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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The House of the Dead or Prison Life in
+Siberia, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The House of the Dead or Prison Life in Siberia
+       with and introduction by Julius Bramont
+
+Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
+
+Release Date: September 25, 2011 [EBook #37536]
+Last Updated: June 19, 2023
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian
+Libraries)
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD ***
+
+
+
+
+EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY
+EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS
+
+FICTION
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD
+
+WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY JULIUS BRAMONT
+
+
+THE PUBLISHERS OF _EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY_ WILL BE PLEASED TO SEND FREELY
+TO ALL APPLICANTS A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED AND PROJECTED VOLUMES TO BE
+COMPRISED UNDER THE FOLLOWING THIRTEEN HEADINGS:
+
+TRAVEL
+SCIENCE
+FICTION
+THEOLOGY & PHILOSOPHY
+HISTORY
+CLASSICAL
+FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
+ESSAYS
+ORATORY
+POETRY & DRAMA
+BIOGRAPHY
+REFERENCE
+ROMANCE
+
+[Illustration: Decoration]
+
+IN FOUR STYLES OF BINDING: CLOTH, FLAT BACK, COLOURED TOP; LEATHER,
+ROUND CORNERS, GILT TOP; LIBRARY BINDING IN CLOTH, & QUARTER PIGSKIN
+
+LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS, LTD. NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
+
+
+A TALE WHICH HOLDETH CHILDREN FROM PLAY
+& OLD MEN FROM THE CHIMNEY CORNER
+
+SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSE _of the_ DEAD
+_or Prison Life in Siberia_
+
+BY FEDOR DOSTOÏEFFSKY
+
+[Illustration: Decoration]
+
+LONDON: PUBLISHED
+by J.M. DENT & SONS LTD
+AND IN NEW YORK
+BY E. P. DUTTON & CO
+
+
+FIRST ISSUE OF THIS EDITION       1911
+REPRINTED                         1914
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+“The Russian nation is a new and wonderful phenomenon in the history of
+mankind. The character of the people differs to such a degree from that
+of the other Europeans that their neighbours find it impossible to
+diagnose them.” This affirmation by Dostoïeffsky, the prophetic
+journalist, offers a key to the treatment in his novels of the troubles
+and aspirations of his race. He wrote with a sacramental fervour whether
+he was writing as a personal agent or an impersonal, novelist or
+journalist. Hence his rage with the calmer men, more gracious
+interpreters of the modern Sclav, who like Ivan Tourguenieff were able
+to see Russia on a line with the western nations, or to consider her
+maternal throes from the disengaged, safe retreat of an arm-chair exile
+in Paris. Not so was _l’âme Russe_ to be given her new literature in the
+eyes of M. Dostoïeffsky, strained with watching, often red with tears
+and anger.
+
+Those other nations, he said--proudly looking for the symptoms of the
+world-intelligence in his own--those other nations of Europe may
+maintain that they have at heart a common aim and a common ideal. In
+fact they are divided among themselves by a thousand interests,
+territorial or other. Each pulls his own way with ever-growing
+determination. It would seem that every individual nation aspires to the
+discovery of the universal ideal for humanity, and is bent on attaining
+that ideal by force of its own unaided strength. Hence, he argued, each
+European nation is an enemy to its own welfare and that of the world in
+general.
+
+To this very disassociation he attributed, without quite understanding
+the rest of us, our not understanding the Russian people, and our taxing
+them with “a lack of personality.” We failed to perceive their rare
+synthetic power--that faculty of the Russian mind to read the
+aspirations of the whole of human kind. Among his own folk, he avowed,
+we would find none of the imperviousness, the intolerance, of the
+average European. The Russian adapts himself with ease to the play of
+contemporary thought and has no difficulty in assimilating any new idea.
+He sees where it will help his fellow-creatures and where it fails to be
+of value. He divines the process by which ideas, even the most
+divergent, the most hostile to one another, may meet and blend.
+
+Possibly, recognising this, M. Dostoïeffsky was the more concerned not
+to be too far depolarised, or say de-Russified, in his own works of
+fiction. But in truth he had no need to fear any weakening of his
+natural fibre and racial proclivities, or of the authentic utterance
+wrung out of him by the hard and cruel thongs of experience. We see the
+rigorous sincerity of his record again in the sheer autobiography
+contained in the present work, _The House of the Dead_. It was in the
+fatal winter of 1849 when he was with many others, mostly very young men
+like himself, sentenced to death for his liberal political propaganda; a
+sentence which was at the last moment commuted to imprisonment in the
+Siberian prisons. Out of that terror, which turned youth grey, was
+distilled the terrible reality of _The House of the Dead_. If one would
+truly fathom how deep that reality is, and what its phenomenon in
+literature amounts to, one should turn again to that favourite idyllic
+book of youth, by my countrywoman Mme. Cottin, _Elizabeth, or the Exiles
+of Siberia_, and compare, for example, the typical scene of Elizabeth’s
+sleep in the wooden chapel in the snow, where she ought to have been
+frozen to death but fared very comfortably, with the Siberian actuality
+of Dostoïeffsky.
+
+But he was no idyllist, though he could be tender as Mme. Cottin
+herself. What he felt about these things you can tell from his stories.
+If a more explicit statement in the theoretic side be asked of him, take
+this plain avowal from his confession books of 1870-77:--
+
+“There is no denying that the people are morally ill, with a grave,
+although not a mortal, malady, one to which it is difficult to assign a
+name. May we call it ‘An unsatisfied thirst for truth’? The people are
+seeking eagerly and untiringly for truth and for the ways that lead to
+it, but hitherto they have failed in their search. After the liberation
+of the serfs, this great longing for truth appeared among the
+people--for truth perfect and entire, and with it the resurrection of
+civic life. There was a clamouring for a ‘new Gospel’; new ideas and
+feelings became manifest; and a great hope rose up among the people
+believing that these great changes were precursors of a state of things
+which never came to pass.”
+
+There is the accent of his hope and his despair. Let it prove to you the
+conviction with which he wrote these tragic pages, one that is affecting
+at this moment the destiny of Russia and the spirit of us who watch her
+as profoundly moved spectators.
+
+JULIUS BRAMONT.
+
+
+
+
+BIBLIOGRAPHY
+
+(_Dostoïeffsky’s works, so far as they have appeared in English._)
+
+
+     Translations of Dostoïeffsky’s novels have appeared as
+     follows:--Buried Alive; or, Ten Years of Penal Servitude in
+     Siberia, translated by Marie v. Thilo, 1881. In Vizetelly’s One
+     Volume Novels: Crime and Punishment, vol. 13; Injury and Insult,
+     translated by F. Whishaw, vol. 17; The Friend of the Family and the
+     Gambler, etc., vol. 22. In Vizetelly’s Russian Novels: The Idiot,
+     by F. Whishaw, 1887; Uncle’s Dream; and, The Permanent Husband,
+     etc., 1888. Prison Life in Siberia, translated by H. S. Edwards,
+     1888; Poor Folk, translated by L. Milman, 1894.
+
+     See D. S. Merezhkovsky, Tolstoi as Man and Artist, with Essay on
+     Dostoïeffsky, translated from the Russian, 1902; M. Baring,
+     Landmarks in Russian Literature (chapter on Dostoïeffsky), 1910.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                          PART I
+
+CHAP.                                            PAGE
+
+   I. TEN YEARS A CONVICT                            1
+  II. THE DEAD-HOUSE                                 7
+ III. FIRST IMPRESSIONS                             24
+  IV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)               43
+   V. FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)               61
+  VI. THE FIRST MONTH                               80
+ VII. THE FIRST MONTH (_continued_)                 95
+VIII. NEW ACQUAINTANCES--PETROFF                   110
+  IX. MEN OF DETERMINATION--LUKA                   125
+   X. ISAIAH FOMITCH--THE BATH--BAKLOUCHIN         133
+  XI. THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS                       152
+ XII. THE PERFORMANCE                              171
+
+
+                          PART II
+
+   I. THE HOSPITAL                                 194
+  II. THE HOSPITAL (_continued_)                   209
+ III. THE HOSPITAL (_continued_)                   225
+  IV. THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA                       248
+   V. THE SUMMER SEASON                            264
+  VI. THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT     286
+ VII. GRIEVANCES                                   302
+VIII. MY COMPANIONS                                325
+  IX. THE ESCAPE                                   344
+   X. FREEDOM!                                     363
+
+
+
+
+PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA.
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+TEN YEARS A CONVICT
+
+
+In the midst of the steppes, of the mountains, of the impenetrable
+forests of the desert regions of Siberia, one meets from time to time
+with little towns of a thousand or two inhabitants, built entirely of
+wood, very ugly, with two churches--one in the centre of the town, the
+other in the cemetery--in a word, towns which bear much more resemblance
+to a good-sized village in the suburbs of Moscow than to a town properly
+so called. In most cases they are abundantly provided with
+police-master, assessors, and other inferior officials. If it is cold in
+Siberia, the great advantages of the Government service compensate for
+it. The inhabitants are simple people, without liberal ideas. Their
+manners are antique, solid, and unchanged by time. The officials who
+form, and with reason, the nobility in Siberia, either belong to the
+country, deeply-rooted Siberians, or they have arrived there from
+Russia. The latter come straight from the capitals, tempted by the high
+pay, the extra allowance for travelling expenses, and by hopes not less
+seductive for the future. Those who know how to resolve the problem of
+life remain almost always in Siberia; the abundant and richly-flavoured
+fruit which they gather there recompenses them amply for what they lose.
+
+As for the others, light-minded persons who are unable to deal with the
+problem, they are soon bored in Siberia, and ask themselves with regret
+why they committed the folly of coming. They impatiently kill the three
+years which they are obliged by rule to remain, and as soon as their
+time is up, they beg to be sent back, and return to their original
+quarters, running down Siberia, and ridiculing it. They are wrong, for
+it is a happy country, not only as regards the Government service, but
+also from many other points of view.
+
+The climate is excellent, the merchants are rich and hospitable, the
+Europeans in easy circumstances are numerous; as for the young girls,
+they are like roses and their morality is irreproachable. Game is to be
+found in the streets, and throws itself upon the sportsman’s gun. People
+drink champagne in prodigious quantities. The caviare is astonishingly
+good and most abundant. In a word, it is a blessed land, out of which it
+is only necessary to be able to make profit; and much profit is really
+made.
+
+It is in one of these little towns--gay and perfectly satisfied with
+themselves, the population of which has left upon me the most agreeable
+impression--that I met an exile, Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff,
+formerly a landed proprietor in Russia. He had been condemned to hard
+labour of the second class for assassinating his wife. After undergoing
+his punishment--ten years of hard labour--he lived quietly and unnoticed
+as a colonist in the little town of K----. To tell the truth, he was
+inscribed in one of the surrounding districts; but he resided at K----,
+where he managed to get a living by giving lessons to children. In the
+towns of Siberia one often meets with exiles who are occupied with
+instruction. They are not looked down upon, for they teach the French
+language, so necessary in life, and of which without them one would not,
+in the distant parts of Siberia, have the least idea.
+
+I saw Alexander Petrovitch the first time at the house of an official,
+Ivan Ivanitch Gvosdikof, a venerable old man, very hospitable, and the
+father of five daughters, of whom the greatest hopes were entertained.
+Four times a week Alexander Petrovitch gave them lessons, at the rate of
+thirty kopecks silver a lesson. His external appearance interested me.
+He was excessively pale and thin, still young--about thirty-five years
+of age--short and weak, always very neatly dressed in the European
+style. When you spoke to him he looked at you in a very attentive
+manner, listening to your words with strict politeness, and with a
+reflective air, as though you had placed before him a problem or wished
+to extract from him a secret. He replied clearly and shortly; but in
+doing so, weighed each word, so that one felt ill at ease without
+knowing why, and was glad when the conversation came to an end. I put
+some questions to Ivan Gvosdikof in regard to him. He told me that
+Goriantchikoff was of irreproachable morals, otherwise Gvosdikof would
+not have entrusted him with the education of his children; but that he
+was a terrible misanthrope, who kept apart from all society; that he was
+very learned, a great reader, and that he spoke but little, and never
+entered freely into a conversation. Certain persons told him that he was
+mad; but that was not looked upon as a very serious defect. Accordingly,
+the most important persons in the town were ready to treat Alexander
+Petrovitch with respect, for he could be useful to them in writing
+petitions. It was believed that he was well connected in Russia.
+Perhaps, among his relations, there were some who were highly placed;
+but it was known that since his exile he had broken off all relations
+with them. In a word--he injured himself. Every one knew his story, and
+was aware that he had killed his wife, through jealousy, less than a
+year after his marriage; and that he had given himself up to justice;
+which had made his punishment much less severe. Such crimes are always
+looked upon as misfortunes, which must be treated with pity.
+Nevertheless, this original kept himself obstinately apart, and never
+showed himself except to give lessons. In the first instance I paid no
+attention to him; then, without knowing why, I found myself interested
+by him. He was rather enigmatic; to talk with him was quite impossible.
+Certainly he replied to all my questions; he seemed to make it a duty to
+do so; but when once he had answered, I was afraid to interrogate him
+any longer.
+
+After such conversations one could observe on his countenance signs of
+suffering and exhaustion. I remember that, one fine summer evening, I
+went out with him from the house of Ivan Gvosdikof. It suddenly occurred
+to me to invite him to come in with me and smoke a cigarette. I can
+scarcely describe the fright which showed itself in his countenance. He
+became confused, muttered incoherent words, and suddenly, after looking
+at me with an angry air, took to flight in an opposite direction. I was
+very much astonished afterwards, when he met me. He seemed to
+experience, on seeing me, a sort of terror; but I did not lose courage.
+There was something in him which attracted me.
+
+A month afterwards I went to see Petrovitch without any pretext. It is
+evident that, in doing so, I behaved foolishly, and without the least
+delicacy. He lived at one of the extreme points of the town with an old
+woman whose daughter was in a consumption. The latter had a little child
+about ten years old, very pretty and very lively.
+
+When I went in Alexander Petrovitch was seated by her side, and was
+teaching her to read. When he saw me he became confused, as if I had
+detected him in a crime. Losing all self-command, he suddenly stood up
+and looked at me with awe and astonishment. Then we both of us sat down.
+He followed attentively all my looks, as if I had suspected him of some
+mysterious intention. I understood he was horribly mistrustful. He
+looked at me as a sort of spy, and he seemed to be on the point of
+saying, “Are you not soon going away?”
+
+I spoke to him of our little town, of the news of the day, but he was
+silent, or smiled with an air of displeasure. I could see that he was
+absolutely ignorant of all that was taking place in the town, and that
+he was in no way curious to know. I spoke to him afterwards of the
+country generally, and of its men. He listened to me still in silence,
+fixing his eyes upon me in such a strange way that I became ashamed of
+what I was doing. I was very nearly offending him by offering him some
+books and newspapers which I had just received by post. He cast a greedy
+look upon them; he then seemed to alter his mind, and declined my offer,
+giving his want of leisure as a pretext.
+
+At last I wished him good-bye, and I felt a weight fall from my
+shoulders as I left the house. I regretted to have harassed a man whose
+tastes kept him apart from the rest of the world. But the fault had been
+committed. I had remarked that he possessed very few books. It was not
+true, then, that he read so much. Nevertheless, on two occasions when I
+drove past, I saw a light in his lodging. What could make him sit up so
+late? Was he writing, and if that were so, what was he writing?
+
+I was absent from our town for about three months. When I returned home
+in the winter, I learned that Petrovitch was dead, and that he had not
+even sent for a doctor. He was even now already forgotten, and his
+lodging was unoccupied. I at once made the acquaintance of his landlady,
+in the hope of learning from her what her lodger had been writing. For
+twenty kopecks she brought me a basket full of papers left by the
+defunct, and confessed to me that she had already employed four sheets
+in lighting her fire. She was a morose and taciturn old woman. I could
+not get from her anything that was interesting. She could tell me
+nothing about her lodger. She gave me to understand all the same that he
+scarcely ever worked, and that he remained for months together without
+opening a book or touching a pen. On the other hand, he walked all night
+up and down his room, given up to his reflections. Sometimes, indeed, he
+spoke aloud. He was very fond of her little grandchild, Katia, above all
+when he knew her name; on her name’s-day--the day of St. Catherine--he
+always had a requiem said in the church for some one’s soul. He detested
+receiving visits, and never went out except to give lessons. Even his
+landlady he looked upon with an unfriendly eye when, once a week, she
+came into his room to put it in order.
+
+During the three years he had passed with her, he had scarcely ever
+spoken to her. I asked Katia if she remembered him. She looked at me in
+silence, and turned weeping to the wall. This man, then, was loved by
+some one! I took away the papers, and passed the day in examining them.
+They were for the most part of no importance, merely children’s
+exercises. At last I came to a rather thick packet, the sheets of which
+were covered with delicate handwriting, which abruptly ceased. It had
+perhaps been forgotten by the writer. It was the narrative--incoherent
+and fragmentary--of the ten years Alexander Petrovitch had passed in
+hard labour. This narrative was interrupted, here and there, either by
+anecdotes, or by strange, terrible recollections thrown in convulsively
+as if torn from the writer. I read some of these fragments again and
+again, and I began to doubt whether they had not been written in moments
+of madness; but these memories of the convict prison--“Recollections of
+the Dead-House,” as he himself called them somewhere in his
+manuscript--seemed to me not without interest. They revealed quite a new
+world unknown till then; and in the strangeness of his facts, together
+with his singular remarks on this fallen people, there was enough to
+tempt me to go on. I may perhaps be wrong, but I will publish some
+chapters from this narrative, and the public shall judge for itself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE DEAD-HOUSE
+
+
+Our prison was at the end of the citadel behind the ramparts. Looking
+through the crevices between the palisade in the hope of seeing
+something, one sees nothing but a little corner of the sky, and a high
+earthwork, covered with the long grass of the steppe. Night and day
+sentries walk to and fro upon it. Then one perceives from the first,
+that whole years will pass during which one will see by the same
+crevices between the palisades, upon the same earthwork, always the same
+sentinels and the same little corner of the sky, not just above the
+prison, but far and far away. Represent to yourself a court-yard, two
+hundred feet long, and one hundred and fifty feet broad, enclosed by an
+irregular hexagonal palisade, formed of stakes thrust deep into the
+earth. So much for the external surroundings of the prison. On one side
+of the palisade is a great gate, solid, and always shut; watched
+perpetually by the sentinels, and never opened, except when the convicts
+go out to work. Beyond this, there are light and liberty, the life of
+free people! Beyond the palisade, one thought of the marvellous world,
+fantastic as a fairy tale. It was not the same on our side. Here, there
+was no resemblance to anything. Habits, customs, laws, were all
+precisely fixed. It was the house of living death. It is this corner
+that I undertake to describe.
+
+On penetrating into the enclosure one sees a few buildings. On each
+side of a vast court are stretched forth two wooden constructions, made
+of trunks of trees, and only one storey high. These are convicts’
+barracks. Here the prisoners are confined, divided into several classes.
+At the end of the enclosure may be seen a house, which serves as a
+kitchen, divided into two compartments. Behind it is another building,
+which serves at once as cellar, loft, and barn. The centre of the
+enclosure, completely barren, is a large open space. Here the prisoners
+are drawn up in ranks, three times a day. They are identified, and must
+answer to their names, morning, noon, and evening, besides several times
+in the course of the day if the soldiers on guard are suspicious and
+clever at counting. All around, between the palisades and the buildings
+there remains a sufficiently large space, where some of the prisoners
+who are misanthropes, or of a sombre turn of mind, like to walk about
+when they are not at work. There they go turning over their favourite
+thoughts, shielded from all observation.
+
+When I met them during those walks of theirs, I took pleasure in
+observing their sad, deeply-marked countenances, and in guessing their
+thoughts. The favourite occupation of one of the convicts, during the
+moments of liberty left to him from his hard labour, was to count the
+palisades. There were fifteen hundred of them. He had counted them all,
+and knew them nearly by heart. Every one of them represented to him a
+day of confinement; but, counting them daily in this manner, he knew
+exactly the number of days that he had still to pass in the prison. He
+was sincerely happy when he had finished one side of the hexagon; yet he
+had to wait for his liberation many long years. But one learns patience
+in a prison.
+
+One day I saw a prisoner, who had undergone his punishment, take leave
+of his comrades. He had had twenty years’ hard labour. More than one
+convict remembered seeing him arrive, quite young, careless, thinking
+neither of his crime nor of his punishment. He was now an old man with
+gray hairs, with a sad and morose countenance. He walked in silence
+through our six barracks. When he entered each of them he prayed before
+the holy image, made a deep bow to his former companions, and begged
+them not to keep a bad recollection of him.
+
+I also remember one evening, a prisoner, who had been formerly a
+well-to-do Siberian peasant, so called. Six years before he had had news
+of his wife’s remarrying, which had caused him great pain. That very
+evening she had come to the prison, and had asked for him in order to
+make him a present! They talked together for two minutes, wept together,
+and then separated never to meet again. I saw the expression of this
+prisoner’s countenance when he re-entered the barracks. There, indeed,
+one learns to support everything.
+
+When darkness set in we had to re-enter the barrack, where we were shut
+up for all the night. It was always painful for me to leave the
+court-yard for the barrack. Think of a long, low, stifling room,
+scarcely lighted by tallow candles, and full of heavy and disgusting
+odours. I cannot now understand how I lived there for ten entire years.
+My camp bedstead was made of three boards. This was the only place in
+the room that belonged to me. In one single room we herded together,
+more than thirty men. It was, above all, no wonder that we were shut up
+early. Four hours at least passed before every one was asleep, and,
+until then, there was a tumult and uproar of laughter, oaths, rattling
+of chains, a poisonous vapour of thick smoke; a confusion of shaved
+heads, stigmatised foreheads, and ragged clothes disgustingly filthy.
+
+Yes, man is a pliable animal--he must be so defined--a being who gets
+accustomed to everything! That would be, perhaps, the best definition
+that could be given of him. There were altogether two hundred and fifty
+of us in the same prison. This number was almost invariably the same.
+Whenever some of them had undergone their punishment, other criminals
+arrived, and a few of them died. Among them there were all sorts of
+people. I believe that each region of Russia had furnished its
+representatives. There were foreigners there, and even mountaineers from
+the Caucasus.
+
+All these people were divided into different classes, according to the
+importance of the crime; and consequently the duration of the punishment
+for the crime, whatever it might be, was there represented. The
+population of the prison was composed for the most part of men condemned
+to hard labour of the civil class--“strongly condemned,” as the
+prisoners used to say. They were criminals deprived of all civil rights,
+men rejected by society, vomited forth by it, and whose faces were
+marked by the iron to testify eternally to their disgrace. They were
+incarcerated for different periods of time, varying from eight to ten
+years. At the expiration of their punishment they were sent to the
+Siberian districts in the character of colonists.
+
+As to the criminals of the military section, they were not deprived of
+their civil rights--as is generally the case in Russian disciplinary
+companies--but were punished for a relatively short period. As soon as
+they had undergone their punishment they had to return to the place
+whence they had come, and became soldiers in the battalions of the
+Siberian Line.[1]
+
+Many of them came back to us afterwards, for serious crimes, this time
+not for a small number of years, but for twenty at least. They then
+formed part of the section called “for perpetuity.” Nevertheless, the
+perpetuals were not deprived of their right. There was another section
+sufficiently numerous, composed of the worst malefactors, nearly all
+veterans in crime, and which was called the special section. There were
+sent convicts from all the Russias. They looked upon one another with
+reason as imprisoned for ever, for the term of their confinement had not
+been indicated. The law required them to receive double and treble
+tasks. They remained in prison until work of the most painful character
+had to be undertaken in Siberia.
+
+“You are only here for a fixed time,” they said to the other convicts;
+“we, on the contrary, are here for all our life.”
+
+I have heard that this section has since been abolished. At the same
+time, civil convicts are kept apart, in order that the military convicts
+may be organised by themselves into a homogeneous “disciplinary
+company.” The administration, too, has naturally been changed;
+consequently what I describe are the customs and practices of another
+time, and of things which have since been abolished. Yes, it was a long
+time ago; it seems to me that it is all a dream. I remember entering the
+convict prison one December evening, as night was falling. The convicts
+were returning from work. The roll-call was about to be made. An under
+officer with large moustaches opened to me the gate of this strange
+house, where I was to remain so many years, to endure so many emotions,
+and of which I could not form even an approximate idea, if I had not
+gone through them. Thus, for example, could I ever have imagined the
+poignant and terrible suffering of never being alone even for one minute
+during ten years? Working under escort in the barracks together with two
+hundred “companions;” never alone, never!
+
+However, I was obliged to get accustomed to it. Among them there were
+murderers by imprudence, and murderers by profession, simple thieves,
+masters in the art of finding money in the pockets of the passers-by, or
+of wiping off no matter what from the table. It would have been
+difficult, however, to say why and how certain prisoners found
+themselves among the convicts. Each of them had his history, confused
+and heavy, painful as the morning after a debauch.
+
+The convicts, as a rule, spoke very little of their past life, which
+they did not like to think of. They endeavoured, even, to dismiss it
+from their memory.
+
+Amongst my companions of the chain I have known murderers who were so
+gay and so free from care, that one might have made a bet that their
+conscience never made them the least reproach. But there were also men
+of sombre countenance who remained almost always silent. It was very
+rarely any one told his history. This sort of thing was not the fashion.
+Let us say at once that it was not received. Sometimes, however, from
+time to time, for the sake of change, a prisoner used to tell his life
+to another prisoner, who would listen coldly to the narrative. No one,
+to tell the truth, could have said anything to astonish his neighbour.
+“We are not ignoramuses,” they would sometimes say with singular pride.
+
+I remember one day a ruffian who had got drunk--it was sometimes
+possible for the convicts to get drink--relating how he had killed and
+cut up a child of five. He had first tempted the child with a plaything,
+and then taking it to a loft, had cut it up to pieces. The entire
+barrack, which, generally speaking, laughed at his jokes, uttered one
+unanimous cry. The ruffian was obliged to be silent. But if the convicts
+had interrupted him, it was not by any means because his recital had
+caused their indignation, but because it was not allowed to speak of
+such things.
+
+I must here observe that the convicts possessed a certain degree of
+instruction. Half of them, if not more, knew how to read and write.
+Where in Russia, in no matter what population, could two hundred and
+fifty men be found able to read and write? Later on I have heard people
+say, and conclude on the strength of these abuses, that education
+demoralises the people. This is a mistake. Education has nothing
+whatever to do with moral deterioration. It must be admitted,
+nevertheless, that it develops a resolute spirit among the people. But
+this is far from being a defect.
+
+Each section had a different costume. The uniform of one was a cloth
+vest, half brown and half gray, and trousers with one leg brown, the
+other gray. One day while we were at work, a little girl who sold scones
+of white bread came towards the convicts. She looked at them for a time
+and then burst into a laugh. “Oh, how ugly they are!” she cried; “they
+have not even enough gray cloth or brown cloth to make their clothes.”
+Every convict wore a vest made of gray cloth, except the sleeves, which
+were brown. Their heads, too, were shaved in different styles. The
+crown was bared sometimes longitudinally, sometimes latitudinally, from
+the nape of the neck to the forehead, or from one ear to another.
+
+This strange family had a general likeness so pronounced that it could
+be recognised at a glance.
+
+Even the most striking personalities, those who dominated involuntarily
+the other convicts, could not help taking the general tone of the house.
+
+Of the convicts--with the exception of a few who enjoyed childish
+gaiety, and who by that alone drew upon themselves general contempt--all
+the convicts were morose, envious, frightfully vain, presumptuous,
+susceptible, and excessively ceremonious. To be astonished at nothing
+was in their eyes the first and indispensable quality. Accordingly,
+their first aim was to bear themselves with dignity. But often the most
+composed demeanour gave way with the rapidity of lightning. With the
+basest humility some, however, possessed genuine strength; these were
+naturally all sincere. But strangely enough, they were for the most part
+excessively and morbidly vain. Vanity was always their salient quality.
+
+The majority of the prisoners were depraved and perverted, so that
+calumnies and scandal rained amongst them like hail. Our life was a
+constant hell, a perpetual damnation; but no one would have dared to
+raise a voice against the internal regulations of the prison, or against
+established usages. Accordingly, willingly or unwillingly, they had to
+be submitted to. Certain indomitable characters yielded with difficulty,
+but they yielded all the same. Prisoners who when at liberty had gone
+beyond all measure, who, urged by their over-excited vanity, had
+committed frightful crimes unconsciously, as if in a delirium, and had
+been the terror of entire towns, were put down in a very short time by
+the system of our prison. The “new man,” when he began to reconnoitre,
+soon found that he could astonish no one, and insensibly he submitted,
+took the general tone, and assumed a sort of personal dignity which
+almost every convict maintained, just as if the denomination of convict
+had been a title of honour. Not the least sign of shame or of
+repentance, but a kind of external submission which seemed to have been
+reasoned out as the line of conduct to be pursued. “We are lost men,”
+they said to themselves. “We were unable to live in liberty; we must now
+go to Green Street.”[2]
+
+“You would not obey your father and mother; you will now obey thongs of
+leather.” “The man who would not sow must now break stones.”
+
+These things were said, and repeated in the way of morality, as
+sentences and proverbs, but without any one taking them seriously. They
+were but words in the air. There was not one man among them who admitted
+his iniquity. Let a stranger not a convict endeavour to reproach him
+with his crime, and the insults directed against him would be endless.
+And how refined are convicts in the matter of insults! They insult
+delicately, like artists; insult with the most delicate science. They
+endeavour not so much to offend by the expression as by the meaning, the
+spirit of an envenomed phrase. Their incessant quarrels developed
+greatly this special art.
+
+As they only worked under the threat of an immense stick, they were idle
+and depraved. Those who were not already corrupt when they arrived at
+the convict establishment, became perverted very soon. Brought together
+in spite of themselves, they were perfect strangers to one another. “The
+devil has worn out three pairs of sandals before he got us together,”
+they would say. Intrigues, calumnies, scandal of all kinds, envy, and
+hatred reigned above everything else. In this life of sloth, no ordinary
+spiteful tongue could make head against these murderers, with insults
+constantly in their mouths.
+
+As I said before, there were found among them men of open character,
+resolute, intrepid, accustomed to self-command. These were held
+involuntarily in esteem. Although they were very jealous of their
+reputation, they endeavoured to annoy no one, and never insulted one
+another without a motive. Their conduct was on all points full of
+dignity. They were rational, and almost always obedient, not by
+principle, or from any respect for duty, but as if in virtue of a mutual
+convention between themselves and the administration--a convention of
+which the advantages were plain enough.
+
+The officials, moreover, behaved prudently towards them. I remember that
+one prisoner of the resolute and intrepid class, known to possess the
+instincts of a wild beast, was summoned one day to be whipped. It was
+during the summer, no work was being done. The Adjutant, the direct and
+immediate chief of the convict prison, was in the orderly-room, by the
+side of the principal entrance, ready to assist at the punishment. This
+Major was a fatal being for the prisoners, whom he had brought to such a
+state that they trembled before him. Severe to the point of insanity,
+“he threw himself upon them,” to use their expression. But it was above
+all that his look, as penetrating as that of a lynx, was feared. It was
+impossible to conceal anything from him. He saw, so to say, without
+looking. On entering the prison, he knew at once what was being done.
+Accordingly, the convicts, one and all, called him the man with the
+eight eyes. His system was bad, for it had the effect of irritating men
+who were already irascible. But for the Commandant, a well-bred and
+reasonable man, who moderated the savage onslaughts of the Major, the
+latter would have caused sad misfortunes by his bad administration. I do
+not understand how he managed to retire from the service safe and sound.
+It is true that he left after being called before a court-martial.
+
+The prisoner turned pale when he was called; generally speaking, he lay
+down courageously, and without uttering a word, to receive the terrible
+rods, after which he got up and shook himself. He bore the misfortune
+calmly, philosophically, it is true, though he was never punished
+carelessly, nor without all sorts of precautions. But this time he
+considered himself innocent. He turned pale, and as he walked quietly
+towards the escort of soldiers he managed to conceal in his sleeve a
+shoemaker’s awl. The prisoners were severely forbidden to carry sharp
+instruments about them. Examinations were frequently, minutely, and
+unexpectedly made, and all infractions of the rule were severely
+punished. But as it is difficult to take away from the criminal what he
+is determined to conceal, and as, moreover, sharp instruments are
+necessarily used in the prison, they were never destroyed. If the
+official succeeded in taking them away from the convicts, the latter
+procured new ones very soon.
+
+On the occasion in question, all the convicts had now thrown themselves
+against the palisade, with palpitating hearts, to look through the
+crevices. It was known that this time Petroff would not allow himself to
+be flogged, that the end of the Major had come. But at the critical
+moment the latter got into his carriage, and went away, leaving the
+direction of the punishment to a subaltern. “God has saved him!” said
+the convicts. As for Petroff, he underwent his punishment quietly. Once
+the Major had gone, his anger fell. The prisoner is submissive and
+obedient to a certain point, but there is a limit which must not be
+crossed. Nothing is more curious than these strange outbursts of
+disobedience and rage. Often a man who has supported for many years the
+most cruel punishment, will revolt for a trifle, for nothing at all. He
+might pass for a madman; that, in fact, is what is said of him.
+
+I have already said that during many years I never remarked the least
+sign of repentance, not even the slightest uneasiness with regard to the
+crime committed; and that most of the convicts considered neither honour
+nor conscience, holding that they had a right to act as they thought
+fit. Certainly vanity, evil examples, deceitfulness, and false shame
+were responsible for much. On the other hand, who can claim to have
+sounded the depths of these hearts, given over to perdition, and to have
+found them closed to all light? It would seem all the same that during
+so many years I ought to have been able to notice some indication, even
+the most fugitive, of some regret, some moral suffering. I positively
+saw nothing of the kind. With ready-made opinions one cannot judge of
+crime. Its philosophy is a little more complicated than people think. It
+is acknowledged that neither convict prisons, nor the hulks, nor any
+system of hard labour ever cured a criminal. These forms of chastisement
+only punish him and reassure society against the offences he might
+commit. Confinement, regulation, and excessive work have no effect but
+to develop with these men profound hatred, a thirst for forbidden
+enjoyment, and frightful recalcitrations. On the other hand I am
+convinced that the celebrated cellular system gives results which are
+specious and deceitful. It deprives a criminal of his force, of his
+energy, enervates his soul by weakening and frightening it, and at last
+exhibits a dried up mummy as a model of repentance and amendment.
+
+The criminal who has revolted against society, hates it, and considers
+himself in the right; society was wrong, not he. Has he not, moreover,
+undergone his punishment? Accordingly he is absolved, acquitted in his
+own eyes. In spite of different opinions, every one will acknowledge
+that there are crimes which everywhere, always, under no matter what
+legislation, are beyond discussion crimes, and should be regarded as
+such as long as man is man. It is only at the convict prison that I have
+heard related, with a childish, unrestrained laugh, the strangest, most
+atrocious offences. I shall never forget a certain parricide, formerly a
+nobleman and a public functionary. He had given great grief to his
+father--a true prodigal son. The old man endeavoured in vain to restrain
+him by remonstrance on the fatal slope down which he was sliding. As he
+was loaded with debts, and his father was suspected of having, besides
+an estate, a sum of ready money, he killed him in order to enter more
+quickly into his inheritance. This crime was not discovered until a
+month afterwards. During all this time the murderer, who meanwhile had
+informed the police of his father’s disappearance, continued his
+debauches. At last, during his absence, the police discovered the old
+man’s corpse in a drain. The gray head was severed from the trunk, but
+replaced in its original position. The body was entirely dressed.
+Beneath, as if by derision, the assassin had placed a cushion.
+
+The young man confessed nothing. He was degraded, deprived of his
+nobiliary privileges, and condemned to twenty years’ hard labour. As
+long as I knew him I always found him to be careless of his position. He
+was the most light-minded, inconsiderate man that I ever met, although
+he was far from being a fool. I never observed in him any great tendency
+to cruelty. The other convicts despised him, not on account of his
+crime, of which there was never any question, but because he was without
+dignity. He sometimes spoke of his father. One day for instance,
+boasting of the hereditary good health of his family, he said: “My
+father, for example, until his death was never ill.”
+
+Animal insensibility carried to such a point is most remarkable--it is,
+indeed, phenomenal. There must have been in this case an organic defect
+in the man, some physical and moral monstrosity unknown hitherto to
+science, and not simply crime. I naturally did not believe in so
+atrocious a crime; but people of the same town as himself, who knew all
+the details of his history, related it to me. The facts were so clear
+that it would have been madness not to accept them. The prisoners once
+heard him cry out during his sleep: “Hold him! hold him! Cut his head
+off, his head, his head!”
+
+Nearly all the convicts dreamed aloud, or were delirious in their sleep.
+Insults, words of slang, knives, hatchets, seemed constantly present in
+their dreams. “We are crushed!” they would say; “we are without
+entrails; that is why we shriek in the night.”
+
+Hard labour in our fortress was not an occupation, but an obligation.
+The prisoners accomplished their task, they worked the number of hours
+fixed by the law, and then returned to the prison. They hated their
+liberty. If the convict did not do some work on his own account
+voluntarily, it would be impossible for him to support his confinement.
+How could these persons, all strongly constituted, who had lived
+sumptuously, and desired so to live again, who had been brought
+together against their will, after society had cast them up--how could
+they live in a normal and natural manner? Man cannot exist without work,
+without legal, natural property. Depart from these conditions, and he
+becomes perverted and changed into a wild beast. Accordingly, every
+convict, through natural requirements and by the instinct of
+self-preservation, had a trade--an occupation of some kind.
+
+The long days of summer were taken up almost entirely by our hard
+labour. The night was so short that we had only just time to sleep. It
+was not the same in winter. According to the regulations, the prisoners
+had to be shut up in the barracks at nightfall. What was to be done
+during these long, sad evenings but work? Consequently each barrack,
+though locked and bolted, assumed the appearance of a large workshop.
+The work was not, it is true, strictly forbidden, but it was forbidden
+to have tools, without which work is evidently impossible. But we
+laboured in secret, and the administration seemed to shut its eyes. Many
+prisoners arrived without knowing how to make use of their ten fingers;
+but they learnt a trade from some of their companions, and became
+excellent workmen.
+
+We had among us cobblers, bootmakers, tailors, masons, locksmiths, and
+gilders. A Jew named Esau Boumstein was at the same time a jeweller and
+a usurer. Every one worked, and thus gained a few pence--for many orders
+came from the town. Money is a tangible resonant liberty, inestimable
+for a man entirely deprived of true liberty. If he feels some money in
+his pocket, he consoles himself a little, even though he cannot spend
+it--but one can always and everywhere spend money, the more so as
+forbidden fruit is doubly sweet. One can often buy spirits in the
+convict prison. Although pipes are severely forbidden, every one smokes.
+Money and tobacco save the convicts from the scurvy, as work saves them
+from crime--for without work they would mutually have destroyed one
+another like spiders shut up in a close bottle. Work and money were all
+the same forbidden. Often during the night severe examinations were
+made, during which everything that was not legally authorised was
+confiscated. However successfully the little hoards had been concealed,
+they were sometimes discovered. That was one of the reasons why they
+were not kept very long. They were exchanged as soon as possible for
+drink, which explains how it happened that spirits penetrated into the
+convict prison. The delinquent was not only deprived of his hoard, but
+was also cruelly flogged.
+
+A short time after each examination the convicts procured again the
+objects which had been confiscated, and everything went on as before.
+The administration knew it; and although the condition of the convicts
+was a good deal like that of the inhabitants of Vesuvius, they never
+murmured at the punishment inflicted for these peccadilloes. Those who
+had no manual skill did business somehow or other. The modes of buying
+and selling were original enough. Things changed hands which no one
+expected a convict would ever have thought of selling or buying, or even
+of regarding as of any value whatever. The least rag had its value, and
+might be turned to account. In consequence, however, of the poverty of
+the convicts, money acquired in their eyes a superior value to that
+really belonging to it.
+
+Long and painful tasks, sometimes of a very complicated kind, brought
+back a few kopecks. Several of the prisoners lent by the week, and did
+good business that way. The prisoner who was ruined and insolvent
+carried to the usurer the few things belonging to him and pledged them
+for some halfpence, which were lent to him at a fabulous rate of
+interest. If he did not redeem them at the fixed time the usurer sold
+them pitilessly by auction, and without the least delay.
+
+Usury flourished so well in our convict prison that money was lent even
+on things belonging to the Government: linen, boots, etc.--things that
+were wanted at every moment. When the lender accepted such pledges the
+affair took an unexpected turn. The proprietor went, immediately after
+he had received his money, and told the under officer--chief
+superintendent of the convict prison--that objects belonging to the
+State were being concealed, on which everything was taken away from the
+usurer without even the formality of a report to the superior
+administration. But never was there any quarrel--and that is very
+curious indeed--between the usurer and the owner. The first gave up in
+silence, with a morose air, the things demanded from him, as if he had
+been waiting for the request. Sometimes, perhaps, he confessed to
+himself that, in the place of the borrower, he would not have acted
+differently. Accordingly, if he was insulted after this restitution, it
+was less from hatred than simply as a matter of conscience.
+
+The convicts robbed one another without shame. Each prisoner had his
+little box fitted with a padlock, in which he kept the things entrusted
+to him by the administration. Although these boxes were authorised, that
+did not prevent them from being broken into. The reader can easily
+imagine what clever thieves were found among us. A prisoner who was
+sincerely devoted to me--I say it without boasting--stole my Bible from
+me, the only book allowed in the convict prison. He told me of it the
+same day, not from repentance, but because he pitied me when he saw me
+looking for it everywhere. We had among our companions of the chain
+several convicts called “innkeepers,” who sold spirits, and became
+comparatively rich by doing so. I shall speak of this further on, for
+the liquor traffic deserves special study.
+
+A great number of prisoners had been deported for smuggling, which
+explains how it was that drink was brought secretly into the convict
+prison, under so severe a surveillance as ours was. In passing it may be
+remarked that smuggling is an offence apart. Would it be believed that
+money, the solid profit from the affair, possesses often only secondary
+importance for the smuggler? It is all the same an authentic fact. He
+works by vocation. In his style he is a poet. He risks all he possesses,
+exposes himself to terrible dangers, intrigues, invents, gets out of a
+scrape, and brings everything to a happy end by a sort of inspiration.
+This passion is as violent as that of play.
+
+I knew a prisoner of colossal stature who was the mildest, the most
+peaceable, and most manageable man it was possible to see. We often
+asked one another how he had been deported. He had such a calm, sociable
+character, that during the whole time that he passed at the convict
+prison, he never quarrelled with any one. Born in Western Russia, where
+he lived on the frontier, he had been sent to hard labour for smuggling.
+Naturally, then, he could not resist his desire to smuggle spirits into
+the prison. How many times was he not punished for it, and heaven knows
+how much he feared the rods. This dangerous trade brought him in but
+slender profits. It was the speculator who got rich at his expense. Each
+time he was punished he wept like an old woman, and swore by all that
+was holy that he would never be caught at such things again. He kept his
+vow for an entire month, but he ended by yielding once more to his
+passion. Thanks to these amateurs of smuggling, spirits were always to
+be had in the convict prison.
+
+Another source of income which, without enriching the prisoners, was
+constantly and beneficently turned to account, was alms-giving. The
+upper classes of our Russian society do not know to what an extent
+merchants, shopkeepers, and our people generally, commiserate the
+“unfortunate!”[3] Alms were always forthcoming, and consisted generally
+of little white loaves, sometimes of money, but very rarely. Without
+alms, the existence of the convicts, and above all that of the accused,
+who are badly fed, would be too painful. These alms are shared equally
+between all the prisoners. If the gifts are not sufficient, the little
+loaves are divided into halves, and sometimes into six pieces, so that
+each convict may have his share. I remember the first alms, a small
+piece of money, that I received. A short time after my arrival, one
+morning, as I was coming back from work with a soldier escort, I met a
+mother and her daughter, a child of ten, as beautiful as an angel. I had
+already seen them once before.
+
+The mother was the widow of a poor soldier, who, while still young, had
+been sentenced by a court-martial, and had died in the infirmary of the
+convict prison while I was there. They wept hot tears when they came to
+bid him good-bye. On seeing me the little girl blushed, and murmured a
+few words into her mother’s ear, who stopped, and took from a basket a
+kopeck which she gave to the little girl. The little girl ran after me.
+
+“Here, poor man,” she said, “take this in the name of Christ.” I took
+the money which she slipped into my hand. The little girl returned
+joyfully to her mother. I preserved that kopeck a considerable time.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Goriantchikoff became himself a soldier in Siberia, when he had
+finished his term of imprisonment.
+
+[2] An allusion to the two rows of soldiers, armed with green rods,
+between which convicts condemned to corporal punishment had and still
+have to pass. But this punishment now exists only for convicts deprived
+of all their civil rights. This subject will be returned to further on.
+
+[3] Men condemned to hard labour, and exiles generally, are so called by
+the Russian peasantry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+During the first weeks, and naturally the early part of my imprisonment,
+made a deep impression on my imagination. The following years on the
+other hand are all mixed up together, and leave but a confused
+recollection. Certain epochs of this life are even effaced from my
+memory. I have kept one general impression of it, always the same;
+painful, monotonous, stifling. What I saw in experience during the first
+days of my imprisonment seems to me as if it had all taken place
+yesterday. Such was sure to be the case. I remember perfectly that in
+the first place this life astonished me by the very fact that it offered
+nothing particular, nothing extraordinary, or to express myself better,
+nothing unexpected. It was not until later on, when I had lived some
+time in the convict prison, that I understood all that was exceptional
+and unforeseen in such a life. I was astonished at the discovery. I will
+avow that this astonishment remained with me throughout my term of
+punishment. I could not decidedly reconcile myself to this existence.
+
+First of all, I experienced an invincible repugnance on arriving; but
+oddly enough the life seemed to me less painful than I had imagined on
+the journey.
+
+Indeed, prisoners, though embarrassed by their irons went to and fro in
+the prison freely enough. They insulted one another, sang, worked,
+smoked pipes, and drank spirits. There were not many drinkers all the
+same. There were also regular card parties during the night. The labour
+did not seem to me very trying; I fancied that it could not be the real
+“hard labour.” I did not understand till long afterwards why this labour
+was really hard and excessive. It was less by reason of its difficulty,
+than because it was forced, imposed, obligatory; and it was only done
+through fear of the stick. The peasant works certainly harder than the
+convict, for, during the summer, he works night and day. But it is in
+his own interest that he fatigues himself. His aim is reasonable, so
+that he suffers less than the convict who performs hard labour from
+which he derives no profit. It once came into my head that if it were
+desired to reduce a man to nothing--to punish him atrociously, to crush
+him in such a manner that the most hardened murderer would tremble
+before such a punishment, and take fright beforehand--it would be
+necessary to give to his work a character of complete uselessness, even
+to absurdity.
+
+Hard labour, as it is now carried on, presents no interest to the
+convict; but it has its utility. The convict makes bricks, digs the
+earth, builds; and all his occupations have a meaning and an end.
+Sometimes, even the prisoner takes an interest in what he is doing. He
+then wishes to work more skilfully, more advantageously. But let him be
+constrained to pour water from one vessel into another, or to transport
+a quantity of earth from one place to another, in order to perform the
+contrary operation immediately afterwards, then I am persuaded that at
+the end of a few days the prisoner would strangle himself or commit a
+thousand crimes, punishable with death, rather than live in such an
+abject condition and endure such torments. It is evident that such
+punishment would be rather a torture, an atrocious vengeance, than a
+correction. It would be absurd, for it would have no natural end.
+
+I did not, however, arrive until the winter--in the month of
+December--and the labour was then unimportant in our fortress. I had no
+idea of the summer labour--five times as fatiguing. The prisoners,
+during the winter season, broke up on the Irtitch some old boats
+belonging to the Government, found occupation in the workshops, took
+away the snow blown by hurricanes against the buildings, or burned and
+pounded alabaster. As the day was very short, the work ceased at an
+early hour, and every one returned to the convict prison, where there
+was scarcely anything to do, except the supplementary work which the
+convicts did for themselves.
+
+Scarcely a third of the convicts worked seriously, the others idled
+their time and wandered about without aim in the barracks, scheming and
+insulting one another. Those who had a little money got drunk on
+spirits, or lost what they had saved at gambling. And all this from
+idleness, weariness, and want of something to do.
+
+I learned, moreover, to know one suffering which is perhaps the
+sharpest, the most painful that can be experienced in a house of
+detention apart from laws and liberty. I mean, “forced cohabitation.”
+Cohabitation is more or less forced everywhere and always; but nowhere
+is it so horrible as in a prison. There are men there with whom no one
+would consent to live. I am certain that every convict, unconsciously
+perhaps, has suffered from this.
+
+The food of the prisoners seemed to me passable; some declared even that
+it was incomparably better than in any Russian prison. I cannot certify
+to this, for I was never in prison anywhere else. Many of us, besides,
+were allowed to procure whatever nourishment we wanted. As fresh meat
+cost only three kopecks a pound, those who always had money allowed
+themselves the luxury of eating it. The majority of the prisoners were
+contented with the regular ration.
+
+When they praised the diet of the convict prison, they were thinking
+only of the bread, which was distributed at the rate of so much per
+room, and not individually or by weight. This last condition would have
+frightened the convicts, for a third of them at least would have
+constantly suffered from hunger; while, with the system in vogue, every
+one was satisfied. Our bread was particularly nice, and was even
+renowned in the town. Its good quality was attributed to the excellent
+construction of the prison ovens. As for our cabbage-soup, it was cooked
+and thickened with flour. It had not an appetising appearance. On
+working days it was clear and thin; but what particularly disgusted me
+was the way it was served. The prisoners, however, paid no attention to
+that.
+
+During the three days that followed my arrival, I did not go to work.
+Some respite was always given to prisoners just arrived, in order to
+allow them to recover from their fatigue. The second day I had to go out
+of the convict prison in order to be ironed. My chain was not of the
+regulation pattern; it was composed of rings, which gave forth a clear
+sound, so I heard other convicts say. I had to wear them externally over
+my clothes, whereas my companions had chains formed, not of rings, but
+of four links, as thick as the finger, and fastened together by three
+links which were worn beneath the trousers. To the central ring was
+fastened a strip of leather, tied in its turn to a girdle fastened over
+the shirt.
+
+I can see again the first morning that I passed in the convict prison.
+The drum sounded in the orderly room, near the principal entrance. Ten
+minutes afterwards the under officer opened the barracks. The convicts
+woke up one after another and rose trembling with cold from their plank
+bedsteads, by the dull light of a tallow candle. Nearly all of them were
+morose; they yawned and stretched themselves. Their foreheads, marked by
+the iron, were contracted. Some made the sign of the Cross; others began
+to talk nonsense. The cold air from outside rushed in as soon as the
+door was opened. Then the prisoners hurried round the pails full of
+water, one after another, and took water in their mouths, and, letting
+it out into their hands, washed their faces. Those pails had been
+brought in the night before by a prisoner specially appointed, according
+to the rules, to clean the barracks.
+
+The convicts chose him themselves. He did not work with the others, for
+it was his business to examine the camp bedsteads and the floors, to
+fetch and carry water. This water served in the morning for the
+prisoners’ ablutions, and the rest during the day for ordinary drinking.
+That very morning there were disputes on the subject of one of the
+pitchers.
+
+“What are you doing there with your marked forehead?” grumbled one of
+the prisoners, tall, dry, and sallow.
+
+He attracted attention by the strange protuberances with which his skull
+was covered. He pushed against another convict round and small, with a
+lively rubicund countenance.
+
+“Just wait.”
+
+“What are you crying out about? You know that a fine must be paid when
+the others are kept waiting. Off with you. What a monument, my
+brethren!”
+
+“A little calf,” he went on muttering. “See, the white bread of the
+prison has fattened him.”
+
+“For what do you take yourself? A fine bird, indeed.”
+
+“You are about right.”
+
+“What bird do you mean?”
+
+“You don’t require to be told.”
+
+“How so?”
+
+“Find out.”
+
+They devoured one another with their eyes. The little man, waiting for a
+reply, with clenched fists, was apparently ready to fight. I thought
+that an encounter would take place. It was all quite new to me;
+accordingly I watched the scene with curiosity. Later on I learnt that
+such quarrels were very innocent, that they served for entertainment.
+Like an amusing comedy, it scarcely ever ended in blows. This
+characteristic plainly informed me of the manners of the prisoners.
+
+The tall prisoner remained calm and majestic. He felt that some answer
+was expected from him, if he was not to be dishonoured, covered with
+ridicule. It was necessary for him to show that he was a wonderful bird,
+a personage. Accordingly, he cast a side look on his adversary,
+endeavouring, with inexpressible contempt, to irritate him by looking at
+him over his shoulders, up and down, as he would have done with an
+insect. At last the little fat man was so irritated that he would have
+thrown himself upon his adversary had not his companions surrounded the
+combatants to prevent a serious quarrel from taking place.
+
+“Fight with your fists, not with your tongues,” cried a spectator from a
+corner of the room.
+
+“No, hold them,” answered another, “they are going to fight. We are fine
+fellows, one against seven is our style.”
+
+Fine fighting men! One was here for having sneaked a pound of bread, the
+other is a pot-stealer; he was whipped by the executioner for stealing a
+pot of curdled milk from an old woman.
+
+“Enough, keep quiet,” cried a retired soldier, whose business it was to
+keep order in the barrack, and who slept in a corner of the room on a
+bedstead of his own.
+
+“Water, my children, water for Nevalid Petrovitch, water for our little
+brother, who has just woke up.”
+
+“Your brother! Am I your brother? Did we ever drink a roublesworth of
+spirits together?” muttered the old soldier as he passed his arms
+through the sleeves of his great-coat.
+
+The roll was about to be called, for it was already late. The prisoners
+were hurrying towards the kitchen. They had to put on their pelisses,
+and were to receive in their bi-coloured caps the bread which one of the
+cooks--one of the bakers, that is to say--was distributing among them.
+These cooks, like those who did the household work, were chosen by the
+prisoners themselves. There were two for the kitchen, making four in all
+for the convict prison. They had at their disposal the only
+kitchen-knife authorised in the prison, which was used for cutting up
+the bread and meat. The prisoners arranged themselves in groups around
+the tables as best they could in caps and pelisses, with leather girdles
+round their waists, all ready to begin work. Some of the convicts had
+kvas before them, in which they steeped pieces of bread. The noise was
+insupportable. Many of the convicts, however, were talking together in
+corners with a steady, tranquil air.
+
+“Good-morning and good appetite, Father Antonitch,” said a young
+prisoner, sitting down by the side of an old man, who had lost his
+teeth.
+
+“If you are not joking, well, good-morning,” said the latter, without
+raising his eyes, and endeavouring to masticate a piece of bread with
+his toothless gums.
+
+“I declare I fancied you were dead, Antonitch.”
+
+“Die first, I will follow you.”
+
+I sat down beside them. On my right two convicts were conversing with an
+attempt at dignity.
+
+“I am not likely to be robbed,” said one of them. “I am more afraid of
+stealing myself.”
+
+“It would not be a good idea to rob me. The devil! I should pay the man
+out.”
+
+“But what would you do, you are only a convict? We have no other name.
+You will see that she will rob you, the wretch, without even saying,
+‘Thank you.’ The money I gave her was wasted. Just fancy, she was here a
+few days ago! Where were we to go? Shall I ask permission to go into the
+house of Theodore, the executioner? He has still his house in the
+suburb, the one he bought from that Solomon, you know, that scurvy Jew
+who hung himself not long since.”
+
+“Yes, I know him, the one who sold liquor here three years ago, and who
+was called Grichka--the secret-drinking shop.”
+
+“I know.”
+
+“_All_ brag. You don’t know. In the first place it is another drinking
+shop.”
+
+“What do you mean, another? You don’t know what you are talking about. I
+will bring you as many witnesses as you like.”
+
+“Oh, you will bring them, will you? Who are you? Do you know to whom you
+are speaking?”
+
+“Yes, indeed.”
+
+“I have often thrashed you, though I don’t boast of it. Do not give
+yourself airs then.”
+
+“You have thrashed me? The man who will thrash me is not yet born; and
+the man who did thrash me is six feet beneath the ground.”
+
+“Plague-stricken rascal of Bender?”
+
+“May the Siberian leprosy devour you with ulcers!”
+
+“May a chopper cleave your dog of a head.”
+
+Insults were falling about like rain.
+
+“Come, now, they are going to fight. When men have not been able to
+conduct themselves properly they should keep silent. They are too glad
+to come and eat the Government bread, the rascals!”
+
+They were soon separated. Let them fight with the tongue as much as they
+wish. That is permitted. It is a diversion at the service of every one;
+but no blows. It is, indeed, only in extraordinary cases that blows were
+exchanged. If a fight took place, information was given to the Major,
+who ordered an inquiry or directed one himself; and then woe to the
+convicts. Accordingly they set their faces against anything like a
+serious quarrel; besides, they insulted one another chiefly to pass the
+time, as an oratorical exercise. They get excited; the quarrel takes a
+furious, ferocious character; they seem about to slaughter one another.
+Nothing of the kind takes place. As soon as their anger has reached a
+certain pitch they separate.
+
+That astonished me much, and if I relate some of the conversations
+between the convicts, I do so with a purpose. Could I have imagined that
+people could have insulted one another for pleasure, that they could
+find enjoyment in it?
+
+We must not forget the gratification of vanity. A dialectician, who
+knows how to insult artistically, is respected. A little more, and he
+would be applauded like an actor.
+
+Already, the night before, I noticed some glances in my direction. On
+the other hand, several convicts hung around me as if they had suspected
+that I had brought money with me. They endeavoured to get into my good
+graces by teaching me how to carry my irons without being incommoded.
+They also gave me--of course in return for money--a box with a lock, in
+order to keep safe the things which had been entrusted to me by the
+administration, and the few shirts that I had been allowed to bring with
+me to the convict prison. Not later than next morning these same
+prisoners stole my box, and drank the money which they had taken out of
+it.
+
+One of them became afterwards a great friend of mine, though he robbed
+me whenever an opportunity offered itself. He was, all the same, vexed
+at what he had done. He committed these thefts almost unconsciously, as
+if in the way of a duty. Consequently I bore him no grudge.
+
+These convicts let me know that one could have tea, and that I should do
+well to get myself a teapot. They found me one, which I hired for a
+certain time. They also recommended me a cook, who, for thirty kopecks a
+month, would arrange the dishes I might desire, if it was my intention
+to buy provisions and take my meals apart. Of course they borrowed money
+from me. The day of my arrival they asked me for some at three different
+times.
+
+The noblemen degraded from their position, here incarcerated in the
+convict prison, were badly looked upon by their fellow prisoners;
+although they had lost all their rights like the other convicts, they
+were not looked upon as comrades.
+
+In this instinctive repugnance there was a sort of reason. To them we
+were always gentlemen, although they often laughed at our fall.
+
+“Ah! it’s all over now. Mossieu’s carriage formerly crushed the
+passers-by at Moscow. Now Mossieu picks hemp!”
+
+They knew our sufferings, though we hid them as much as possible. It
+was, above all, when we were all working together that we had most to
+endure, for our strength was not so great as theirs, and we were really
+not of much assistance to them. Nothing is more difficult than to gain
+the confidence of the common people; above all, such people as these!
+
+There were only a few of us who were of noble birth in the whole prison.
+First, there were five Poles--of whom further on I shall speak in
+detail--they were detested by the convicts more, perhaps, than the
+Russian nobles. The Poles--I speak only of the political
+convicts--always behaved to them with a constrained and offensive
+politeness, scarcely ever speaking to them, and making no endeavour to
+conceal the disgust which they experienced in such company. The convicts
+understood all this, and paid them back in their own coin.
+
+Two years passed before I could gain the good-will of my companions; but
+the greater part of them were attached to me, and declared that I was a
+good fellow.
+
+There were altogether--counting myself--five Russian nobles in the
+convict prison. I had heard of one of them even before my arrival as a
+vile and base creature, horribly corrupt, doing the work of spy and
+informer. Accordingly, from the very first day I refused to enter into
+relations with this man. The second was the parricide of whom I have
+spoken in these memoirs. The third was Akimitch. I have scarcely ever
+seen such an original; and I have still a lively recollection of him.
+
+Tall, thin, weak-minded, and terribly ignorant, he was as argumentative
+and as particular about details as a German. The convicts laughed at
+him; but they feared him, on account of his susceptible, excitable, and
+quarrelsome disposition. As soon as he arrived, he was on a footing of
+perfect equality with them. He insulted them and beat them. Phenomenally
+just, it was sufficient for him that there was injustice, to interfere
+in an affair which did not concern him. He was, moreover, exceedingly
+simple. When he quarrelled with the convicts, he reproached them with
+being thieves, and exhorted them in all sincerity to steal no more. He
+had served as a sub-lieutenant in the Caucasus. I made friends with him
+the first day, and he related to me his “affair.” He had begun as a
+cadet in a Line regiment. After waiting some time to be appointed to his
+commission as sub-lieutenant, he at last received it, and was sent into
+the mountains to command a small fort. A small tributary prince in the
+neighbourhood set fire to the fort, and made a night attack, which had
+no success.
+
+Akimitch was very cunning, and pretended not to know that he was the
+author of the attack, which he attributed to some insurgents wandering
+about the mountains. After a month he invited the prince, in a friendly
+way, to come and see him. The prince arrived on horseback, without
+suspecting anything. Akimitch drew up his garrison in line of battle,
+and exposed to the soldiers the treason and villainy of his visitor. He
+reproached him with his conduct; proved to him that to set fire to the
+fort was a shameful crime; explained to him minutely the duties of a
+tributary prince; and then, by way of peroration to his harangue, had
+him shot. He at once informed his superior officers of this execution,
+with all the details necessary. Thereupon Akimitch was brought to trial.
+He appeared before a court-martial, and was condemned to death; but his
+sentence was commuted, and he was sent to Siberia as a convict of the
+second class--condemned, that is to say, to twelve years’ hard labour
+and imprisonment in a fortress. He admitted willingly that he had acted
+illegally, and that the prince ought to have been tried in a civil
+court, and not by a court-martial. Nevertheless, he could not understand
+that his action was a crime.
+
+“He had burned my fort; what was I to do? Was I to thank him for it?” he
+answered to my objections.
+
+Although the convicts laughed at Akimitch, and pretended that he was a
+little mad, they esteemed him all the same by reason of his cleverness
+and his precision.
+
+He knew all possible trades, and could do whatever you wished. He was
+cobbler, bootmaker, painter, carver, gilder, and locksmith. He had
+acquired these talents at the convict prison, for it was sufficient for
+him to see an object, in order to imitate it. He sold in the town, or
+caused to be sold, baskets, lanterns, and toys. Thanks to his work, he
+had always some money, which he employed in buying shirts, pillows, and
+so on. He had himself made a mattress, and as he slept in the same room
+as myself he was very useful to me at the beginning of my imprisonment.
+Before leaving prison to go to work, the convicts were drawn up in two
+ranks before the orderly-room, surrounded by an escort of soldiers with
+loaded muskets. An officer of Engineers then arrived, with the
+superintendent of the works and a few soldiers, who watched the
+operations. The superintendent counted the convicts, and sent them in
+bands to the places where they were to be occupied.
+
+I went with some other prisoners to the workshop of the Engineers--a low
+brick house built in the midst of a large court-yard full of materials.
+There was a forge there, and carpenters’, locksmiths’, and painters’
+workshops. Akimitch was assigned to the last. He boiled the oil for the
+varnish, mixed the colours, and painted tables and other pieces of
+furniture in imitation walnut.
+
+While I was waiting to have additional irons put on, I communicated to
+him my first impressions.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “they do not like nobles, above all those who have been
+condemned for political offences, and they take a pleasure in wounding
+their feelings. Is it not intelligible? We do not belong to them, we do
+not suit them. They have all been serfs or soldiers. Tell me what
+sympathy can they have for us. The life here is hard, but it is nothing
+in comparison with that of the disciplinary companies in Russia. There
+it is hell. The men who have been in them praise our convict prison. It
+is paradise compared to their purgatory. Not that the work is harder. It
+is said that with the convicts of the first class the administration--it
+is not exclusively military as it is here--acts quite differently from
+what it does towards us. They have their little houses there I have been
+told, for I have not seen for myself. They wear no uniform, their heads
+are not shaved, though, in my opinion, uniforms and shaved heads are not
+bad things; it is neater, and also it is more agreeable to the eye, only
+these men do not like it. Oh, what a Babel this place is! Soldiers,
+Circassians, old believers, peasants who have left their wives and
+families, Jews, Gypsies, people come from Heaven knows where, and all
+this variety of men are to live quietly together side by side, eat from
+the same dish, and sleep on the same planks. Not a moment’s liberty, no
+enjoyment except in secret; they must hide their money in their boots;
+and then always the convict prison at every moment--perpetually convict
+prison! Involuntarily wild ideas come to one.”
+
+As I already knew all this, I was above all anxious to question Akimitch
+in regard to our Major. He concealed nothing, and the impression which
+his story left upon me was far from being an agreeable one.
+
+I had to live for two years under the authority of this officer. All
+that Akimitch had told me about him was strictly true. He was a
+spiteful, ill-regulated man, terrible above all things, because he
+possessed almost absolute power over two hundred human beings. He looked
+upon the prisoners as his personal enemies--first, and very serious
+fault. His rare capacities, and, perhaps, even his good qualities, were
+perverted by his intemperance and his spitefulness. He sometimes fell
+like a bombshell into the barracks in the middle of the night. If he
+noticed a prisoner asleep on his back or his left side, he awoke him and
+said to him: “You must sleep as I ordered!” The convicts detested him
+and feared him like the plague. His repulsive, crimson countenance made
+every one tremble. We all knew that the Major was entirely in the hands
+of his servant Fedka, and that he had nearly gone mad when his dog
+“Treasure” fell ill. He preferred this dog to every other living
+creature.
+
+When Fedka told him that a convict, who had picked up some veterinary
+knowledge, made wonderful cures, he sent for him directly and said to
+him, “I entrust my dog to your care. If you cure ‘Treasure’ I will
+reward you royally.” The man, a very intelligent Siberian peasant, was
+indeed a good veterinary surgeon, but he was above all a cunning
+peasant. He used to tell his comrades long after the affair had taken
+place the story of his visit to the Major.
+
+“I looked at ‘Treasure,’ he was lying down on a sofa with his head on a
+white cushion. I saw at once that he had inflammation, and that he
+wanted bleeding. I think I could have cured him, but I said to myself,
+‘What will happen if the dog dies? It will be my fault.’ ‘No, your
+noble highness,’ I said to him, ‘you have called me too late. If I had
+seen your dog yesterday or the day before, he would now be restored to
+health; but at the present moment I can do nothing. He will die.’ And
+‘Treasure’ died.”
+
+I was told one day that a convict had tried to kill the Major. This
+prisoner had for several years been noticed for his submissive attitude
+and also his silence. He was regarded even as a madman. As he possessed
+some instruction he passed his nights reading the Bible. When everybody
+was asleep he rose, climbed up on to the stove, lit a church taper,
+opened his Gospel and began to read. He did this for an entire year.
+
+One fine day he left the ranks and declared that he would not go to
+work. He was reported to the Major, who flew into a rage, and hurried to
+the barracks. The convict rushed forward and hurled at him a brick,
+which he had procured beforehand; but it missed him. The prisoner was
+seized, tried, and whipped--it was a matter of a few moments--carried to
+the hospital, and died there three days afterwards. He declared during
+his last moments that he hated no one; but that he had wished to suffer.
+He belonged to no sect of fanatics. Afterwards, when people spoke of him
+in the barracks, it was always with respect.
+
+At last they put new irons on me. While they were being soldered a
+number of young women, selling little white loaves, came into the forge
+one after another. They were, for the most part, quite little girls who
+came to sell the loaves that their mothers had baked. As they got older
+they still continued to hang about us, but they no longer brought bread.
+There were always some of them about. There were also married women.
+Each roll cost two kopecks. Nearly all the prisoners used to have them.
+I noticed a prisoner who worked as a carpenter. He was already getting
+gray, but he had a ruddy, smiling complexion. He was joking with the
+vendors of rolls. Before they arrived he had tied a red handkerchief
+round his neck. A fat woman, much marked with the small-pox, put down
+her basket on the carpenter’s table. They began to talk.
+
+“Why did you not come yesterday?” said the convict, with a
+self-satisfied smile.
+
+“I did come; but you had gone,” replied the woman boldly.
+
+“Yes; they made us go away, otherwise we should have met. The day before
+yesterday they all came to see me.”
+
+“Who came?”
+
+“Why, Mariashka, Khavroshka, Tchekunda, Dougrochva” (the woman of four
+kopecks).
+
+“What,” I said to Akimitch, “is it possible that----?”
+
+“Yes; it happens sometimes,” he replied, lowering his eyes, for he was a
+very proper man.
+
+Yes; it happened sometimes, but rarely, and with unheard of
+difficulties. The convicts preferred to spend their money in drink. It
+was very difficult to meet these women. It was necessary to come to an
+agreement about the place, and the time; to arrange a meeting, to find
+solitude, and, what was most difficult of all, to avoid the
+escorts--almost an impossibility--and to spend relatively prodigious
+sums. I have sometimes, however, witnessed love scenes. One day three of
+us were heating a brick-kiln on the banks of the Irtitch. The soldiers
+of the escort were good-natured fellows. Two “blowers” (they were
+so-called) soon appeared.
+
+“Where were you staying so long?” said a prisoner to them, who had
+evidently been expecting them. “Was it at the Zvierkoffs that you were
+detained?”
+
+“At the Zvierkoffs? It will be fine weather, and the fowls will have
+teeth, when I go to see them,” replied one of the women.
+
+She was the dirtiest woman imaginable. She was called Tchekunda, and had
+arrived in company with her friend, the “four kopecks,” who was beneath
+all description.
+
+“It’s a long time since we have seen anything of you,” says the gallant
+to her of the four kopecks; “you seem to have grown thinner.”
+
+“Perhaps; formerly I was good-looking and plump, whereas now one might
+fancy I had swallowed eels.”
+
+“And you still run after the soldiers, is that so?”
+
+“All calumny on the part of wicked people; and after all, if I was to be
+flogged to death for it, I like soldiers.”
+
+“Never mind your soldiers, we’re the people to love; we have money.”
+
+Imagine this gallant with his shaved crown, with fetters on his ankles,
+dressed in a coat of two colours, and watched by an escort.
+
+As I was now returning to the prison, my irons had been put on. I wished
+Akimitch good-bye and went away, escorted by a soldier. Those who do
+task work return first, and, when I got back to the barracks, a good
+number of convicts were already there.
+
+As the kitchen could not have held the whole barrack-full at once, we
+did not all dine together. Those who came in first were first served. I
+tasted the cabbage soup, but, not being used to it, could not eat it,
+and I prepared myself some tea. I sat down at one end of the table, with
+a convict of noble birth like myself. The prisoners were going in and
+out. There was no want of room, for there were not many of them. Five of
+them sat down apart from the large table. The cook gave them each two
+ladles full of soup, and brought them a plate of fried fish. These men
+were having a holiday. They looked at us in a friendly manner. One of
+the Poles came in and took his seat by our side.
+
+“I was not with you, but I know that you are having a feast,” exclaimed
+a tall convict who now came in.
+
+He was a man of about fifty years, thin and muscular. His face indicated
+cunning, and, at the same time, liveliness. His lower lip, fleshy and
+pendant, gave him a soft expression.
+
+“Well, have you slept well? Why don’t you say how do you do? Well, now
+my friends of Kursk,” he said, sitting down by the side of the feasters,
+“good appetite? Here’s a new guest for you.”
+
+“We are not from the province of Kursk.”
+
+“Then my friends from Tambof, let me say?”
+
+“We are not from Tambof either. You have nothing to claim from us; if
+you want to enjoy yourself go to some rich peasant.”
+
+“I have Maria Ikotishna [from “ikot,” hiccough] in my belly, otherwise I
+should die of hunger. But where is your peasant to be found?”
+
+“Good heavens! we mean Gazin; go to him.”
+
+“Gazin is on the drink to-day, he’s devouring his capital.”
+
+“He has at least twenty roubles,” says another convict. “It is
+profitable to keep a drinking shop.”
+
+“You won’t have me? Then I must eat the Government food.”
+
+“Will you have some tea? If so, ask these noblemen for some.”
+
+“Where do you see any noblemen? They’re noblemen no longer. They’re not
+a bit better than us,” said in a sombre voice a convict who was seated
+in the corner, who hitherto had not risked a word.
+
+“I should like a cup of tea, but I am ashamed to ask for it. I have
+self-respect,” said the convict with the heavy lip, looking at me with a
+good-humoured air.
+
+“I will give you some if you like,” I said. “Will you have some?”
+
+“What do you mean--will I have some? Who would not have some?” he said,
+coming towards the table.
+
+“Only think! When he was free he ate nothing but cabbage soup and black
+bread, but now he is in prison he must have tea like a perfect
+gentleman,” continued the convict with the sombre air.
+
+“Does no one here drink tea?” I asked him; but he did not think me
+worthy of a reply.
+
+“White rolls, white rolls; who’ll buy?”
+
+A young prisoner was carrying in a net a load of calachi (scones), which
+he proposed to sell in the prison. For every ten that he sold, the baker
+gave him one for his trouble. It was precisely on this tenth scone that
+he counted for his dinner.
+
+“White rolls, white rolls,” he cried, as he entered the kitchen, “white
+Moscow rolls, all hot. I would eat the whole of them, but I want money,
+lots of money. Come, lads, there is only one left for any of you who has
+had a mother.”
+
+This appeal to filial love made every one laugh, and several of his
+white rolls were purchased.
+
+“Well,” he said, “Gazin has drunk in such a style, it is quite a sin. He
+has chosen a nice moment too. If the man with the eight eyes should
+arrive--we shall hide him.”
+
+“Is he very drunk?”
+
+“Yes, and ill-tempered too--unmanageable.”
+
+“There will be some fighting, then?”
+
+“Whom are they speaking of?” I said to the Pole, my neighbour.
+
+“Of Gazin. He is a prisoner who sells spirits. When he has gained a
+little money by his trade, he drinks it to the last kopeck; a cruel,
+malicious animal when he has been drinking. When sober, he is quiet
+enough, but when he is in drink he shows himself in his true character.
+He attacks people with the knife until it is taken from him.”
+
+“How do they manage that?”
+
+“Ten men throw themselves upon him and beat him like a sack without
+mercy until he loses consciousness. When he is half dead with the
+beating, they lay him down on his plank bedstead, and cover him over
+with his pelisse.”
+
+“But they might kill him.”
+
+“Any one else would die of it, but not he. He is excessively robust; he
+is the strongest of all the convicts. His constitution is so solid, that
+the day after one of these punishments he gets up perfectly sound.”
+
+“Tell me, please,” I continued, speaking to the Pole, “why these people
+keep their food to themselves, and at the same time seem to envy me my
+tea.”
+
+“Your tea has nothing to do with it. They are envious of you. Are you
+not a gentleman? You in no way resemble them. They would be glad to pick
+a quarrel with you in order to humiliate you. You don’t know what
+annoyances you will have to undergo. It is martyrdom for men like us to
+be here. Our life is doubly painful, and great strength of character can
+alone accustom one to it. You will be vexed and tormented in all sorts
+of ways on account of your food and your tea. Although the number of men
+who buy their own food and drink tea daily is large enough, they have a
+right to do so, you have not.”
+
+He got up and left the table a few minutes later. His predictions were
+already being fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_).
+
+
+Hardly had M. --cki--the Pole to whom I had been speaking--gone out when
+Gazin, completely drunk, threw himself all in a heap into the kitchen.
+
+To see a convict drunk in the middle of the day, when every one was
+about to be sent out to work--given the well-known severity of the
+Major, who at any moment might come to the barracks, the watchfulness of
+the under officer who never left the prison, the presence of the old
+soldiers and the sentinels--all this quite upset the ideas I had formed
+of our prison; and a long time passed before I was able to understand
+and explain to myself the effects, which in the first instance were
+enigmatic indeed.
+
+I have already said that all the convicts had a private occupation, and
+that this occupation was for them a natural and imperious one. They are
+passionately fond of money, and think more of it than of anything
+else--almost as much as of liberty. The convict is half-consoled if he
+can ring a few kopecks in his pocket. On the contrary, he is sad,
+restless, and despondent if he has no money. He is ready then to commit
+no matter what crime in order to get some. Nevertheless, in spite of the
+importance it possesses for the convicts, money does not remain long in
+their pockets. It is difficult to keep it. Sometimes it is confiscated,
+sometimes stolen. When the Major, in a sudden perquisition, discovered a
+small sum amassed with great trouble, he confiscated it. It may be that
+he laid it out in improving the food of the prisoners, for all the money
+taken from them went into his hands. But generally speaking it was
+stolen. A means of preserving it was, however, discovered. An old man
+from Starodoub, one of the “old believers,” took upon himself to conceal
+the convicts’ savings.
+
+I cannot resist my desire to say some words about this man, although it
+takes me away from my story. He was about sixty years old, thin, and
+getting very gray. He excited my curiosity the first time I saw him, for
+he was not like any of the others; his look was so tranquil and mild,
+and I always saw with pleasure his clear and limpid eyes, surrounded by
+a number of little wrinkles. I often talked with him, and rarely have I
+met with so kind, so benevolent a being. He had been consigned to hard
+labour for a serious crime. A certain number of the “old believers” at
+Starodoub had been converted to the orthodox religion. The Government
+had done everything to encourage them, and, at the same time, to convert
+the other dissenters. The old man and some other fanatics had resolved
+to “defend the faith.” When the orthodox church was being constructed in
+their town they set fire to the building. This offence had brought upon
+its author the sentence of deportation. This well-to-do shopkeeper--he
+was in trade--had left a wife and family whom he loved, and had gone off
+courageously into exile, believing in his blindness that he was
+“suffering for the faith.”
+
+When one had lived some time by the side of this kind old man, one could
+not help asking the question, how could he have rebelled? I spoke to him
+several times about his faith. He gave up none of his convictions, but
+in his answers I never noticed the slightest hatred; and yet he had
+destroyed a church, and was far from denying it. In his view, the
+offence he had committed and his martyrdom were things to be proud of.
+
+There were other “old believers” among the convicts--Siberians for the
+most part--men of well-developed intelligence, and as cunning as all
+peasants. Dialecticians in their way, they followed blindly their law,
+and delighted in discussing it. But they had great faults; they were
+haughty, proud, and very intolerant. The old man in no way resembled
+them. With full more belief in religious exposition than others of the
+same faith, he avoided all controversy. As he was of a gay and expansive
+disposition he often laughed--not with the coarse cynical laugh of the
+other convicts, but with a laugh of clearness and simplicity, in which
+there was something of the child, and which harmonised perfectly with
+his gray head. I may perhaps be in error, but it seems to me that a man
+may be known by his laugh alone. If the laugh of a man you are
+acquainted with inspires you with sympathy, be assured that he is an
+honest man.
+
+The old man had acquired the respect of all the prisoners without
+exception; but he was not proud of it. The convicts called him
+grandfather, and he took no offence. I then understood what an influence
+he must have exercised on his co-religionists.
+
+In spite of the firmness with which he supported his prison life, one
+felt that he was tormented by a profound, incurable melancholy. I slept
+in the same barrack with him. One night, towards three o’clock in the
+morning, I woke up; I heard a slow, stifling sob. The old man was
+sitting upon the stove--the same place where the convict who had wished
+to kill the Major was in the habit of praying--and was reading from his
+manuscript prayer-book. As he wept I heard him repeating: “Lord, do not
+forsake me. Master, strengthen me. My poor little children, my dear
+little children, we shall never see one another again.” I cannot say how
+much this moved me.
+
+We used to give our money then to this old man. Heaven knows how the
+idea got abroad in our barrack that he could not be robbed. It was well
+known that he hid somewhere the savings deposited with him, but no one
+had been able to discover his secret. He revealed it to us; to the
+Poles, and myself. One of the stakes of the palisade bore a branch which
+apparently belonged to it, but it could be taken away, and then replaced
+in the stake. When the branch was removed a hole could be seen. This was
+the hiding-place in question.
+
+I now resume the thread of my narrative. Why does not the convict save
+up his money? Not only is it difficult for him to keep it, but the
+prison life, moreover, is so sad that the convict by his very nature
+thirsts for freedom of action. By his position in society he is so
+irregular a being that the idea of swallowing up his capital in orgies,
+of intoxicating himself with revelry, seems to him quite natural if only
+he can procure himself one moment’s forgetfulness. It was strange to see
+certain individuals bent over their labour only with the object of
+spending in one day all their gains, even to the last kopeck. Then they
+would go to work again until a new debauch, looked forward to months
+beforehand. Certain convicts were fond of new clothes, more or less
+singular in style, such as fancy trousers and waistcoats; but it was
+above all for the coloured shirts that the convicts had a pronounced
+taste; also for belts with metal clasps.
+
+On holidays the dandies of the prison put on their Sunday best. They
+were worth seeing as they strutted about their part of the barracks. The
+pleasure of feeling themselves well dressed amounted with them to
+childishness; indeed, in many things convicts are only children. Their
+fine clothes disappeared very soon, often the evening of the very day on
+which they had been bought. Their owners pledged them or sold them again
+for a trifle.
+
+The feasts were generally held at fixed times. They coincided with
+religious festivals, or with the name’s day of the drunken convict. On
+getting up in the morning he would place a wax taper before the holy
+image, then he said his prayer, dressed, and ordered his dinner. He had
+bought beforehand meat, fish, and little patties; then he gorged like an
+ox, almost always alone. It was very rare to see a convict invite
+another convict to share his repast. At dinner the vodka was produced.
+The convict would suck it up like the sole of a boot, and then walk
+through the barracks swaggering and tottering. It was his desire to show
+all his companions that he was drunk, that he was carrying on, and thus
+obtain their particular esteem.
+
+The Russian people feel always a certain sympathy for a drunken man;
+among us it amounted really to esteem. In the convict prison
+intoxication was a sort of aristocratic distinction.
+
+As soon as he felt himself in spirits the convict ordered a musician. We
+had among us a little fellow--a deserter from the army--very ugly, but
+who was the happy possessor of a violin on which he could play. As he
+had no trade he was always ready to follow the festive convict from
+barrack to barrack grinding him out dance tunes with all his strength.
+His countenance often expressed the fatigue and disgust which his
+music--always the same--caused him; but when the prisoner called out to
+him, “Go on playing, are you not paid for it?” he attacked his violin
+more violently than ever. These drunkards felt sure that they would be
+taken care of, and in case of the Major arriving would be concealed from
+his watchful eyes. This service we rendered in the most disinterested
+spirit. On their side the under officer, and the old soldiers who
+remained in the prison to keep order, were perfectly reassured. The
+drunkard would cause no disturbance. At the least scare of revolt or
+riot he would have been quieted and then bound. Accordingly the inferior
+officers closed their eyes; they knew that if vodka was forbidden all
+would go wrong. How was this vodka procured?
+
+It was bought in the convict prison itself from the drink-sellers, as
+they were called, who followed this trade--a very lucrative
+one--although the tipplers were not very numerous, for revelry was
+expensive, especially when it is considered how hardly money was earned.
+The drink business was begun, continued, and ended in rather an original
+manner. The prisoner who knew no trade, would not work, and who,
+nevertheless, desired to get speedily rich, made up his mind, when he
+possessed a little money, to buy and sell vodka. The enterprise was
+risky, it required great daring, for the speculator hazarded his skin as
+well as liquor. But the drink-seller hesitated before no obstacles. At
+the outset he brought the vodka himself to the prison and got rid of it
+on the most advantageous terms. He repeated this operation a second and
+a third time. If he had not been discovered by the officials, he now
+possessed a sum which enabled him to extend his business. He became a
+capitalist with agents and assistants, he risked much less and gained
+much more. Then his assistants incurred risk in place of him.
+
+Prisons are always abundantly inhabited by ruined men without the habit
+of work, but endowed with skill and daring; their only capital is their
+back. They often decide to put it into circulation, and propose to the
+drink-seller to introduce vodka into the barracks. There is always in
+the town a soldier, a shopkeeper, or some loose woman who, for a
+stipulated sum--rather a small one--buys vodka with the drink-seller’s
+money, hides it in a place known to the convict-smuggler, near the
+workshop where he is employed. The person who supplies the vodka, tastes
+the precious liquid almost always as he is carrying it to the
+hiding-place, and replaces relentlessly what he has drunk by pure water.
+The purchaser may take it or leave it, but he cannot give himself airs.
+He thinks himself very lucky that his money has not been stolen from
+him, and that he has received some kind of vodka in exchange. The man
+who is to take it into the prison--to whom the drink-seller has
+indicated the hiding-place--goes to the supplier with bullock’s
+intestines which after being washed, have been filled with water, and
+which thus preserves their softness and suppleness. When the intestines
+have been filled with vodka, the smuggler rolls them round his body.
+Now, all the cunning, the adroitness of this daring convict is shown.
+The man’s honour is at stake. It is necessary for him to take in the
+escort and the man on guard; and he will take them in. If the carrier is
+artful, the soldier of the escort--sometimes a recruit--does not notice
+anything particular; for the prisoner has studied him thoroughly,
+besides which he has artfully combined the hour and the place of
+meeting. If the convict--a bricklayer for example--climbs up on the wall
+that he is building, the escort will certainly not climb up after him to
+watch his movements. Who then, will see what he is about? On getting
+near the prison, he gets ready a piece of fifteen or twenty kopecks, and
+waits at the gate for the corporal on guard.
+
+The corporal examines, feels, and searches each convict on his return to
+the barracks, and then opens the gate to him. The carrier of the vodka
+hopes that he will be ashamed to examine him too much in detail; but if
+the corporal is a cunning fellow, that is just what he will do; and in
+that case he finds the contraband vodka. The convict has now only one
+chance of salvation. He slips into the hand of the under officer the
+piece of money he holds in readiness, and often, thanks to this
+manœuvre, the vodka arrives safely in the hands of the drink-seller.
+But sometimes the trick does not succeed, and it is then that the sole
+capital of the smuggler enters really into circulation. A report is made
+to the Major, who sentences the unhappy culprit to a thorough flogging.
+As for the vodka, it is confiscated. The smuggler undergoes his
+punishment without betraying the speculator, not because such a
+denunciation would disgrace him, but because it would bring him nothing.
+He would be flogged all the same, the only consolation he could have
+would be that the drink-seller would share his punishment; but as he
+needs him, he does not denounce him, although having allowed himself to
+be surprised, he will receive no payment from him.
+
+Denunciation, however, flourishes in the convict prison. Far from
+hating spies or keeping apart from them, the prisoners often make
+friends of them. If any one had taken it into his head to prove to the
+convicts all the baseness of mutual denunciation, no one in the prison
+would have understood. The former nobleman of whom I have already
+spoken, that cowardly and violent creature with whom I had already
+broken off all relations immediately after my arrival in the fortress,
+was the friend of Fedka, the Major’s body-servant. He used to tell him
+everything that took place in the convict prison, and this was naturally
+carried back to the servant’s master. Every one knew it, but no one had
+the idea of showing any ill-will against the man, or of reproaching him
+with his conduct. When the vodka arrived without accident at the prison,
+the speculator paid the smuggler and made up his accounts. His
+merchandise had already cost him sufficiently dear; and that the profit
+might be greater, he diluted it by adding fifty per cent. of pure water.
+He was ready, and had only to wait for customers.
+
+The first holiday, perhaps even on a week-day, a convict would turn up.
+He had been working like a negro for many months in order to save up,
+kopeck by kopeck, a small sum which he was resolved to spend all at
+once. These days of rejoicing had been looked forward to long
+beforehand. He had dreamt of them during the endless winter nights,
+during his hardest labour, and the perspective had supported him under
+his severest trials. The dawn of this day so impatiently awaited, has
+just appeared. He has some money in his pocket. It has been neither
+stolen from him nor confiscated. He is free to spend it. Accordingly he
+takes his savings to the drink-seller, who, to begin with, gives vodka
+which is almost pure--it has been only twice baptized--but gradually, as
+the bottle gets more and more empty, he fills it up with water.
+Accordingly the convict pays for his vodka five or six times as much as
+he would in a tavern.
+
+It may be imagined how many glasses, and, above all, what sums of money
+are required before the convict is drunk. However, as he has lost the
+habit of drinking, the little alcohol which remains in the liquid
+intoxicates him rapidly enough; he goes on drinking until there is
+nothing left; he pledges or sells all his new clothes--for the
+drink-seller is at the same time a pawnbroker. As his personal garments
+are not very numerous he next pledges the clothes supplied to him by the
+Government. When the drink has made away with his last shirt, his last
+rag, he lies down and wakes up the next morning with a bad headache. In
+vain he begs the drink-seller to give him credit for a drop of vodka in
+order to remove his depression; he experiences a direct refusal. That
+very day he sets to work again. For several months together, he will
+weary himself out while looking forward to such a debauch as the one
+which has now disappeared in the past. Little by little he regains
+courage while waiting for such another day, still far off, but which
+ultimately will arrive. As for the drink-seller, if he has gained a
+large sum--some dozen of roubles--he procures some more vodka, but this
+time he does not baptize it, because he intends it for himself. Enough
+of trade! it is time for him to amuse himself. Accordingly he eats,
+drinks, pays for a little music--his means allow him to grease the palm
+of the inferior officers in the convict prison. This festival lasts
+sometimes for several days. When his stock of vodka is exhausted, he
+goes and drinks with the other drink-sellers who are waiting for him; he
+then drinks up his last kopeck.
+
+However careful the convicts may be in watching over their companions in
+debauchery, it sometimes happens that the Major or the officer on guard
+notices what is going on. The drunkard is then dragged to the
+orderly-room, his money is confiscated if he has any left, and he is
+flogged. The convict shakes himself like a beaten dog, returns to
+barracks, and, after a few days, resumes his trade as drink-seller.
+
+It sometimes happens that among the convicts there are admirers of the
+fair sex. For a sufficiently large sum of money they succeed,
+accompanied by a soldier whom they have corrupted, in getting secretly
+out of the fortress into a suburb instead of going to work. There in an
+apparently quiet house a banquet is held at which large sums of money
+are spent. The convicts’ money is not to be despised, accordingly the
+soldiers will sometimes arrange these temporary escapes beforehand, sure
+as they are of being generously recompensed. Generally speaking these
+soldiers are themselves candidates for the convict prison. The escapades
+are scarcely ever discovered. I must add that they are very rare, for
+they are very expensive, and the admirers of the fair sex are obliged to
+have recourse to other less costly means.
+
+At the beginning of my stay, a young convict with very regular features
+excited my curiosity; his name was Sirotkin, he was in many respects an
+enigmatic being. His face had struck me, he was not more than
+twenty-three years of age, and he belonged to the special section; that
+is to say, he was condemned to hard labour in perpetuity. He accordingly
+was to be looked upon as one of the most dangerous of military
+criminals. Mild and tranquil, he spoke little and rarely laughed; his
+blue eyes, his clear complexion, his fair hair gave him a soft
+expression, which even his shaven crown did not destroy. Although he had
+no trade, he managed to get himself money from time to time. He was
+remarkably lazy, and always dressed like a sloven; but if any one was
+generous enough to present him with a red shirt, he was beside himself
+with joy at having a new garment, and he exhibited it everywhere.
+Sirotkin neither drank nor played, and he scarcely ever quarrelled with
+the other convicts. He walked about with his hands in his pockets
+peacefully, and with a pensive air. What he was thinking of I cannot
+say. When any one called to him, to ask him a question, he replied with
+deference, precisely, without chattering like the others. He had in his
+eyes the expression of a child of ten; when he had money he bought
+nothing of what the others looked upon as indispensable. His vest might
+be torn, he did not get it mended, any more than he bought himself new
+boots. What particularly pleased him were the little white rolls and
+gingerbread, which he would eat with the satisfaction of a child of
+seven. When he was not at work he wandered about the barracks; when
+every one else was occupied, he remained with his arms by his sides; if
+any one joked with him, or laughed at him--which happened often
+enough--he turned on his heel without speaking and went elsewhere. If
+the pleasantry was too strong he blushed. I often asked myself for what
+crime he could have been condemned to hard labour. One day when I was
+ill, and lying in the hospital, Sirotkin was also there, stretched out
+on a bedstead not far from me. I entered into conversation with him; he
+became animated, and told me freely how he had been taken for a soldier,
+how his mother had followed him in tears, and what treatment he had
+endured in military service. He added that he had never been able to
+accustom himself to this life; every one was severe and angry with him
+about nothing, his officers were always against him.
+
+“But why did they send you here?--and into the special section above
+all! Ah, Sirotkin!”
+
+“Yes, Alexander Petrovitch, although I was only one year with the
+battalion, I was sent here for killing my captain, Gregory Petrovitch.”
+
+“I heard about that, but I did not believe it; how was it that you
+killed him?”
+
+“All that was told you was true; my life was insupportable.”
+
+“But the other recruits supported it well enough. It is very hard at the
+beginning, but men get accustomed to it and end by becoming excellent
+soldiers. Your mother must have pampered you and spoiled you. I am sure
+that she fed you with gingerbread and with sweet milk until you were
+eighteen.”
+
+“My mother, it is true, was very fond of me. When I left her she took
+to her bed and remained there. How painful to me everything in my
+military life was; after that all went wrong. I was perpetually being
+punished, and why? I obeyed every one, I was exact, careful. I did not
+drink, I borrowed from no one--it’s all up with a man when he begins to
+borrow--and yet every one around me was harsh and cruel. I sometimes hid
+myself in a corner and did nothing but sob. One day, or rather one
+night, I was on guard. It was autumn: there was a strong wind, and it
+was so dark that you could not see a speck, and I was sad, so sad! I
+took the bayonet from the end of my musket and placed it by my side.
+Then I put the barrel to my breast and with my big toe--I had taken my
+boot off--pressed the trigger. It missed fire. I looked at my musket and
+loaded it with a charge of fresh powder. Then I broke off the corner of
+my flint, and once more I placed the muzzle against my breast. Again
+there was a misfire. What was I to do? I said to myself. I put my boot
+on, I fastened my bayonet to the barrel, and walked up and down with my
+musket on my shoulder. Let them do what they like, I said to myself; but
+I will not be a soldier any longer. Half-an-hour afterwards the captain
+arrived, making his rounds. He came straight upon me. ‘Is that the way
+you carry yourself when you are on guard?’ I seized my musket, and stuck
+the bayonet into his body. Then I had to walk forty-six versts. That is
+how I came to be in the special section.”
+
+He was telling no falsehood, yet I did not understand how they could
+have sent him there; such crimes deserve a much less severe punishment.
+Sirotkin was the only one of the convicts who was really handsome. As
+for his companions of the special section--to the number of
+fifteen--they were frightful to behold with their hideous, disgusting
+physiognomies. Gray heads were plentiful among them. I shall speak of
+these men further on. Sirotkin was often on good terms with Gazin, the
+drink-seller, of whom I have already spoken at the beginning of this
+chapter.
+
+This Gazin was a terrible being; the impression that he produced on
+every one was confusing or appalling. It seemed to me that a more
+ferocious, a more monstrous creature could not exist. Yet I have seen at
+Tobolsk, Kameneff, the brigand, celebrated for his crimes. Later, I saw
+Sokoloff, the escaped convict, formerly a deserter, who was a ferocious
+creature; but neither of them inspired me with so much disgust as Gazin.
+I often fancied that I had before my eyes an enormous, gigantic spider
+of the size of a man. He was a Tartar, and there was no convict so
+strong as he was. It was less by his great height and his herculean
+construction, than by his enormous and deformed head, that he inspired
+terror. The strangest reports were current about him. Some said that he
+had been a soldier, others that he had escaped from Nertchinsk, and that
+he had been exiled several times to Siberia, but had always succeeded in
+getting away. Landing at last in our convict prison, he belonged there
+to the special section. It appeared that he had taken a pleasure in
+killing little children when he had attracted them to some deserted
+place; then he frightened them, tortured them, and after having fully
+enjoyed the terror and the convulsions of the poor little things, he
+killed them resolutely and with delight. These horrors had perhaps been
+imagined by reason of the painful impression that the monster produced
+upon us; but they seemed probable, and harmonised with his physiognomy.
+Nevertheless, when Gazin was not drunk, he conducted himself well
+enough.
+
+He was always quiet, never quarrelled, avoided all disputes as if from
+contempt for his companions, just as though he had entertained a high
+opinion of himself. He spoke very little, all his movements were
+measured, calm, resolute. His look was not without intelligence, but its
+expression was cruel and derisive like his smile. Of all the convicts
+who sold vodka, he was the richest. Twice a year he got completely
+drunk, and it was then that all his brutal ferocity exhibited itself.
+Little by little he got excited, and began to tease the prisoners with
+venomous satire prepared long beforehand. Finally when he was quite
+drunk, he had attacks of furious rage, and, seizing a knife, would rush
+upon his companions. The convicts who knew his herculean vigour, avoided
+him and protected themselves against him, for he would throw himself on
+the first person he met. A means of disarming him had been discovered.
+Some dozen prisoners would rush suddenly upon Gazin, and give him
+violent blows in the pit of the stomach, in the belly, and generally
+beneath the region of the heart, until he lost consciousness. Any one
+else would have died under such treatment, but Gazin soon got well. When
+he had been well beaten they would wrap him up in his pelisse, and throw
+him upon his plank bedstead, leaving him to digest his drink. The next
+day he woke up almost well, and went to his work silent and sombre.
+Every time that Gazin got drunk, all the prisoners knew how his day
+would finish. He knew also, but he drank all the same. Several years
+passed in this way. Then it was noticed that Gazin had lost his energy,
+and that he was beginning to get weak. He did nothing but groan,
+complaining of all kinds of illnesses. His visits to the hospital became
+more and more frequent. “He is giving in,” said the prisoners.
+
+At one time Gazin had gone into the kitchen followed by the little
+fellow who scraped the violin, and whom the convicts in their
+festivities used to hire to play to them. He stopped in the middle of
+the hall silently examining his companions one after another. No one
+breathed a word. When he saw me with my companions, he looked at us in
+his malicious, jeering style, and smiled horribly with the air of a man
+who was satisfied with a good joke that he had just thought of. He
+approached our table, tottering.
+
+“Might I ask,” he said, “where you get the money which allows you to
+drink tea?”
+
+I exchanged a look with my neighbour. I understood that the best thing
+for us was to be silent, and not to answer. The least contradiction
+would have put Gazin in a passion.
+
+“You must have money,” he continued, “you must have a good deal of money
+to drink tea; but, tell me, are you sent to hard labour to drink tea? I
+say, did you come here for that purpose? Please answer, I should like to
+know.”
+
+Seeing that we were resolved on silence, and that we had determined not
+to pay any attention to him, he ran towards us, livid and trembling with
+rage. At two steps’ distance, he saw a heavy box, which served to hold
+the bread given for the dinner and supper of the convicts. Its contents
+were sufficient for the meal of half the prisoners. At this moment it
+was empty. He seized it with both hands and brandished it above our
+heads. Although murder, or attempted, was an inexhaustible source of
+trouble for the convicts--examinations, counter-examinations, and
+inquiries without end would be the natural consequence--and though
+quarrels were generally cut short, when they did not lead to such
+serious results, yet every one remained silent and waited.
+
+Not one word in our favour, not one cry against Gazin. The hatred of all
+the prisoners for all who were of gentle birth was so great that every
+one of them was evidently pleased to see that we were in danger. But a
+fortunate incident terminated this scene, which must have become tragic.
+Gazin was about to let fly the enormous box, which he was turning and
+twisting above his head, when a convict ran in from the barracks, and
+cried out:
+
+“Gazin, they have stolen your vodka!”
+
+The horrible brigand let fall the box with a frightful oath, and ran out
+of the kitchen.
+
+“Well, God has saved them,” said the prisoners among themselves,
+repeating the words several times.
+
+I never knew whether his vodka had been stolen, or whether it was only a
+stratagem invented to save us.
+
+That same evening, before the closing of the barracks, when it was
+already dark, I walked to the side of the palisade. A heavy feeling of
+sadness weighed upon my soul. During all the time that I passed in the
+convict prison I never felt myself so miserable as on that evening,
+though the first day is always the hardest, whether at hard labour or in
+the prison. One thought in particular had left me no respite since my
+deportation--a question insoluble then and insoluble now. I reflected on
+the inequality of the punishments inflicted for the same crimes. Often,
+indeed, one crime cannot be compared even approximately to another. Two
+murderers kill a man under circumstances which in each case are minutely
+examined and weighed. They each receive the same punishment; and yet by
+what an abyss are their two actions separated! One has committed a
+murder for a trifle--for an onion. He has killed on the high-road a
+peasant who was passing, and found on him an onion, and nothing else.
+
+“Well, I was sent to hard labour for a peasant who had nothing but an
+onion!”
+
+“Fool that you are! an onion is worth a kopeck. If you had killed a
+hundred peasants you would have had a hundred kopecks, or one rouble.”
+The above is a prison joke.
+
+Another criminal has killed a debauchee who was oppressing or
+dishonouring his wife, his sister, or his daughter.
+
+A third, a vagabond, half dead with hunger, pursued by a whole band of
+police, was defending his liberty, his life. He is to be regarded as on
+an equality with the brigand who assassinates children for his
+amusement, for the pleasure of feeling their warm blood flow over his
+hands, of seeing them shudder in a last bird-like palpitation beneath
+the knife which tears their flesh!
+
+They will all alike be sent to hard labour; though the sentence will
+perhaps not be for the same number of years. But the variations in the
+punishment are not very numerous, whereas different kinds of crimes may
+be reckoned by thousands. As many characters, so many crimes.
+
+Let us admit that it is impossible to get rid of this first inequality
+in punishment, that the problem is insoluble, and that in connection
+with penal matters it is the squaring of the circle. Let all that be
+admitted; but even if this inequality cannot be avoided, there is
+another thing to be thought of--the consequences of the punishment. Here
+is a man who is wasting away like a candle; there is another one, on the
+contrary, who had no idea before going into exile that there could be
+such a gay, such an idle life, where he would find a circle of such
+agreeable friends. Individuals of this latter class are to be found in
+the convict prison.
+
+Now take a man of heart, of cultivated mind, and of delicate conscience.
+What he feels kills him more certainly than the material punishment. The
+judgment which he himself pronounces on his crime is more pitiless than
+that of the most severe tribunal, the most Draconian law. He lives by
+the side of another convict, who has not once reflected on the murder he
+is expiating, during the whole time of his sojourn in the convict
+prison. He, perhaps, even considers himself innocent. Are there not,
+also, poor devils who commit crimes in order to be sent to hard labour,
+and thus to escape the liberty which is much more painful than
+confinement? A man’s life is miserable, he has never, perhaps, been able
+to satisfy his hunger. He is worked to death in order to enrich his
+master. In the convict prison his work will be less severe, less
+crushing. He will eat as much as he wants, better than he could ever
+have hoped to eat, had he remained free. On holidays he will have meat,
+and fine people will give him alms, and his evening’s work will bring
+him in some money. And the society one meets with in the convict prison,
+is that to be counted for nothing? The convicts are clever, wide-awake
+people, who are up to everything. The new arrival can scarcely conceal
+the admiration he feels for his companions in labour. He has seen
+nothing like it before, and he will consider himself in the best
+company possible.
+
+Is it possible that men so differently situated can feel in an equal
+degree the punishment inflicted? But why think about questions that are
+insoluble? The drum beats, let us go back to barracks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)
+
+
+We were between walls once more. The doors of the barracks were locked,
+each with a particular padlock, and the prisoners remained shut up till
+the next morning.
+
+The verification was made by a non-commissioned officer accompanied by
+two soldiers. When by chance an officer was present, the convicts were
+drawn up in the court-yard, but generally speaking they were identified
+in the buildings. As the soldiers often made mistakes, they went out and
+came back in order to count us again and again, until their reckoning
+was satisfactory, then the barracks were closed. Each one contained
+about thirty prisoners, and we were very closely packed in our camp
+bedsteads. As it was too soon to go to sleep, the convicts occupied
+themselves with work.
+
+Besides the old soldier of whom I have spoken, who slept in our
+dormitory, and represented there the administration of the prison, there
+was in our barrack another old soldier wearing a medal as rewarded for
+good conduct. It happened often enough, however, that the good-conduct
+men themselves committed offences for which they were sentenced to be
+whipped. They then lost their rank, and were immediately replaced by
+comrades whose conduct was considered satisfactory.
+
+Our good-conduct man was no other than Akim Akimitch. To my great
+astonishment, he was very rough with the prisoners, but they only
+replied by jokes. The other old soldier, more prudent, interfered with
+no one, and if he opened his mouth, it was only as a matter of form, as
+an affair of duty. For the most part he remained silent, seated on his
+little bedstead, occupied in mending his own boots.
+
+That day I could not help making to myself an observation, the accuracy
+of which became afterwards apparent: that all those who are not convicts
+and who have to deal with them, whoever they may be--beginning with the
+soldiers of the escort and the sentinels--look upon the convicts in a
+false and exaggerated light, expecting that for a yes or a no, these men
+will throw themselves upon them knife in hand. The prisoners, perfectly
+conscious of the fear they inspire, show a certain arrogance.
+Accordingly, the best prison director is the one who experiences no
+emotion in their presence. In spite of the airs they give themselves,
+the convicts prefer that confidence should be placed in them. By such
+means, indeed, they may be conciliated. I have more than once had
+occasion to notice their astonishment at an official entering their
+prison without an escort, and certainly their astonishment was not
+unflattering. A visitor who is intrepid imposes respect. If anything
+unfortunate happens, it will not be in his presence. The terror inspired
+by the convicts is general, and yet I saw no foundation for it. Is it
+the appearance of the prisoner, his brigand-like look, that causes a
+certain repugnance? Is it not rather the feeling that invades you
+directly you enter the prison, that in spite of all efforts, all
+precautions, it is impossible to turn a living man into a corpse, to
+stifle his feelings, his thirst for vengeance and for life, his
+passions, and his imperious desire to satisfy them? However that may be,
+I declare that there is no reason for fearing the convicts. A man does
+not throw himself so quickly nor so easily upon his fellow-man, knife in
+hand. Few accidents happen; sometimes they are so rare that the danger
+may be looked upon as non-existent.
+
+I speak, it must be understood, only of prisoners already condemned,
+who are undergoing their punishment, and some of whom are almost happy
+to find themselves in the convict prison; so attractive under all
+circumstances is a new form of life. These latter live quiet and
+contented. As for the turbulent ones, the convicts themselves keep them
+in restraint, and their arrogance never goes too far. The prisoner,
+audacious and reckless as he may be, is afraid of every official
+connected with the prison. It is by no means the same with the accused
+whose fate has not been decided. Such a one is quite capable of
+attacking, no matter whom, without any motive of hatred, and solely
+because he is to be whipped the next day. If, indeed, he commits a fresh
+crime his offence becomes complicated. Punishment is delayed, and he
+gains time. The act of aggression is explained; it has a cause, an
+object. The convict wishes at all hazards to change his fate, and that
+as soon as possible. In connection with this, I myself have witnessed a
+physiological fact of the strangest kind.
+
+In the section of military convicts was an old soldier who had been
+condemned to two years’ hard labour, a great boaster, and at the same
+time a coward. Generally speaking, the Russian soldier does not boast.
+He has no time for doing so, even had he the inclination. When such a
+one appears among a multitude of others, he is always a coward and a
+rogue. Dutoff--that was the name of the prisoner of whom I am
+speaking--underwent his punishment, and then went back to the same
+battalion in the Line; but, like all who are sent to the convict prison
+to be corrected, he had been thoroughly corrupted. A “return horse”
+re-appears in the convict prison after two or three weeks’ liberty, not
+for a comparatively short time, but for fifteen or twenty years. So it
+happened in the case of Dutoff. Three weeks after he had been set at
+liberty, he robbed one of his comrades, and was, moreover, mutinous. He
+was taken before a court-martial and sentenced to a severe form of
+corporal punishment. Horribly frightened, like the coward that he was,
+at the prospect of punishment, he threw himself, knife in hand, on to
+the officer of the guard, as he entered his dungeon on the eve of the
+day that he was to run the gauntlet through the men of his company. He
+quite understood that he was aggravating his offence, and that the
+duration of his punishment would be increased; but all he wanted was to
+postpone for some days, or at least for some hours, a terrible moment.
+He was such a coward that he did not even wound the officer whom he had
+attacked. He had, indeed, only committed this assault in order to add a
+new crime to the last already against him, and thus defer the sentence.
+
+The moment preceding the punishment is terrible for the man condemned to
+the rods. I have seen many of them on the eve of the fatal day. I
+generally met with them in the hospital when I was ill, which happened
+often enough. In Russia the people who show most compassion for the
+convicts are certainly the doctors, who never make between the prisoners
+the distinctions observed by other persons brought into direct relations
+with them. In this respect the common people can alone be compared with
+the doctors, for they never reproach a criminal with the crime that he
+has committed, whatever it may be. They forgive him in consideration of
+the sentence passed upon him.
+
+Is it not known that the common people throughout Russia call crime a
+“misfortune,” and the criminal an “unfortunate”? This definition is
+expressive, profound, and, moreover, unconscious, instinctive. To the
+doctor the convicts have naturally recourse, above all when they are to
+undergo corporal punishment. The prisoner who has been before a
+court-martial knows pretty well at what moment his sentence will be
+executed. To escape it he gets himself sent to the hospital, in order to
+postpone for some days the terrible moment. When he is declared restored
+to health, he knows that the day after he leaves the hospital this
+moment will arrive. Accordingly, on quitting the hospital the convict is
+always in a state of agitation. Some of them may endeavour from vanity
+to conceal their anxiety, but no one is taken in by that; every one
+understands the cruelty of such a moment, and is silent from humane
+motives.
+
+I knew one young convict, an ex-soldier, sentenced for murder, who was
+to receive the maximum of rods. The eve of the day on which he was to be
+flogged, he had resolved to drink a bottle of vodka in which he had
+infused a quantity of snuff.
+
+The prisoner condemned to the rods always drinks, before the critical
+moment arrives, a certain amount of spirits which he has procured long
+beforehand, and often at a fabulous price. He would deprive himself of
+the necessaries of life for six months rather than not be in a position
+to swallow half a pint of vodka before the flogging. The convicts are
+convinced that a drunken man suffers less from the sticks or whip than
+one who is in cold blood.
+
+I will return to my narrative. The poor devil felt ill a few moments
+after he had swallowed his bottle of vodka. He vomited blood, and was
+carried in a state of unconsciousness to the hospital. His lungs were so
+much injured by this accident that phthisis declared itself, and carried
+off the soldier in a few months. The doctors who had attended him never
+knew the origin of his illness.
+
+If examples of cowardice are not rare among the prisoners, it must be
+added that there are some whose intrepidity is quite astounding. I
+remember many instances of courage pushed to the extreme. The arrival in
+the hospital of a terrible bandit remains fixed in my memory.
+
+One fine summer day the report was spread in the infirmary that the
+famous prisoner, Orloff, was to be flogged the same evening, and that he
+would be brought afterwards to the hospital. The prisoners who were
+already there said that the punishment would be a cruel one, and every
+one--including myself I must admit--was awaiting with curiosity the
+arrival of this brigand, about whom the most unheard-of things were
+told. He was a malefactor of a rare kind, capable of assassinating in
+cold blood old men and children. He possessed an indomitable force of
+will, and was fully conscious of his power. As he had been guilty of
+several crimes, they had condemned him to be flogged through the ranks.
+
+He was brought, or, rather carried, in towards evening. The place was
+already dark. Candles were lighted. Orloff was excessively pale, almost
+unconscious, with his thick curly hair of dull black without the least
+brilliancy. His back was skinned and swollen, blue, and stained with
+blood. The prisoners nursed him throughout the night; they changed his
+poultices, placed him on his side, prepared for him the lotion ordered
+by the doctor; in a word, showed as much solicitude for him as for a
+relation or benefactor.
+
+Next day he had fully recovered his faculties, and took one or two turns
+round the room. I was much astonished, for he was broken down and
+powerless when he was brought in. He had received half the number of
+blows ordered by the sentence. The doctor had stopped the punishment,
+convinced that if it were continued Orloff’s death would inevitably
+ensue.
+
+This criminal was of a feeble constitution, weakened by long
+imprisonment. Whoever has seen prisoners after having been flogged, will
+remember their thin, drawn-out features and their feverish looks. Orloff
+soon recovered his powerful energy, which enabled him to get over his
+physical weakness. He was no ordinary man. From curiosity I made his
+acquaintance, and was able to study him at leisure for an entire week.
+Never in my life did I meet a man whose will was more firm or
+inflexible.
+
+I had seen at Tobolsk a celebrity of the same kind--a former chief of
+brigands. This man was a veritable wild beast; by being near him,
+without even knowing him, it was impossible not to recognise in him a
+dangerous creature. What above all frightened me was his stupidity.
+Matter, in this man, had taken such an ascendant over mind, that one
+could see at a glance that he cared for nothing in the world but the
+brutal satisfaction of his physical wants. I was certain, however, that
+Kareneff--that was his name--would have fainted on being condemned to
+such rigorous corporal punishment as Orloff had undergone; and that he
+would have murdered the first man near him without blinking.
+
+Orloff, on the contrary, was a brilliant example of the victory of
+spirit over matter. He had a perfect command over himself. He despised
+punishment, and feared nothing in the world. His dominant characteristic
+was boundless energy, a thirst for vengeance, and an immovable will when
+he had some object to attain.
+
+I was not astonished at his haughty air. He looked down upon all around
+him from the height of his grandeur. Not that he took the trouble to
+pose; his pride was an innate quality. I don’t think that anything had
+the least influence over him. He looked upon everything with the calmest
+eye, as if nothing in the world could astonish him. He knew well that
+the other prisoners respected him; but he never took advantage of it to
+give himself airs.
+
+Nevertheless, vanity and conceit are defects from which scarcely any
+convict is exempt. He was intelligent and strangely frank in talking too
+much about himself. He replied point-blank to all the questions I put to
+him, and confessed to me that he was waiting impatiently for his return
+to health in order to take the remainder of the punishment he was to
+undergo.
+
+“Now,” he said to me with a wink, “it is all over. I shall have the
+remainder, and shall be sent to Nertchinsk with a convoy of prisoners. I
+shall profit by it to escape. I shall get away beyond doubt. If only my
+back would heal a little quicker!”
+
+For five days he was burning with impatience to be in a condition for
+leaving the hospital At times he was gay and in the best of humours. I
+profited by these rare occasions to question him about his adventures.
+
+Then he would contract his eyebrows a little; but he always answered my
+questions in a straightforward manner. When he understood that I was
+endeavouring to see through him, and to discover in him some trace of
+repentance, he looked at me with a haughty and contemptuous air, as if I
+were a foolish little boy, to whom he did too much honour by conversing
+with him.
+
+I detected in his countenance a sort of compassion for me. After a
+moment’s pause he laughed out loud, but without the least irony. I fancy
+he must, more than once, have laughed in the same manner, when my words
+returned to his memory. At last he wrote down his name as cured,
+although his back was not yet entirely healed. As I also was almost
+well, we left the infirmary together and returned to the convict prison,
+while he was shut up in the guard-room, where he had been imprisoned
+before. When he left me he shook me by the hand, which in his eyes was a
+great mark of confidence. I fancy he did so, because at that moment he
+was in a good humour. But in reality he must have despised me, for I was
+a feeble being, contemptible in all respects, and guilty above all of
+resignation. The next day he underwent the second half of his
+punishment.
+
+When the gates of the barracks had been closed, it assumed, in less than
+no time, quite another aspect--that of a private house, of quite a home.
+Then only did I see my convict comrades at their ease. During the day
+the under officers, or some of the other authorities, might suddenly
+arrive, so that the prisoners were then always on the look-out. They
+were only half at their ease. As soon, however, as the bolts had been
+pushed and the gates padlocked, every one sat down in his place and
+began to work. The barrack was lighted up in an unexpected manner. Each
+convict had his candle and his wooden candlestick. Some of them stitched
+boots, others sewed different kinds of garments. The air, already
+mephitic, became more and more impure.
+
+Some of the prisoners, huddled together in a corner, played at cards on
+a piece of carpet. In each barrack there was a prisoner who possessed a
+small piece of carpet, a candle, and a pack of horribly greasy cards.
+The owner of the cards received from the players fifteen kopecks [about
+sixpence] a night. They generally played at the “three leaves”--Gorka,
+that is to say: a game of chance. Each player placed before him a pile
+of copper money--all that he possessed--and did not get up until he had
+lost it or had broken the bank.
+
+Playing was continued until late at night; sometimes the dawn found the
+gamblers still at their game. Often, indeed, it did not cease until a
+few minutes before the opening of the gates. In our room--as in all the
+others--there were beggars ruined by drink and play, or rather beggars
+innate--I say innate, and maintain my expression. Indeed, in our
+country, and in all classes, there are, and always will be, strange
+easy-going people whose destiny it is to remain always beggars. They are
+poor devils all their lives; quite broken down, they remain under the
+domination or guardianship of some one, generally a prodigal, or a man
+who has suddenly made his fortune. All initiative is for them an
+insupportable burden. They only exist on condition of undertaking
+nothing for themselves, and by serving, always living under the will of
+another. They are destined to act by and through others. Under no
+circumstances, even of the most unexpected kind, can they get rich; they
+are always beggars. I have met these persons in all classes of society,
+in all coteries, in all associations, including the literary world.
+
+As soon as a party was made up, one of these beggars, quite
+indispensable to the game, was summoned. He received five kopecks for a
+whole night’s employment; and what employment it was! His duty was to
+keep guard in the vestibule, with thirty degrees (Réaumur) of frost, in
+total darkness, for six or seven hours. The man on watch had to listen
+for the slightest noise, for the Major or one of the other officers of
+the guard would sometimes make a round rather late in the night. They
+arrived secretly, and sometimes discovered the players and the watchers
+in the act--thanks to the light of the candles, which could be seen from
+the court-yard.
+
+When the key was heard grinding in the padlock which closed the gate, it
+was too late to put the lights out and lie down on the plank bedsteads.
+Such surprises were, however, rare. Five kopecks was a ridiculous
+payment even in our convict prison, and the exigency and hardness of the
+gamblers astonished me in this as in many cases: “You are paid, you must
+do what you are told.” This was the argument, and it admitted of no
+reply. To have paid a few kopecks to any one gave the right to turn him
+to the best possible account, and even to claim his gratitude. More than
+once it happened to me to see the convicts spend their money
+extravagantly, throwing it away on all sides, and, at the same time,
+cheat the man employed to watch. I have seen this in several barracks on
+many occasions.
+
+I have already said that, with the exception of the gamblers, every one
+worked. Five only of the convicts remained completely idle, and went to
+bed on the first opportunity. My sleeping place was near the door. Next
+to me was Akim Akimitch, and when we were lying down our heads touched.
+He used to work until ten or eleven at making, by pasting together
+pieces of paper, multicolour lanterns, which some one living in the town
+had ordered from him, and for which he used to be well paid. He excelled
+in this kind of work, and did it methodically and regularly. When he had
+finished he put away carefully his tools, unfolded his mattress, said
+his prayers, and went to sleep with the sleep of the just. He carried
+his love of order even to pedantry, and must have thought himself in his
+inner heart a man of brains, as is generally the case with narrow,
+mediocre persons. I did not like him the first day, although he gave me
+much to think of. I was astonished that such a man could be found in a
+convict prison. I shall speak of Akimitch further on in the course of
+this book.
+
+But I must now continue to describe the persons with whom I was to live
+a number of years. Those who surrounded me were to be my companions
+every minute, and it will be understood that I looked upon them with
+anxious curiosity.
+
+On my left slept a band of mountaineers from the Caucasus, nearly all
+exiled for brigandage, but condemned to different punishments. There
+were two Lesghians, a Circassian, and three Tartars from Daghestan. The
+Circassian was a morose and sombre person. He scarcely ever spoke, and
+looked at you sideways with a sly, sulky, wild-beast-like expression.
+One of the Lesghians, an old man with an aquiline nose, tall and thin,
+seemed to be a true brigand; but the other Lesghian, Nourra by name,
+made a most favourable impression upon me. Of middle height, still
+young, built like a Hercules, with fair hair and violet eyes; he had a
+slightly turned up nose, while his features were somewhat of a Finnish
+cast. Like all horsemen, he walked with his toes in. His body was
+striped with scars, ploughed by bayonet wounds and bullets. Although he
+belonged to the conquered part of the Caucasus, he had joined the
+rebels, with whom he used to make continual incursions into our
+territory. Every one liked him in the prison by reason of his gaiety and
+affability. He worked without murmuring, always calm and peaceful.
+Thieving, cheating, and drunkenness filled him with disgust, or put him
+in a rage--not that he wished to quarrel with any one; he simply turned
+away with indignation. During his confinement he committed no breach of
+the rules. Fervently pious, he said his prayers religiously every
+evening, observed all the Mohammedan fasts like a true fanatic, and
+passed whole nights in prayer. Every one liked him, and looked upon him
+as a thoroughly honest man. “Nourra is a lion,” said the convicts; and
+the name of “Lion” stuck to him. He was quite convinced that as soon as
+he had finished his sentence he would be sent to the Caucasus. Indeed,
+he only lived by this hope, and I believe he would have died had he been
+deprived of it. I noticed it the very day of my arrival. How was it
+possible not to distinguish this calm, honest face in the midst of so
+many sombre, sardonic, repulsive countenances!
+
+Before I had been half-an-hour in the prison, he passed by my side and
+touched me gently on the shoulder, smiling at the same time with an
+innocent air. I did not at first understand what he meant, for he spoke
+Russian very badly; but soon afterwards he passed again, and, with a
+friendly smile, again touched me on the shoulder. For three days running
+he repeated this strange proceeding. As I soon found out, he wanted to
+show me that he pitied me, and that he felt how painful the first moment
+of imprisonment must be. He wanted to testify his sympathy, to keep up
+my spirits, and to assure me of his good-will. Kind and innocent Nourra!
+
+Of the three Tartars from Daghestan, all brothers, the two eldest were
+well-developed men, while the youngest, Ali, was not more than
+twenty-two, and looked younger. He slept by my side, and when I observed
+his frank, intelligent countenance, thoroughly natural, I was at once
+attracted to him, and thanked my fate that I had him for a neighbour in
+place of some other prisoner. His whole soul could be read in his
+beaming countenance. His confident smile had a certain childish
+simplicity; his large black eyes expressed such friendliness, such
+tender feeling, that I always took a pleasure in looking at him. It was
+a relief to me in moments of sadness and anguish. One day his eldest
+brother--he had five, of whom two were working in the mines of
+Siberia--had ordered him to take his yataghan, to get on horseback, and
+follow him. The respect of the mountaineers for their elders is so great
+that young Ali did not dare to ask the object of the expedition. He
+probably knew nothing about it, nor did his brothers consider it
+necessary to tell him. They were going to plunder the caravan of a rich
+Armenian merchant, and they succeeded in their enterprise. They
+assassinated the merchant and stole his goods. Unhappily for them, their
+act of brigandage was discovered. They were tried, flogged, and then
+sent to hard labour in Siberia. The Court admitted no extenuating
+circumstances, except in the case of Ali. He was condemned to the
+minimum punishment--four years’ confinement. These brothers loved him,
+their affection being paternal rather than fraternal. He was the only
+consolation of their exile. Dull and sad as a rule, they had always a
+smile for him when they spoke to him, which they rarely did--for they
+looked upon him as a child to whom it would be useless to speak
+seriously--their forbidding countenances lightened up. I fancied they
+always spoke to him in a jocular tone, as to an infant. When he replied,
+the brothers exchanged glances, and smiled good-naturedly.
+
+He would not have dared to speak to them first by reason of his respect
+for them. How this young man preserved his tender heart, his native
+honesty, his frank cordiality without getting perverted and corrupted
+during his period of hard labour, is quite inexplicable. In spite of his
+gentleness, he had a strong stoical nature, as I afterwards saw. Chaste
+as a young girl, everything that was foul, cynical, shameful, or unjust
+filled his fine black eyes with indignation, and made them finer than
+ever. Without being a coward, he would allow himself to be insulted with
+impunity. He avoided quarrels and insults, and preserved all his
+dignity. With whom, indeed, was he to quarrel? Every one loved him,
+caressed him.
+
+At first he was only polite to me; but little by little we got into the
+habit of talking together in the evening, and in a few months he had
+learnt to speak Russian perfectly, whereas his brothers never gained a
+correct knowledge of the language. He was intelligent, and at the same
+time modest and full of delicate feeling.
+
+Ali was an exceptional being, and I always think of my meeting him as
+one of the lucky things in my life. There are some natures so
+spontaneously good and endowed by God with such great qualities that the
+idea of their getting perverted seems absurd. One is always at ease
+about them. Accordingly I had never any fears about Ali. Where is he
+now?
+
+One day, a considerable time after my arrival at the convict prison, I
+was stretched out on my camp-bedstead agitated by painful thoughts. Ali,
+always industrious, was not working at this moment. His time for going
+to bed had not arrived. The brothers were celebrating some Mussulman
+festival, and were not working. Ali was lying down with his head between
+his hands in a state of reverie. Suddenly he said to me:
+
+“Well, you are very sad!”
+
+I looked at him with curiosity. Such a remark from Ali, always so
+delicate, so full of tact, seemed strange. But I looked at him more
+attentively, and saw so much grief, so much repressed suffering in his
+countenance--of suffering caused no doubt by sudden recollections--that
+I understood in what pain he must be, and said so to him. He uttered a
+deep sigh, and smiled with a melancholy air. I always liked his
+graceful, agreeable smile. When he laughed, he showed two rows of teeth
+which the first beauty in the world would have envied him.
+
+“You were probably thinking, Ali, how this festival is celebrated in
+Daghestan. Ah, you were happy there!”
+
+“Yes,” he replied with enthusiasm, and his eyes sparkled. “How did you
+know I was thinking of such things?”
+
+“How was I not to know? You were much better off than you are here.”
+
+“Why do you say that?”
+
+“What beautiful flowers there are in your country! Is it not so? It is a
+true paradise.”
+
+“Be silent, please.”
+
+He was much agitated.
+
+“Listen, Ali. Had you a sister?”
+
+“Yes; why do you ask me?”
+
+“She must have been very beautiful if she is like you?”
+
+“Oh, there is no comparison to make between us. In all Daghestan no such
+beautiful girl is to be seen. My sister is, indeed, charming. I am sure
+that you have never seen any one like her. My mother also is very
+handsome.”
+
+“And your mother was fond of you?”
+
+“What are you saying? Certainly she was. I am sure that she has died of
+grief, she was so fond of me. I was her favourite child. Yes, she loved
+me more than my sister, more than all the others. This very night she
+has appeared to me in a dream, she shed tears for me.”
+
+He was silent, and throughout the rest of the night did not open his
+mouth; but from this very moment he sought my company and my
+conversation; although very respectful, he never allowed himself to
+address me first. On the other hand he was happy when I entered into
+conversation with him. He spoke often of the Caucasus, and of his past
+life. His brothers did not forbid him to converse with me; I think even
+that they encouraged him to do so. When they saw that I had formed an
+attachment to him, they became more affable towards me.
+
+Ali often helped me in my work. In the barrack he did whatever he
+thought would be agreeable to me, and would save me trouble. In his
+attentions to me there was neither servility nor the hope of any
+advantage, but only a warm, cordial feeling, which he did not try to
+hide. He had an extraordinary aptitude for the mechanical arts. He had
+learnt to sew very tolerably, and to mend boots; he even understood a
+little carpentering--everything in short that could be learnt at the
+convict prison. His brothers were proud of him.
+
+“Listen, Ali,” I said to him one day, “why don’t you learn to read and
+write the Russian language, it might be very useful to you here in
+Siberia?”
+
+“I should like to do so, but who would teach me?”
+
+“There are plenty of people here who can read and write. I myself will
+teach you if you like.”
+
+“Oh, do teach me, I beg of you,” said Ali, raising himself up in bed; he
+joined his hands and looked at me with a suppliant air.
+
+We went to work the very next evening. I had with me a Russian
+translation of the New Testament, the only book that was not forbidden
+in the prison. With this book alone, without an alphabet, Ali learnt to
+read in a few weeks, and after a few months he could read perfectly. He
+brought to his studies extraordinary zeal and warmth.
+
+One day we were reading together the Sermon on the Mount. I noticed that
+he read certain passages with much feeling; and I asked him if he was
+pleased with what he read. He glanced at me, and his face suddenly
+lighted up.
+
+“Yes, yes, Jesus is a holy prophet. He speaks the language of God. How
+beautiful it is!”
+
+“But tell me what it is that particularly pleases you.”
+
+“The passage in which it is said, ‘Forgive those that hate you!’ Ah! how
+divinely He speaks!”
+
+He turned towards his brothers, who were listening to our conversation,
+and said to them with warmth a few words. They talked together seriously
+for some time, giving their approval of what their young brother had
+said by a nodding of the head. Then with a grave, kindly smile, quite a
+Mussulman smile (I liked the gravity of this smile), they assured me
+that Isu [Jesus] was a great prophet. He had done great miracles. He had
+created a bird with a little clay on which he breathed the breath of
+life, and the bird had then flown away. That, they said, was written in
+their books. They were convinced that they would please me much by
+praising Jesus. As for Ali, he was happy to see that his brothers
+approved of our friendship, and that they were giving me, what he
+thought would be, grateful words. The success I had with my pupil in
+teaching him to write, was really extraordinary. Ali had bought paper at
+his own expense, for he would not allow me to purchase any, also pens
+and ink; and in less than two months he had learnt to write. His
+brothers were astonished at such rapid progress. Their satisfaction and
+their pride were without bounds. They did not know how to show me enough
+gratitude. At the workshop, if we happened to be together, there were
+disputes as to which of them should help me. I do not speak of Ali, he
+felt for me more affection than even for his brothers. I shall never
+forget the day on which he was liberated. He went with me outside the
+barracks, threw himself on my neck and sobbed. He had never embraced me
+before, and had never before wept in my presence.
+
+“You have done so much for me,” he said; “neither my father nor my
+mother have ever been kinder. You have made a man of me. God will bless
+you, I shall never forget you, never!”
+
+Where is he now, where is my good, kind, dear Ali?
+
+Besides the Circassians, we had a certain number of Poles, who formed a
+separate group. They had scarcely any relations with the other convicts.
+I have already said that, thanks to their hatred for the Russian
+prisoners, they were detested by every one. They were of a restless,
+morbid disposition: there were six of them, some of them men of
+education, of whom I shall speak in detail further on. It was from them
+that during the last days of my imprisonment I obtained a few books. The
+first work I read made a deep impression upon me. I shall speak further
+on of these sensations, which I look upon as very curious, though it
+will be difficult to understand them. Of this I am certain, for there
+are certain things as to which one cannot judge without having
+experienced them oneself. It will be enough for me to say that
+intellectual privations are more difficult to support than the most
+frightful, physical tortures.
+
+A common man sent to hard labour finds himself in kindred society,
+perhaps even in a more interesting society than he has been accustomed
+to. He loses his native place, his family; but his ordinary surroundings
+are much the same as before. A man of education, condemned by law to the
+same punishment as the common man, suffers incomparably more. He must
+stifle all his needs, all his habits, he must descend into a lower
+sphere, must breathe another air. He is like a fish thrown upon the
+sand. The punishment that he undergoes, equal for all criminals
+according to the law, is ten times more severe and more painful for him
+than for the common man. This is an incontestable truth, even if one
+thinks only of the material habits that have to be sacrificed.
+
+I was saying that the Poles formed a group by themselves. They lived
+together, and of all the convicts in the prison, they cared only for a
+Jew, and for no other reason than because he amused them. Our Jew was
+generally liked, although every one laughed at him. We only had one, and
+even now I cannot think of him without laughing. Whenever I looked at
+him I thought of the Jew Jankel, whom Gogol describes in his Tarass
+Boulba, and who, when undressed and ready to go to bed with his Jewess
+in a sort of cupboard, resembled a fowl; but Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein and
+a plucked fowl were as like one another as two drops of water. He was
+already of a certain age--about fifty--small, feeble, cunning, and, at
+the same time, very stupid, bold, and boastful, though a horrible
+coward. His face was covered with wrinkles, his forehead and cheeks were
+scarred from the burning he had received in the pillory. I never
+understood how he had been able to support the sixty strokes he
+received.
+
+He had been sentenced for murder. He carried on his person a medical
+prescription which had been given to him by other Jews immediately after
+his exposure in the pillory. Thanks to the ointment prescribed, the
+scars were to disappear in less than a fortnight. He had been afraid to
+use it. He was waiting for the expiration of his twenty years (after
+which he would become a colonist) in order to utilise his famous remedy.
+
+“Otherwise I shall not be able to get married,” he would say; “and I
+must absolutely marry.”
+
+We were great friends: his good-humour was inexhaustible. The life of
+the convict prison did not seem to disagree with him. A goldsmith by
+trade, he received more orders than he could execute, for there was no
+jeweller’s shop in our town. He thus escaped his hard labour. As a
+matter of course, he lent money on pledges to the convicts, who paid him
+heavy interest. He arrived at the prison before I did. One of the Poles
+related to me his triumphal entry. It is quite a history, which I shall
+relate further on, for I shall often have to speak of Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein.
+
+As for the other prisoners there were, first of all, four “old
+believers,” among whom was the old man from Starodoub, two or three
+Little Russians, very morose persons, and a young convict with delicate
+features and a finely-chiselled nose, about twenty-three years of age,
+who had already committed eight murders; besides a band of coiners, one
+of whom was the buffoon of our barracks; and, finally, some sombre,
+sour-tempered convicts, shorn and disfigured, always silent, and full of
+envy. They looked askance at all who came near them, and must have
+continued to do so during a long course of years. I saw all this
+superficially on the first night of my arrival, in the midst of thick
+smoke, in a mephitic atmosphere, amid obscene oaths, accompanied by the
+rattling of chains, by insults, and cynical laughter. I stretched
+myself out on the bare planks, my head resting on my coat, rolled up to
+do duty in lieu of a pillow, not yet supplied to me. Then I covered
+myself with my sheepskin, but, thanks to the painful impression of this
+evening, I was unable for some time to get to sleep. My new life was
+only just beginning. The future reserved for me many things which I had
+not foreseen, and of which I had never the least idea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE FIRST MONTH
+
+
+Three days after my arrival I was ordered to go to work. The impression
+left upon me to this day is still very clear, although there was nothing
+very striking in it, unless one considers that my position was in itself
+extraordinary. The first sensations count for a good deal, and I as yet
+looked upon everything with curiosity. My first three days were
+certainly the most painful of all my terms of imprisonment.
+
+My wandering is at an end, I said to myself every moment. I am now in
+the convict prison, my resting-place for many years. Here is where I am
+to live. I come here full of grief, who knows that when I leave it I
+shall not do so with regret? I said this to myself as one touches a
+wound, the better to feel its pain. The idea that I might regret my stay
+was terrible to me. Already I felt to what an intolerable degree man is
+a creature of habit, but this was a matter of the future. The present,
+meanwhile, was terrible enough.
+
+The wild curiosity with which my convict companions examined me, their
+harshness towards a former nobleman now entering into their corporation,
+a harshness which sometimes took the form of hatred--all this tormented
+me to such a degree that I felt obliged of my own accord to go to work
+in order to measure at one stroke the whole extent of my misfortune,
+that I might at once begin to live like the others, and fall with them
+into the same abyss.
+
+But convicts differ, and I had not yet disentangled from the general
+hostility the sympathy here and there manifested towards me.
+
+After a time the affability and good-will shown to me by certain
+convicts gave me a little courage, and restored my spirits. Most
+friendly among them was Akim Akimitch. I soon noticed some kind,
+good-natured faces in the dark and hateful crowd. Bad people are to be
+found everywhere, but even among the worst there may be something good,
+I began to think, by way of consolation. Who knows? These persons are
+perhaps not worse than others who are free. While making these
+reflections I felt some doubts, and, nevertheless, how much I was in the
+right!
+
+The convict Suchiloff, for example; a man whose acquaintance I did not
+make until long afterwards, although he was near me during nearly the
+whole period of my confinement. Whenever I speak of the convicts who are
+not worse than other men, my thoughts turn involuntarily to him. He
+acted as my servant, together with another prisoner named Osip, whom
+Akim Akimitch had recommended to me immediately after my arrival. For
+thirty kopecks a month this man agreed to cook me a separate dinner, in
+case I should not be able to put up with the ordinary prison fare, and
+should be able to pay for my own food. Osip was one of the four cooks
+chosen by the prisoners in our two kitchens. I may observe that they
+were at liberty to refuse these duties, and give them up whenever they
+might think fit. The cooks were men from whom hard labour was not
+expected. They had to bake bread and prepare the cabbage soup. They were
+called “cook-maids,” not from contempt, for the men chosen were always
+the most intelligent, but merely in fun. The name given to them did not
+annoy them.
+
+For many years past Osip had been constantly selected as “cook-maid.” He
+never refused the duty except when he was out of sorts, or when he saw
+an opportunity of getting spirits into the barracks. Although he had
+been sent to the convict prison as a smuggler, he was remarkably honest
+and good-tempered (I have spoken of him before); at the same time he was
+a dreadful coward, and feared the rod above all things. Of a peaceful,
+patient disposition, affable with everybody, he never got into quarrels;
+but he could never resist the temptation of bringing spirits in,
+notwithstanding his cowardice, and simply from his love of smuggling.
+Like all the other cooks he dealt in spirits, but on a much less
+extensive scale than Gazin, because he was afraid of running the same
+risks. I always lived on good terms with Osip. To have a separate table
+it was not necessary to be very rich; it cost me only one rouble a month
+apart from the bread, which was given to us. Sometimes when I was very
+hungry I made up my mind to eat the cabbage soup, in spite of the
+disgust with which it generally filled me. After a time this disgust
+entirely disappeared. I generally bought one pound of meat a day, which
+cost me two kopecks--[5 kopecks = 2 pence.]
+
+The old soldiers, who watched over the internal discipline of the
+barracks, were ready, good-naturedly, to go every day to the market to
+make purchases for the convicts. For this they received no pay, except
+from time to time a trifling present. They did it for the sake of their
+peace; their life in the convict prison would have been a perpetual
+torment had they refused. They used to bring in tobacco, tea,
+meat--everything, in short, that was desired, always excepting spirits.
+
+For many years Osip prepared for me every day a piece of roast meat. How
+he managed to get it cooked was a secret. What was strangest in the
+matter was, that during all this time I scarcely exchanged two words
+with him. I tried many times to make him talk, but he was incapable of
+keeping up a conversation. He would only smile and answer my questions
+by “yes” or “no.” He was a Hercules, but he had no more intelligence
+than a child of seven.
+
+Suchiloff was also one of those who helped me. I had never asked him to
+do so, he attached himself to me on his own account, and I scarcely
+remember when he began to do so. His principal duty consisted in washing
+my linen. For this purpose there was a basin in the middle of the
+court-yard, round which the convicts washed their clothes in prison
+buckets.
+
+Suchiloff had found means for rendering me a number of little services.
+He boiled my tea-urn, ran right and left to perform various commissions
+for me, got me all kinds of things, mended my clothes, and greased my
+boots four times a month. He did all this in a zealous manner, with a
+business-like air, as if he felt all the weight of the duties he was
+performing. He seemed quite to have joined his fate to mine, and
+occupied himself with all my affairs. He never said: “You have so many
+shirts, or your waistcoat is torn;” but, “We have so many shirts, and
+our waistcoat is torn.” I had somehow inspired him with admiration, and
+I really believe that I had become his sole care in life. As he knew no
+trade whatever his only source of income was from me, and it must be
+understood that I paid him very little; but he was always pleased,
+whatever he might receive. He would have been without means had he not
+been a servant of mine, and he gave me the preference because I was more
+affable than the others, and, above all, more equitable in money
+matters. He was one of those beings who never get rich, and never know
+how to manage their affairs; one of those in the prison who were hired
+by the gamblers to watch all night in the ante-chamber, listening for
+the least noise that might announce the arrival of the Major. If there
+was a night visit they received nothing, indeed their back paid for
+their want of attention. One thing which marks this kind of men is their
+entire absence of individuality, which they seem entirely to have lost.
+
+Suchiloff was a poor, meek fellow; all the courage seemed to have been
+beaten out of him, although he had in reality been born meek. For
+nothing in the world would he have raised his hand against any one in
+the prison. I always pitied him without knowing why. I could not look at
+him without feeling the deepest compassion for him. If asked to explain
+this, I should find it impossible to do so. I could never get him to
+talk, and he never became animated, except when, to put an end to all
+attempts at conversation, I gave him something to do, or told him to go
+somewhere for me. I soon found that he loved to be ordered about.
+Neither tall nor short, neither ugly nor handsome, neither stupid nor
+intelligent, neither old nor young, it would be difficult to describe in
+any definite manner this man, except that his face was slightly pitted
+with the small-pox, and that he had fair hair. He belonged, as far as I
+could make out, to the same company as Sirotkin. The prisoners sometimes
+laughed at him because he had “exchanged.” During the march to Siberia
+he had exchanged for a red shirt and a silver rouble. It was thought
+comical that he should have sold himself for such a small sum, to take
+the name of another prisoner in place of his own, and consequently to
+accept the other’s sentence. Strange as it may appear it was
+nevertheless true. This custom, which had become traditional, and still
+existed at the time I was sent to Siberia, I, at first, refused to
+believe, but found afterwards that it really existed. This is how the
+exchange was effected:
+
+A company of prisoners started for Siberia. Among them there are exiles
+of all kinds, some condemned to hard labour, others to labour in the
+mines, others to simple colonisation. On the way out, no matter at what
+stage of the journey, in the Government of Perm, for instance, a
+prisoner wishes to exchange with another man, who--we will say he is
+named Mikhailoff--has been condemned to hard labour for a capital
+offence, and does not like the prospect of passing long years without
+his liberty. He knows, in his cunning, what to do. He looks among his
+comrades for some simple, weak-minded fellow, whose punishment is less
+severe, who has been condemned to a few years in the mines, or to hard
+labour, or has perhaps been simply exiled. At last he finds such a man
+as Suchiloff, a former serf, sentenced only to become a colonist. The
+man has made fifteen hundred versts [about one thousand miles] without a
+kopeck, for the good reason that a Suchiloff is always without money;
+fatigued, exhausted, he can get nothing to eat beyond the fixed rations,
+nothing to wear in addition to the convict uniform.
+
+Mikhailoff gets into conversation with Suchiloff, they suit one another,
+and they strike up a friendship. At last at some station Mikhailoff
+makes his comrade drunk, then he will ask him if he will “exchange.”
+
+“My name is Mikhailoff,” he says to him, “condemned to what is called
+hard labour, but which, in my own case, will be nothing of the kind, as
+I am to enter a particular special section. I am classed with the
+hard-labour men, but in my special division the labour is not so
+severe.”
+
+Before the special section was abolished, many persons in the official
+world, even at St. Petersburg, were unaware even of its existence. It
+was in such a retired corner of one of the most distant regions of
+Siberia, that it was difficult to know anything about it. It was
+insignificant, moreover, from the number of persons belonging to it. In
+my time they numbered altogether only seventy. I have since met men who
+have served in Siberia, and know the country well, and yet have never
+heard of the “special section.” In the rules and regulations there are
+only six lines about this institution. Attached to the convict prison of
+---- is a special section reserved for the most dangerous criminals,
+while the severest labours are being prepared for them. The prisoners
+themselves knew nothing of this special section. Did it exist
+temporarily or constantly? Neither Suchiloff nor any of the prisoners
+being sent out, not Mikhailoff himself could guess the significance of
+those two words. Mikhailoff, however, had his suspicion as to the true
+character of this section. He formed his opinion from the gravity of the
+crime for which he was made to march three or four thousand versts on
+foot. It was certain that he was not being sent to a place where he
+would be at his ease. Suchiloff was to be a colonist. What could
+Mikhailoff desire better than that?
+
+“Won’t you change?” he asks. Suchiloff is a little drunk, he is a
+simple-minded man, full of gratitude to the comrade who entertains him,
+and dare not refuse; he has heard, moreover, from other prisoners, that
+these exchanges are made, and understands, therefore, that there is
+nothing extraordinary, unheard-of, in the proposition made to him. An
+agreement is come to, the cunning Mikhailoff, profiting by Suchiloff’s
+simplicity, buys his name for a red shirt, and a silver rouble, which
+are given before witnesses. The next day Suchiloff is sober; but more
+liquor is given to him. Then he drinks up his own rouble, and after a
+while the red shirt has the same fate.
+
+“If you don’t like the bargain we made, give me back my money,” says
+Mikhailoff. But where is Suchiloff to get a rouble? If he does not give
+it back, the “artel” [_i.e._, the association--in this case of convicts]
+will force him to keep his promise. The prisoners are very sensitive on
+such points: he must keep his promise. The “artel” requires it, and, in
+case of disobedience, woe to the offender! He will be killed, or at
+least seriously intimidated. If indeed the “artel” once showed mercy to
+the men who had broken their word, there would be an end to its
+existence. If the given word can be recalled, and the bargain put an end
+to after the stipulated sum has been paid, who would be bound by such an
+agreement? It is a question of life or death for the “artel.”
+Accordingly the prisoners are very severe on the point.
+
+Suchiloff then finds that it is impossible to go back, that nothing can
+save him, and he accordingly agrees to all that is demanded of him. The
+bargain is then made known to all the convoy, and if denunciations are
+feared, the men looked upon as suspicious are entertained. What,
+moreover, does it matter to the others whether Mikhailoff or Suchiloff
+goes to the devil? They have had gratuitous drinks, they have been
+feasted for nothing, and the secret is kept by all.
+
+At the next station the names are called. When Mikhailoff’s turn
+arrives, Suchiloff answers “present,” Mikhailoff replies “present” for
+Suchiloff, and the journey is continued. The matter is not now even
+talked about. At Tobolsk the prisoners are told off. Mikhailoff will
+become a colonist, while Suchiloff is sent to the special section under
+a double escort. It would be useless now to cry out, to protest, for
+what proof could be given? How many years would it take to decide the
+affair, what benefit would the complainant derive? Where, moreover, are
+the witnesses? They would deny everything, even if they could be found.
+
+That is how Suchiloff, for a silver rouble and a red shirt, came to be
+sent to the special section. The prisoners laughed at him, not because
+he had exchanged--though in general they despised those who had been
+foolish enough to exchange a work that was easy for a work that was
+hard--but simply because he had received nothing for the bargain except
+a red shirt and a rouble--certainly a ridiculous compensation.
+
+Generally speaking, the exchanges are made for relatively large sums;
+several ten-rouble notes sometimes change hands. But Suchiloff was so
+characterless, so insignificant, so null, that he could scarcely even be
+laughed at. We lived a considerable time together, he and I; I had got
+accustomed to him, and he had formed an attachment for me. One day,
+however--I can never forgive myself for what I did--he had not executed
+my orders, and when he came to ask me for his money I had the cruelty to
+say to him, “You don’t forget to ask for your money, but you don’t do
+what you are told.” Suchiloff remained silent and hastened to do as he
+was ordered, but he suddenly became very sad. Two days passed. I could
+not believe that what I had said to him could affect him so much. I knew
+that a person named Vassilieff was claiming from him in a morose manner
+payment of a small debt. Suchiloff was probably short of money, and did
+not dare to ask me for any.
+
+“Suchiloff, you wish, I think, to ask me for some money to pay
+Vassilieff; take this.”
+
+I was seated on my camp-bedstead. Suchiloff remained standing up before
+me, much astonished that I myself should propose to give him money, and
+that I remembered his difficult position; the more so as latterly he had
+asked me several times for money in advance, and could scarcely hope
+that I should give him any more. He looked at the paper I held out to
+him, then looked at me, turned sharply on his heel and went out. I was
+as astonished as I could be. I went out after him, and found him at the
+back of the barracks. He was standing up with his face against the
+palisade and his arms resting on the stakes.
+
+“What is the matter, Suchiloff?” I asked him.
+
+He made no reply, and to my stupefaction I saw that he was on the point
+of bursting into tears.
+
+“You think, Alexander Petrovitch,” he said, in a trembling voice, in
+endeavouring not to look at me, “that I care only for your money, but
+I----”
+
+He turned away from me, and struck the palisade with his forehead and
+began to sob. It was the first time in the convict prison that I had
+seen a man weep. I had much trouble in consoling him; and he afterwards
+served me, if possible, with more zeal than ever. He watched for my
+orders, but by almost imperceptible indications I could see that his
+heart would never forgive me for my reproach. Meanwhile other men
+laughed at him and teased him whenever the opportunity presented itself,
+and even insulted him without his losing his temper; on the contrary, he
+still remained on good terms with them. It is indeed difficult to know a
+man, even after having lived long years with him.
+
+The convict prison had not at first for me the significance it was
+afterwards to assume. I was at first, in spite of my attention, unable
+to understand many facts which were staring me in the face. I was
+naturally first struck by the most salient points, but I saw them from a
+false point of view, and the only impression they made upon me was one
+of unmitigated sadness. What contributed above all to this result was my
+meeting with A----f, the convict who had come to the prison before me,
+and who had astonished me in such a painful manner during the first few
+days. The effect of his baseness was to aggravate my moral suffering,
+already sufficiently cruel. He offered the most repulsive example of the
+kind of degradation and baseness to which a man may fall when all
+feeling of honour has perished within him. This young man of noble
+birth--I have spoken of him before--used to repeat to the Major all that
+was done in the barracks, and in doing so through the Major’s
+body-servant Fedka. Here is the man’s history.
+
+Arrived at St. Petersburg before he had finished his studies, after a
+quarrel with his parents, whom his life of debauchery had terrified, he
+had not shrunk for the sake of money from doing the work of an informer.
+He did not hesitate to sell the blood of ten men in order to satisfy his
+insatiable thirst for the grossest and most licentious pleasures. At
+last he became so completely perverted in the St. Petersburg taverns and
+houses of ill-fame, that he did not hesitate to take part in an affair
+which he knew to be conceived in madness--for he was not without
+intelligence. He was condemned to exile and ten years’ hard labour in
+Siberia. One might have thought that such a frightful blow would have
+shocked him, that it would have caused some reaction and brought about a
+crisis; but he accepted his new fate without the least confusion. It did
+not frighten him; all that he feared in it was the necessity of working,
+and of giving up for ever his habits of debauchery. The name of convict
+had no effect but to prepare him for new acts of baseness, and more
+hideous villainies than any he had previously perpetrated.
+
+“I am now a convict, and can crawl at ease, without shame.”
+
+That was the light in which he looked upon his new position. I think of
+this disgusting creature as of some monstrous phenomenon. During the
+many years I have lived in the midst of murderers, debauchees, and
+proved rascals, never in my life did I meet a case of such complete
+moral abasement, determined corruption, and shameless baseness. Among us
+there was a parricide of noble birth. I have already spoken of him; but
+I could see by several signs that he was much better and more humane
+than A----f. During the whole time of my punishment, he was never
+anything more in my eyes than a piece of flesh furnished with teeth and
+a stomach, greedy for the most offensive and ferocious animal
+enjoyments, for the satisfaction of which he was ready to assassinate
+anyone. I do not exaggerate in the least; I recognised in A----f one of
+the most perfect specimens of animality, restrained by no principles, no
+rule. How much I was disgusted by his eternal smile! He was a monster--a
+moral Quasimodo. He was at the same time intelligent, cunning,
+good-looking, had received some education, and possessed a certain
+capacity. Fire, plague, famine, no matter what scourge, is preferable to
+the presence of such a man in human society. I have already said that in
+the convict prison espionage and denunciation flourished as the natural
+product of degradation, without the convicts thinking much of it. On the
+contrary, they maintained friendly relations with A----f. They were more
+affable with him than with any one else. The kindly attitude towards him
+of our drunken friend, the Major, gave him a certain importance, and
+even a certain worth in the eyes of the convicts. Later on, this
+cowardly wretch ran away with another convict and the soldier in charge
+of them; but of this I shall speak in proper time and place. At first,
+he hung about me, thinking I did not know his history. I repeat that he
+poisoned the first days of my imprisonment so as to drive me nearly to
+despair. I was terrified by the mass of baseness and cowardice in the
+midst of which I had been thrown. I imagined that every one else was as
+foul and cowardly as he. But I made a mistake in supposing that every
+one resembled A----f.
+
+During the first three days I did nothing but wander about the convict
+prison, when I did not remain stretched out on my camp-bedstead. I
+entrusted to a prisoner of whom I was sure, the piece of linen which had
+been delivered to me by the administration, in order that he might make
+me some shirts. Always on the advice of Akim Akimitch, I got myself a
+folding mattress. It was in felt, covered with linen, as thin as a
+pancake, and very hard to any one who was not accustomed to it. Akim
+Akimitch promised to get me all the most essential things, and with his
+own hands made me a blanket out of a piece of old cloth, cut and sewn
+together from all the old trousers and waistcoats which I had bought
+from various prisoners. The clothes delivered to them, when they have
+been worn the regulation time, become the property of the prisoners.
+They at once sell them, for however much worn an article of clothing may
+be, it always possesses a certain value. I was very much astonished by
+all this, above all at the outset, during my first relations with this
+world. I became as low as my companions, as much a convict as they.
+Their customs, their habits, their ideas influenced me thoroughly, and
+externally became my own, without affecting my inner self. I was
+astonished and confused as though I had never heard or suspected
+anything of the kind before, and yet I knew what to expect, or at least
+what had been told me. The thing itself, however, produced on me a
+different impression from the mere description of it. How could I
+suppose, for instance, that old rags possessed still some value? And,
+nevertheless, my blanket was made up entirely of tatters. It would be
+difficult to describe the cloth out of which the clothes of the convicts
+were made. It was like the thick, gray cloth manufactured for the
+soldiers, but as soon as it had been worn some little time it showed the
+threads and tore with abominable ease. The uniform ought to have lasted
+for a whole year, but it never went so long as that. The prisoner
+labours, carries heavy burdens, and the cloth naturally wears out, and
+gets into holes very quickly. Our sheepskins were intended to be worn
+for three years. During the whole of that time they served as outer
+garments, blankets, and pillows, but they were very solid. Nevertheless,
+at the end of the third year, it was not rare to see them mended with
+ordinary linen. Although they were now very much worn, it was always
+possible to sell them at the rate of forty kopecks a piece, the best
+preserved ones even at the price of sixty kopecks, which was a great sum
+for the convict prison.
+
+Money, as I have before said, has a sovereign value in such a place. It
+is certain that a prisoner who has some pecuniary resources suffers ten
+times less than the one who has nothing.
+
+“When the Government supplies all the wants of the convict, what need
+can he have for money?” reasoned our chief.
+
+Nevertheless, I repeat that if the prisoners had been deprived of the
+opportunity of possessing something of their own, they would have lost
+their reason, or would have died like flies. They would have committed
+unheard-of crimes; some from wearisomeness or grief, the others, in
+order to get sooner punished, and, according to their expression, “have
+a change.” If the convict who has gained some kopecks by the sweat of
+his brow, who has embarked in perilous undertakings in order to conquer
+them, if he spends this money recklessly, with childish stupidity, that
+does not the least in the world prove that he does not know its value,
+as might at first sight be thought. The convict is greedy for money, to
+the point of losing his reason, and, if he throws it away, he does so in
+order to procure what he places far above money--liberty, or at least a
+semblance of liberty.
+
+Convicts are great dreamers; I will speak of that further on with more
+detail. At present I will confine myself to saying that I have heard
+men, who had been condemned to twenty years’ hard labour, say, with a
+quiet air, “when I have finished my time, if God wishes, then----” The
+very words hard labour, or forced labour, indicate that the man has lost
+his freedom; and when this man spends his money he is carrying out his
+own will.
+
+In spite of the branding and the chains, in spite of the palisade which
+hides from his eyes the free world, and encloses him in a cage like a
+wild beast, he can get himself spirits and other delights; sometimes
+even (not always), corrupt his immediate superintendents, the old
+soldiers and non-commissioned officers, and get them to close their eyes
+to his infractions of discipline within the prison. He can,
+moreover--what he adores--swagger; that is to say, impress his
+companions and persuade himself for a time, that he enjoys more liberty
+than he really possesses. The poor devil wishes, in a word, to convince
+himself of what he knows to be impossible. This is why the prisoners
+take such pleasure in boasting and exaggerating in burlesque fashion
+their own unhappy personality.
+
+Finally, they run some risk when they give themselves up to this
+boasting; in which again they find a semblance of life and liberty--the
+only thing they care for. Would not a millionaire with a rope round his
+neck give all his millions for one breath of air? A prisoner has lived
+quietly for several years in succession, his conduct has been so
+exemplary that he has been rewarded by special exemptions. Suddenly, to
+the great astonishment of his chiefs, this man becomes mutinous, plays
+the very devil, and does not recoil from a capital crime such as
+assassination, violation, etc. Every one is astounded at the cause of
+this unexpected explosion on the part of a man thought incapable of such
+a thing. It is the convulsive manifestation of his personality, an
+instinctive melancholia, an uncontrollable desire for self-assertion,
+all of which obscures his reason. It is a sort of epileptic attack, a
+spasm. A man buried alive who suddenly wakes up must strike in a similar
+manner against the lid of his coffin. He tries to rise up, to push it
+from him, although his reason must convince him of the uselessness of
+his efforts.
+
+Reason, however, has nothing to do with this convulsion. It must not be
+forgotten that almost every voluntary manifestation on the part of a
+convict is looked upon as a crime. Accordingly, it is a perfect matter
+of indifference to them whether this manifestation be important or
+insignificant, debauch for debauch, danger for danger. It is just as
+well to go to the end, even as far as a murder. The only difficulty is
+the first step. Little by little the man becomes excited, intoxicated,
+and can no longer contain himself. For that reason it would be better
+not to drive him to extremities. Everybody would be much better for it.
+
+But how can this be managed?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE FIRST MONTH (_continued_)
+
+
+When I entered the convict prison I possessed a small sum of money; but
+I carried very little of it about with me, lest it should be
+confiscated. I had gummed some banknotes into the binding of my New
+Testament--the only book authorised in the convict prison. This New
+Testament had been given to me at Tobolsk, by a person who had been
+exiled some dozens of years, and who had got accustomed to see in other
+“unfortunates” a brother.
+
+There are in Siberia people who pass their lives in giving brotherly
+assistance to the “unfortunates.” They feel the same sympathy for them
+that they would have for their own children. Their compassion is
+something sacred and quite disinterested. I cannot help here relating in
+some words a meeting which I had at this time.
+
+In the town where we were then imprisoned lived a widow, Nastasia
+Ivanovna. Naturally, none of us were in direct relations with this
+woman. She had made it the object of her life to come to the assistance
+of all the exiles; but, above all, of us convicts. Had there been some
+misfortune in her family? Had some person dear to her undergone a
+punishment similar to ours? I do not know. In any case, she did for us
+whatever she could. It is true she could do very little, for she was
+very poor. But we felt when we were shut up in the convict prison that,
+outside, we had a devoted friend. She often brought us news, which we
+were very glad to hear, for nothing of the kind reached us.
+
+When I left the prison to be taken to another town, I had the
+opportunity of calling upon her and making her acquaintance. She lived
+in one of the suburbs, at the house of a near relation.
+
+Nastasia Ivanovna was neither old nor young, neither pretty nor ugly. It
+was difficult, impossible even, to know whether she was intelligent and
+well-bred. But in her actions could be seen infinite compassion, an
+irresistible desire to please, to solace, to be in some way agreeable.
+All this could be read in the sweetness of her smile.
+
+I passed an entire evening at her house, with other companions of my
+imprisonment. She looked us straight in the face, laughed when we
+laughed, did everything we asked her, in conversation was always of our
+opinion, and did her best in every way to entertain us. She gave us tea
+and various little delicacies. If she had been rich we felt sure she
+would have been pleased, if only to be able to entertain us better and
+offer for us some solid consolation.
+
+When we wished her “good-bye,” she gave us each a present of a cardboard
+cigar-case as a souvenir. She had made them herself--Heaven knows
+how--with coloured paper, the paper with which school-boys’ copy-books
+are covered. All round this cardboard cigar-case she had gummed, by way
+of ornamentation, a thin edge of gilt paper.
+
+“As you smoke, these cigar-cases will perhaps be of use to you,” she
+said, as if excusing herself for making such a present.
+
+There are people who say, as I have read and heard, that a great love
+for one’s neighbour is only a form of selfishness. What selfishness
+could there be in this? That I could never understand.
+
+Although I had not much money when I entered the convict prison, I could
+not nevertheless feel seriously annoyed with convicts who, immediately
+on my arrival, after having deceived me once, came to borrow of me a
+second, a third time, and even oftener. But I admitted frankly that what
+did annoy me was the thought that all these people, with their smiling
+knavery, must take me for a fool, and laugh at me just because I lent
+the money for the fifth time. It must have seemed to them that I was the
+dupe of their tricks and their deceit. If, on the contrary, I had
+refused them and sent them away, I am certain that they would have had
+much more respect for me. Still, though it vexed me very much, I could
+not refuse them.
+
+I was rather anxious during the first days to know what footing I should
+hold in the convict prison, and what rule of conduct I should follow
+with my companions. I felt and perfectly understood that the place being
+in every way new to me, I was walking in darkness, and it would be
+impossible for me to live for ten years in darkness. I decided to act
+frankly, according to the dictates of my conscience and my personal
+feeling. But I also knew that this decision might be very well in
+theory, and that I should, in practice, be governed by unforeseen
+events. Accordingly, in addition to all the petty annoyances caused to
+me by my confinement in the convict prison, one terrible anguish laid
+hold of me and tormented me more and more.
+
+“The dead-house!” I said to myself when night fell, and I looked from
+the threshold of our barracks at the prisoners just returned from their
+labours and walking about in the court-yard, from the kitchen to the
+barracks, and _vice versâ_. As I examined their movements and their
+physiognomies I endeavoured to guess what sort of men they were, and
+what their disposition might be.
+
+They lounged about in front of me, some with lowered brows, others full
+of gaiety--one of these expressions was seen on every convict’s
+face--exchanged insults or talked on indifferent matters. Sometimes,
+too, they wandered about in solitude, occupied apparently with their own
+reflections; some of them with a worn-out, pathetic look, others with a
+conceited air of superiority. Yes, here, even here!--their cap balanced
+on the side of their head, their sheepskin coat picturesquely over the
+shoulder, insolence in their eyes and mockery on their lips.
+
+“Here is the world to which I am condemned, in which, in spite of
+myself, I must somehow live,” I said to myself.
+
+I endeavoured to question Akim Akimitch, with whom I liked to take my
+tea, in order not to be alone, for I wanted to know something about the
+different convicts. In parenthesis I must say that the tea, at the
+beginning of my imprisonment, was almost my only food. Akim Akimitch
+never refused to take tea with me, and he himself heated our tin
+tea-urns, made in the convict prison and let out to me by M----.
+
+Akim Akimitch generally drank a glass of tea (he had glasses of his own)
+calmly and silently, then thanked me when he had finished, and at once
+went to work on my blanket; but he had not been able to tell me what I
+wanted to know, and did not even understand my desire to know the
+dispositions of the people surrounding me. He listened to me with a
+cunning smile which I have still before my eyes. No, I thought, I must
+find out for myself; it is useless to interrogate others.
+
+The fourth day, the convicts were drawn up in two ranks, early in the
+morning, in the court-yard before the guard-house, close to the prison
+gates. Before and behind them were soldiers with loaded muskets and
+fixed bayonets.
+
+The soldier has the right to fire on the convict if he tries to escape.
+But, on the other hand, he is answerable for his shot, if there was no
+absolute necessity for him to fire. The same thing applies to revolts.
+But who would think of openly taking to flight?
+
+The Engineer officer arrived accompanied by the so-called “conductor”
+and by some non-commissioned officers of the Line, together with sappers
+and soldiers told off to superintend the labours of the convicts.
+
+The roll was called. Then the convicts who were going to the tailors’
+workshop started first. These men worked inside the prison, and made
+clothes for all the inmates. The other exiles went into the outer
+workshops, until at last arrived the turn of the prisoners destined for
+field labour. I was of this number--there were altogether twenty of us.
+Behind the fortress on the frozen river were two barges belonging to the
+Government, which were not worth anything, but which had to be taken to
+pieces in order that the wood might not be lost. The wood was in itself
+all but valueless, for firewood can be bought in the town at a nominal
+price. The whole country is covered with forests.
+
+This work was given to us in order that we might not remain with our
+arms crossed. This was understood on both sides. Accordingly, we went to
+it apathetically; though just the contrary happened when work had to be
+done, which would be profitable, or when a fixed task was assigned to
+us. In this latter case, although prisoners were to derive no profit
+from their work, they tried to get it over as soon as possible, and took
+a pride in doing it quickly. When such work as I am speaking of had to
+be done as a matter of form, rather than because it was necessary, task
+work could not be asked for. We had to go on until the beating of the
+drum at eleven o’clock called back the convicts.
+
+The day was warm and foggy, the snow was on the point of melting. Our
+entire band walked towards the bank behind the fortress, shaking lightly
+their chains hid beneath their garments: the sound came forth clear and
+ringing. Two or three convicts went to get their tools from the dépôt.
+
+I walked on with the others. I had become a little animated, for I
+wanted to see and know in what this field labour consisted, to what sort
+of work I was condemned, and how I should do it for the first time in my
+life.
+
+I remember the smallest particulars. We met, as we were walking along, a
+townsman with a long beard, who stopped and slipped his hand into his
+pocket. A prisoner left our party, took off his cap and received
+alms--to the extent of five kopecks--then came back hurriedly towards
+us. The townsman made the sign of the cross and went his way. The five
+kopecks were spent the same morning in buying cakes of white bread
+which were shared equally among us. In my squad some were gloomy and
+taciturn, others indifferent and indolent. There were some who talked in
+an idle manner. One of these men was extremely gay, heaven knows why. He
+sang and danced as we went along, shaking and ringing his chains at each
+step. This fat and corpulent convict was the very one who, on the very
+day of my arrival during the general washing, had a quarrel with one of
+his companions about the water, and had ventured to compare him to some
+sort of bird. His name was Scuratoff. He finished by shouting out a
+lively song of which I remember the burden:
+
+
+     They married me without my consent,
+     When I was at the mill.
+
+
+Nothing was wanting but a balalaika [the Russian banjo].
+
+His extraordinary good-humour was justly reproved by several of the
+prisoners, who were offended by it.
+
+“Listen to his hallooing,” said one of the convicts, “though it doesn’t
+become him.”
+
+“The wolf has but one song; this Tuliak [inhabitant of Tula] is stealing
+it from him,” said another, who could be recognised by his accent as a
+Little Russian.
+
+“Of course I am from Tula,” replied Scuratoff; “but we don’t stuff
+ourselves to bursting as you do in your Pultava.”
+
+“Liar! what did you eat yourself? Bark shoes and cabbage soup?”
+
+“You talk as if the devil fed you on sweet almonds,” broke in a third.
+
+“I admit, my friend, that I am an effeminate man,” said Scuratoff with a
+gentle sigh, as though he were really reproaching himself for his
+effeminacy. “From my most tender infancy I was brought up in luxury, fed
+on plums and delicate cakes. My brothers even now have a large business
+at Moscow. They are wholesale dealers in the wind that blows; immensely
+rich men, as you may imagine.”
+
+“And what did you sell?”
+
+“I was very successful, and when I received my first two hundred----”
+
+“Roubles? impossible!” interrupted one of the prisoners, struck with
+amazement at hearing of so large a sum.
+
+“No, my good fellow, not two hundred roubles, two hundred blows of the
+stick. Luka; I say Luka!”
+
+“Some have the right to call me Luka, but for you I am Luka Kouzmitch,”
+replied rather ill-temperedly a small, feeble convict with a pointed
+nose.
+
+“The devil take you, you are really not worth speaking to; yet I wanted
+to be civil to you. But to continue my story; this is how it happened
+that I did not remain any longer at Moscow. I received my fifteen last
+strokes and was then sent off, and was at----”
+
+“But what were you sent for?” asked a convict who had been listening
+attentively.
+
+“Don’t ask stupid questions. I was explaining to you how it was I did
+not make my fortune at Moscow; and yet how anxious I was to be rich, you
+could scarcely imagine how much.”
+
+Many of the prisoners began to laugh. Scuratoff was one of those lively
+persons, full of animal spirits, who take a pleasure in amusing their
+graver companions, and who, as a matter of course, received no reward
+except insults. He belonged to a type of men, to whose characteristics I
+shall, perhaps, have to return.
+
+“And what a fellow he is now!” observed Luka Kouzmitch. “His clothes
+alone must be worth a hundred roubles.”
+
+Scuratoff had the oldest and greasiest sheepskin that could be seen. It
+was mended in many different places with pieces that scarcely hung
+together. He looked at Luka attentively from head to foot.
+
+“It is my head, friend,” he said, “my head that is worth money. When I
+took farewell of Moscow, I was half consoled, because my head was to
+make the journey on my shoulders. Farewell, Moscow, I shall never
+forget your free air, nor the tremendous flogging I got. As for my
+sheepskin, you are not obliged to look at it.”
+
+“You would like me, perhaps, to look at your head?”
+
+“If it was really his own natural property, but it was given him in
+charity,” cried Luka Kouzmitch. “It was a gift made to him at Tumen,
+when the convoy was passing through the town.”
+
+“Scuratoff, had you a workshop?”
+
+“What workshop could he have? He was only a cobbler,” said one of the
+convicts.
+
+“It is true,” said Scuratoff, without noticing the caustic tone of the
+speaker. “I tried to mend boots, but I never got beyond a single pair.”
+
+“And were you paid for them?”
+
+“Well, I found a fellow who certainly neither feared God nor honoured
+either his father or his mother, and as a punishment, Providence made
+him buy the work of my hands.”
+
+The men around Scuratoff burst into a laugh.
+
+“I also worked once at the convict prison,” continued Scuratoff, with
+imperturbable coolness. “I did up the boots of Stepan Fedoritch, the
+lieutenant.”
+
+“And was he satisfied?”
+
+“No, my dear fellows, indeed he was not; he blackguarded me enough to
+last me for the rest of my life. He also pushed me from behind with his
+knee. What a rage he was in! Ah! my life has deceived me. I see no fun
+in the convict prison whatever.” He began to sing again.
+
+
+     Akolina’s husband is in the court-yard.
+       There he waits.
+
+
+Again he sang, and again he danced and leaped.
+
+“Most unbecoming!” murmured the Little Russian, who was walking by my
+side.
+
+“Frivolous man!” said another in a serious, decided tone.
+
+I could not make out why they insulted Scuratoff, nor why they despised
+those convicts who were light-hearted, as they seemed to do. I
+attributed the anger of the Little Russian and the others to a feeling
+of personal hostility, but in this I was wrong. They were vexed that
+Scuratoff had not that puffed-up air of false dignity with which the
+whole of the convict prison was impregnated.
+
+They did not, however, get annoyed with all the jokers, nor treat them
+all like Scuratoff. Some of them were men who would stand no nonsense,
+and forgive no one voluntarily or involuntarily. It was necessary to
+treat them with respect. There was in our band a convict of this very
+kind, a good-natured, lively fellow, whom I did not see in his true
+light until later on. He was a tall young fellow, with pleasant manners,
+and not without good looks. There was at the same time a very comic
+expression on his face.
+
+He was called the Sapper, because he had served in the Engineers. He
+belonged to the special section.
+
+But all the serious-minded convicts were not so particular as the Little
+Russian, who could not bear to see people gay.
+
+We had in our prison several men who aimed at a certain pre-eminence,
+either in virtue of skill at their work, of their general ingenuity, of
+their character, or their wit. Many of them were intelligent and
+energetic, and reached the point they were aiming at--pre-eminence, that
+is to say, and moral influence over their companions. They often hated
+one another, and they excited general envy. They looked upon other
+convicts with a dignified air, that was full of condescension; and they
+never quarrelled without a cause. Favourably looked upon by the
+administration, they in some measure directed the work, and none of them
+would have lowered himself so far as to quarrel with a man about his
+songs. All these men were very polite to me during the whole time of my
+imprisonment, but not at all communicative.
+
+At last we reached the bank; a little lower down was the old hulk, which
+we were to break up, stuck fast in the ice. On the other side of the
+water was the blue steppe and the sad horizon. I expected to see every
+one go to work at once. Nothing of the kind. Some of the convicts sat
+down negligently on wooden beams that were lying near the shore, and
+nearly all took from their pockets pouches containing native
+tobacco--which was sold in leaf at the market at the rate of three
+kopecks a pound--and short wooden pipes. They lighted them while the
+soldiers formed a circle around them, and began to watch us with a tired
+look.
+
+“Who the devil had the idea of sinking this barque?” asked one of the
+convicts in a loud voice, without speaking to any one in particular.
+
+“Were they very anxious, then, to have it broken up?”
+
+“The people were not afraid to give us work,” said another.
+
+“Where are all those peasants going to work?” said the first, after a
+short silence.
+
+He had not even heard his companion’s answer. He pointed with his finger
+to the distance, where a troop of peasants were marching in file across
+the virgin snow.
+
+All the convicts turned negligently towards this side, and began from
+mere idleness to laugh at the peasants as they approached them. One of
+them, the last of the line, walked very comically with his arms apart,
+and his head on one side. He wore a tall pointed cap. His shadow threw
+itself in clear lines on the white snow.
+
+“Look how our brother Petrovitch is dressed,” said one of my companions,
+imitating the pronunciation of the peasants of the locality. One amusing
+thing--the convicts looked down on peasants, although they were for the
+most part peasants by origin.
+
+“The last one, too, above all, looks as if he were planting radishes.”
+
+“He is an important personage, he has lots of money,” said a third.
+
+They all began to laugh without, however, seeming genuinely amused.
+
+During this time a woman selling cakes came up. She was a brisk, lively
+person, and it was with her that the five kopecks given by the townsman
+were spent.
+
+The young fellow who sold white bread in the convict prison took two
+dozen of her cakes, and had a long discussion with the woman in order to
+get a reduction in price. She would not, however, agree to his terms.
+
+At last the non-commissioned officer appointed to superintend the work
+came up with a cane in his hand.
+
+“What are you sitting down for? Begin at once.”
+
+“Give us our tasks, Ivan Matveitch,” said one of the “foremen” among us,
+as he slowly got up.
+
+“What more do you want? Take out the barque, that is your task.”
+
+Then ultimately the convicts got up and went to the river, but very
+slowly. Different “directors” appeared, “directors,” at least, in words.
+The barque was not to be broken up anyhow. The latitudinal and
+longitudinal beams were to be preserved, and this was not an easy thing
+to manage.
+
+“Draw this beam out, that is the first thing to do,” cried a convict who
+was neither a director nor a foreman, but a simple workman. This man,
+very quiet and a little stupid, had not previously spoken. He now bent
+down, took hold of a heavy beam with both hands, and waited for some one
+to help him. No one, however, seemed inclined to do so.
+
+“Not you, indeed, you will never manage it; not even your grandfather,
+the bear, could do it,” muttered some one between his teeth.
+
+“Well, my friend, are we to begin? As for me, I can do nothing alone,”
+said, with a morose air, the man who had put himself forward, and who
+now, quitting the beam, held himself upright.
+
+“Unless you are going to do all the work by yourself, what are you in
+such a hurry about?”
+
+“I was only speaking,” said the poor fellow, excusing himself for his
+forwardness.
+
+“Must you have blankets to keep yourselves warm, or are you to be
+heated for the winter?” cried a non-commissioned officer to the twenty
+men who seemed to loathe to begin work. “Go on at once.”
+
+“It is never any use being in a hurry, Ivan Matveitch.”
+
+“But you are doing nothing at all, Savelieff. What are you casting your
+eyes about for? Are they for sale, by chance? Come, go on.”
+
+“What can I do alone?”
+
+“Set us tasks, Ivan Matveitch.”
+
+“I told you before that I had no task to give you. Attack the barque,
+and when you have finished we will go back to the house. Come, begin.”
+
+The prisoners began work, but with no good-will, and very indolently.
+The irritation of the chief at seeing these vigorous men remain so idle
+was intelligible enough. While the first rivet was being removed it
+suddenly snapped.
+
+“It broke to pieces,” said the convict in self-justification. It was
+impossible, then, they suggested, to work in such a manner. What was to
+be done? A long discussion took place between the prisoners, and little
+by little they came to insults; nor did this seem likely to be the end
+of it. The under officer cried out again as he agitated his stick, but
+the second rivet snapped like the first. It was then agreed that
+hatchets were of no use, and that other tools must be procured.
+Accordingly, two prisoners were sent under escort to the fortress to get
+the proper instruments. Waiting their return, the other convicts sat
+down on the bank as calmly as possible, pulled out their pipes and began
+again to smoke. Finally, the under officer spat with contempt.
+
+“Well,” he exclaimed, “the work you are doing will not kill you. Oh,
+what people, what people!” he grumbled, with an ill-natured air. He then
+made a gesture, and went away to the fortress, brandishing his cane.
+
+After an hour the “conductor” arrived. He listened quietly to what the
+convicts had to say, declared that the task he gave them was to get off
+four rivets unbroken, and to demolish a good part of the barque. As
+soon as this was done the prisoners could go back to the house. The task
+was a considerable one, but, good heavens! how the convicts now went to
+work! Where now was their idleness, their want of skill? The hatchets
+soon began to dance, and soon the rivets were sprung. Those who had no
+hatchets made use of thick sticks to push beneath the rivets, and thus
+in due time and in artistic fashion, they got them out. The convicts
+seemed suddenly to have become intelligent in their conversation. No
+more insults were heard. Every one knew perfectly what to say, to do, to
+advise. Just half-an-hour before the beating of the drum, the appointed
+task was executed, and the prisoners returned to the convict prison
+fatigued, but pleased to have gained half-an-hour from the working time
+fixed by the regulations.
+
+As regards myself, I have only one thing to say. Wherever I stood to
+help the workers I was never in my place; they always drove me away, and
+generally insulted me. Any one of the ragged lot, any miserable workman
+who would not have dared to say a syllable to the other convicts, all
+more intelligent and skilful than he, assumed the right of swearing at
+me if I went near him, under pretext that I interfered with him in his
+work. At last one of the best of them said to me frankly, but coarsely:
+
+“What do you want here? Be off with you! Why do you come when no one
+calls you?”
+
+“That is it,” added another.
+
+“You would do better to take a pitcher,” said a third, “and carry water
+to the house that is being built, or go to the tobacco factory. You are
+no good here.”
+
+I was obliged to keep apart. To remain idle while others were working
+seemed a shame; but when I went to the other end of the barque I was
+insulted anew.
+
+“What men we have to work!” was the cry. “What can be done with fellows
+of this kind?”
+
+All this was said spitefully. They were pleased to have the opportunity
+of laughing at a gentleman.
+
+It will now be understood that my first thought on entering the convict
+prison was to ask myself how I should ever get on with such people. I
+foresaw that such incidents would often be repeated; but I resolved not
+to change my conduct in any way, whatever might be the result. I had
+decided to live simply and intelligently, without manifesting the least
+desire to approach my companions; but also without repelling them, if
+they themselves desired to approach me; in no way to fear their threats
+or their hatred; and to pretend as much as possible not to be affected
+by them. Such was my plan. I saw from the first that they would despise
+me, if I adopted any other course.
+
+When I returned in the evening to the convict prison, having finished my
+afternoon’s work, fatigued and harassed, a deep sadness took possession
+of me. “How many thousands of days have I to pass like this one?” Always
+the same thought. I walked about alone and meditated as night fell,
+when, suddenly, near the palisade behind the barracks, I saw my friend,
+Bull, who ran towards me.
+
+Bull was the dog of the prison; for the prison has its dog as companies
+of infantry, batteries of artillery, and squadrons of cavalry have
+theirs. He had been there for a long time, belonged to no one, looked
+upon every one as his master, and lived on the remains from the kitchen.
+He was a good-sized black dog, spotted with white, not very old, with
+intelligent eyes, and a bushy tail. No one caressed him or paid the
+least attention to him. As soon as I arrived I made friends with him by
+giving him a piece of bread. When I patted him on the back he remained
+motionless, looked at me with a pleased expression, and gently wagged
+his tail.
+
+That evening, not having seen me the whole day--me, the first person who
+in so many years had thought of caressing him--he ran towards me,
+leaping and barking. It had such an effect on me that I could not help
+embracing him. I placed his head against my body. He placed his paws on
+my shoulders and looked me in the face.
+
+“Here is a friend sent to me by destiny,” I said to myself, and during
+the first weeks, so full of pain, every time that I came back from work
+I hastened, before doing anything else, to go to the back of the
+barracks with Bull, who leaped with joy before me. I took his head in my
+hands and kissed it. At the same time a troubled, bitter feeling pressed
+my heart. I well remember thinking--and taking pleasure in the
+thought--that this was my one, my only friend in the world--my faithful
+dog, Bull.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+NEW ACQUAINTANCES--PETROFF
+
+
+Time went on, and little by little I accustomed myself to my new life.
+The scenes I had daily before me no longer afflicted me so much. In a
+word, the convict prison, its inhabitants, and its manners, left me
+indifferent. To get reconciled to this life was impossible, but I had to
+accept it as an inevitable fact. I had driven entirely away from me all
+the anxiety by which I had at first been troubled. I no longer wandered
+through the convict prison like a lost soul, and no longer allowed
+myself to be subjugated by my anxiety. The wild curiosity of the
+convicts had had its edge taken off, and I was no longer looked upon
+with that affectation or insolence previously displayed. They had become
+indifferent to me, and I was very glad of it. I began to feel at home in
+the barracks. I knew where to go and sleep at night; gradually I became
+accustomed to things the very idea of which would formerly have been
+repugnant to me. I went every week regularly to have my head shaved. We
+were called every Saturday one after another to the guard-house. The
+regimental barbers lathered our skulls with cold water and soap, and
+scraped us afterwards with their saw-like razors.
+
+Merely the thought of this torture gives me a shudder. I soon found a
+remedy for it--Akim Akimitch pointed it out to me--a prisoner in the
+military section who for one kopeck shaved those who paid for it with
+his own razor. This was his trade. Many of the prisoners were his
+customers merely to avoid the military barbers, yet these were not men
+of weak nerves. Our barber was called the “major,” why, I cannot say. As
+far as I know he possessed no points of resemblance with any major. As I
+write these lines I see clearly before me the “major” and his thin face.
+He was a tall fellow, silent, rather stupid, absorbed entirely by his
+business; he was never to be seen without a strop in his hand, on which
+day and night he sharpened a razor, which was always in admirable
+condition. He had certainly made this work the supreme object of his
+life; he was really happy when his razor was quite sharp and his
+services were in request; his soap was always warm, and he had a very
+light hand--a hand of velvet. He was proud of his skill, and used to
+take with a careless air the kopeck he received; one might have thought
+that he worked from love of his art, and not in order to gain money.
+
+A----f was soundly corrected by our real Major one day, because he had
+the misfortune to say the “major” when he was speaking of the barber who
+shaved him. The real Major was in a violent rage.
+
+“Blackguard,” he cried, “do you know what a major is?” and according to
+his habit he shook A----f violently. “The idea of calling a scoundrel of
+a convict a ‘major’ in my presence.”
+
+From the first day of my imprisonment I began to dream of my liberation.
+My favourite occupation was to count thousands and thousands of times in
+a thousand different manners the number of days that I should have to
+pass in prison. I thought of that only, and every one deprived of his
+liberty for a fixed time does the same; of that I am certain. I cannot
+say that all the convicts had the same degree of hopefulness, but their
+sanguine character often astonished me. The hopefulness of a prisoner
+differs essentially from that of a free man. The latter may desire an
+amelioration in his position, or a realisation of some enterprise which
+he has undertaken, but meanwhile he lives, he acts; he is swept away in
+the whirlwind of real life. Nothing of the kind takes place in the case
+of the convict for life. He lives also in a way, but not being condemned
+to a fixed number of years, he takes a vaguer view of his situation than
+the one who is imprisoned for a definite term. The man condemned for a
+comparatively short period feels that he is not at home; he looks upon
+himself, so to say, as on a visit; he regards the twenty years of his
+punishment as two years at most; he is sure that at fifty, when he has
+finished his sentence, he will be as young and as lively as at
+thirty-five. “We have time before us,” he thinks, and he strives
+obstinately to dispel discouraging thoughts. Even a man sentenced for
+life thinks that some day an order may arrive from St.
+Petersburg--“Transport such a one to the mines at Nertchinsk and fix a
+term for his detention.” It would be famous, first because it takes six
+months to get to Nertchinsk, and the life on the road is a hundred times
+preferable to the convict prison. He would finish his time at
+Nertchinsk, and then--more than one gray-haired old man speculates in
+this way.
+
+At Tobolsk I have seen men fastened to the wall by a chain about two
+yards long; by their side they have their bed. They are thus chained for
+some terrible crime committed after their transportation to Siberia;
+they are kept chained up for five, ten years. They are nearly all
+brigands, and I only saw one of them who looked like a man of good
+breeding; he had been in some branch of the Civil Service, and spoke in
+a soft, lisping way; his smile was sweet but sickly; he showed us his
+chain, and pointed out to us the most convenient way of lying down. He
+must have been a nice person! All these poor wretches are perfectly
+well-behaved; they all seem satisfied, and yet their desire to finish
+their period of chains devours them. Why? it will be asked. Because then
+they will leave their low, damp, stifling cells for the court-yard of
+the convict prison, that is all. These last places of confinement they
+will never leave; they know that those who have once been chained up
+will never be liberated, and they will die in irons. They know all this,
+and yet they are very anxious to be no longer chained up. Without this
+hope could they remain five or six years fastened to a wall, and not die
+or go mad?
+
+I soon understood that work alone could save me, by fortifying my health
+and my body, whereas incessant restlessness of mind, nervous irritation,
+and the close air of the barracks would ruin them completely. I should
+go out vigorous and full of elasticity. I did not deceive myself, work
+and movement were very useful to me.
+
+I saw one of my comrades, to my terror, melt away like a piece of wax;
+and yet, when he was with me in the convict prison, he was young,
+handsome, and vigorous; when he left his health was ruined, and his legs
+could no longer support him. His chest, too, was oppressed by asthma.
+
+“No,” I said to myself, as I gazed upon him; “I wish to live, and I will
+live.”
+
+My love for work exposed me in the first place to the contempt and
+bitter laughter of my comrades; but I paid no attention to them, and
+went away with a light heart wherever I was sent. Sometimes, for
+instance, to break and pound alabaster. This work, the first that was
+given to me, is easy. The engineers did their utmost to lighten the
+task-work of all the gentlemen; this was not indulgence, but simple
+justice. Would it not have been strange to require the same work from a
+labourer as from a man whose strength was less by half, and who had
+never worked with his hands? But we were not “spoilt” in this way for
+ever, and we were only spared in secret, for we were severely watched.
+As real severe work was by no means rare, it often happened that the
+task given to us was beyond the strength of the gentlemen, who thus
+suffered twice as much as their comrades.
+
+Generally three or four men were sent to pound the alabaster, and
+nearly always old men or feeble ones were chosen. We were of the latter
+class. A man skilled in this particular kind of work was sent with us.
+For several years it was always the same man, Almazoff by name. He was
+severe, already in years, sunburnt, and very thin, by no means
+communicative, moreover, and difficult to get on with. He despised us
+profoundly; but he was of such a reserved disposition that he never
+broke it sufficient to call us names. The shed in which we calcined the
+alabaster was built on a sloping and deserted bank of the river. In
+winter, on a foggy day, the view was sad, both on the river and on the
+opposite shore, even to a great distance. There was something
+heartrending in this dull, naked landscape, but it was still sadder when
+a brilliant sun shone above the boundless white plain. How one would
+have liked to fly away beyond this steppe, which began on the opposite
+shore and stretched out for fifteen hundred versts to the south like an
+immense table-cloth.
+
+Almazoff went to work silently, with a disagreeable air. We were ashamed
+not to be able to help him more effectually, but he managed to do his
+work without our assistance, and seemed to wish to make us understand
+that we were acting unjustly towards him, and that we ought to repent
+our uselessness. Our work consisted in heating the oven in order to
+calcine the alabaster that we had got together in a heap.
+
+The day following, when the alabaster was entirely calcined, we turned
+it out. Each one filled a box of alabaster, which he afterwards crushed.
+This work was not disagreeable. The fragile alabaster soon became a
+white, brilliant dust. We brandished our heavy hammers, and dealt such
+formidable blows, that we admired our own strength. When we were tired
+we felt lighter, our cheeks were red, the blood circulated more rapidly
+in our veins. Almazoff would then look at us in a condescending manner,
+as he would have looked at little children. He smoked his pipe with an
+indulgent air, unable, however, to prevent himself from grumbling. When
+he opened his mouth he was never otherwise, and he was the same with
+every one. At bottom I believe he was a kind man.
+
+They gave me another kind of labour, which consisted in working the
+turning wheel. This wheel was high and heavy, and great efforts were
+necessary to make it go round, above all when the workmen from the
+workshop of the engineers used to make the balustrade of a staircase or
+the foot of a large table, which required almost the whole trunk. No one
+man could have done the work alone. To two convicts, B---- (formerly
+gentleman) and myself, this work was given nearly always for several
+years, whenever there was anything to turn. B---- was weak, even still
+young, and somewhat sympathetic. He had been sent to prison a year
+before me, with two companions who were also of noble birth. One of
+them, an old man, used to pray day and night. The prisoners respected
+him greatly for it. He died in prison. The other one was quite a young
+man, fresh-coloured, strong, and courageous. He had carried his
+companion B---- for several hundred versts, seeing that at the end of
+the first half-stage he had fallen down from fatigue. Their friendship
+for one another was something to see.
+
+B---- was a perfectly well-bred man, of noble and generous disposition,
+but spoiled and irritated by illness. We used to turn the wheel well
+together, and the work interested us. As for me, I found the exercise
+most salutary.
+
+I was very--too--fond of shovelling away the snow, which we generally
+did after the hurricanes, so frequent in the winter. When the hurricane
+had been raging for an entire day, more than one house would be buried
+up to the windows, even if it was not covered over entirely. The
+hurricane ceased, the sun reappeared, and we were ordered to disengage
+the houses, barricaded as they were by heaps of snow.
+
+We were sent in large bands, sometimes the whole of the convicts
+together. Each of us received a shovel and had an appointed task to do,
+which it sometimes seemed impossible to get through. But we all went to
+work with a good-will. The light dust-like snow had not yet congealed,
+and was frozen only on the surface. We removed it in enormous
+shovelfuls, which were dispersed around us. In the air the snow-dust was
+as brilliant as diamonds. The shovel sank easily into the white
+glittering mass. The convicts did this work almost always with gaiety,
+the cold winter air and the exercise animated them. Every one felt
+himself in better spirits, laughter and jokes were heard, snowballs were
+exchanged, which after a time excited the indignation of the
+serious-minded convicts, who liked neither laughter nor gaiety.
+Accordingly these scenes finished almost always in showers of insults.
+
+Little by little the circle of my acquaintances increased, although I
+never thought of making new ones. I was always restless, morose, and
+mistrustful. Acquaintances, however, were made involuntarily. The first
+who came to visit me was the convict Petroff. I say visit, and I retain
+the word, for he lived in the special division which was at the farthest
+end of the barracks from mine. It seemed as if no relations could exist
+between him and me, for we had nothing in common.
+
+Nevertheless, during the first period of my stay, Petroff thought it his
+duty to come towards me nearly every day, or at least to stop me when,
+after work, I went for a stroll at the back of the barracks as far as
+possible from observation. His persistence was disagreeable to me; but
+he managed so well that his visits became at last a pleasing diversion,
+although he was by no means of a communicative disposition. He was
+short, strongly built, agile, and skilful. He had rather an agreeable
+voice, and high cheek-bones, a bold look, and white, regular teeth. He
+had always a quid of tobacco in his mouth between the lower lip and the
+gums. Many of the convicts had the habit of chewing. He seemed to me
+younger than he really was, for he did not appear to be more than
+thirty, and he was really forty. He spoke to me without any ceremony,
+and behaved to me on a footing of equality with civility and attention.
+If, for instance, he saw that I wished to be alone, he would talk to me
+for about two minutes and then go away. He thanked me, moreover, each
+time for my kindness in conversing with him, which he never did to any
+one else. I must add that his relations underwent no change not only
+during the first period of my story, but for several years, and that
+they never became more intimate, although he was really my friend. I
+never could say exactly what he looked for in my society, nor why he
+came every day to see me. He robbed me sometimes, but almost
+involuntarily. He never came to me to borrow money; so that what
+attracted him was not personal interest.
+
+It seemed to me, I know not why, that this man did not live in the same
+prison with me, but in another house in the town, far away. It appeared
+as though he had come to the convict prison by chance in order to pick
+up news, to inquire for me, in short, to see how I was getting on. He
+was always in a hurry, as though he had left some one for a moment who
+was waiting for him, or as if he had given up for a time some matter of
+business. And yet he never hurried himself. His look was strongly fixed,
+with a slight air of levity and irony. He had a habit of looking into
+the distance above the objects near him, as though he were endeavouring
+to distinguish something behind the person to whom he was talking. He
+always seemed absent-minded. I sometimes asked myself where he went when
+he left me, where could Petroff be so anxiously expected? He would
+simply go with a light step to one of the barracks or to the kitchen,
+and sit down to hear the conversation. He listened attentively, and
+joined in with animation; after which he would suddenly become silent.
+But whether he spoke or kept silent, one could always see on his
+countenance that he had business somewhere else, and that some one was
+waiting for him in the town, not very far away. The most astonishing
+thing was that he never had any business--apart, of course, from the
+hard labour assigned to him. He knew no trade, and had scarcely ever any
+money. But that did not seem to grieve him. Why did he speak to me? His
+conversation was as strange as he himself was singular. When he noticed
+that I was walking alone at the back of the barracks he made a stand,
+and turned towards me. He walked very fast, and when I turned he was
+suddenly on his heel. He approached me walking, but so quickly that he
+seemed to be going at a run.
+
+“Good-morning.”
+
+“Good-morning.”
+
+“I am not disturbing you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“I wish to ask you something about Napoleon. I wanted to ask you if he
+is not a relation of the one who came to us in the year 1812.”
+
+Petroff was a soldier’s son, and knew how to read and write.
+
+“Of course he is.”
+
+“People say he is President. What President--and of what?”
+
+His questions were always rapid and abrupt, as though he wished to know
+as soon as possible what he asked. I explained to him of what Napoleon
+was President, and I added that perhaps he would become Emperor.
+
+“How will that be?”
+
+I explained it to him as well as I could; Petroff listened with
+attention. He understood perfectly all I told him, and added, as he
+leant his ear towards me:
+
+“Hem! Ah, I wished to ask you, Alexander Petrovitch, if there are really
+monkeys who have hands instead of feet, and are as tall as a man?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What are they like?”
+
+I described them to him, and told him what I knew on the subject.
+
+“And where do they live?”
+
+“In warm climates. There are some to be found in the island of
+Sumatra.”
+
+“Is that in America? I have heard that people there walk with their
+heads downwards.”
+
+“No, no; you are thinking of the Antipodes.” I explained to him as well
+as I could what America was, and what the Antipodes. He listened to me
+as attentively as if the question of the Antipodes had alone caused him
+to approach me.
+
+“Ah, ah! I read last year the story of the Countess de la Vallière.
+Arevieff had bought this book from the Adjutant. Is it true or is it an
+invention? The work is by Dumas.”
+
+“It is an invention, no doubt.”
+
+“Ah, indeed. Good-bye. I am much obliged to you.”
+
+And Petroff disappeared. The above may be taken as a specimen of our
+ordinary conversation.
+
+I made inquiries about him. M---- thought he had better speak to me on
+the subject, when he learnt what an acquaintance I had made. He told me
+that many convicts had excited his horror on their arrival; but not one
+of them, not even Gazin, had produced upon him such a frightful
+impression as this Petroff.
+
+“He is the most resolute, most to be feared of all the convicts,” said
+M----. “He is capable of anything, nothing stops him if he has a
+caprice. He will assassinate you, if the fancy takes him, without
+hesitation and without the least remorse. I often think he is not in his
+right senses.”
+
+This declaration interested me extremely; but M---- was never able to
+tell me why he had such an opinion of Petroff. Strangely enough, for
+many years together I saw this man and talked with him nearly every day.
+He was always my sincere friend, though I could not at the time tell
+why, and during the whole time he lived very quietly, and did nothing
+extreme. I am moreover convinced that M---- was right, and that he was
+perhaps a most intrepid man and the most difficult to restrain in the
+whole prison. And why so, I can scarcely explain.
+
+This Petroff was that very convict who, when he was called up to receive
+his punishment, had wished to kill the Major. I have told you the latter
+was saved by a miracle--that he had gone away one minute before the
+punishment was inflicted.
+
+Once when he was still a soldier--before his arrival at the convict
+prison--his Colonel had struck him on parade. Probably he had often been
+beaten before, but that day he was not in a humour to bear an insult, in
+open day, before the battalion drawn up in line. He killed his Colonel.
+I don’t know all the details of the story, for he never told it to me
+himself. It must be understood that these explosions only took place
+when the nature within him spoke too loudly, and these occasions were
+rare; as a rule he was serious and even quiet. His strong, ardent
+passions were not burnt out, but smouldering, like burning coals beneath
+ashes.
+
+I never noticed that he was vain, or given to bragging like so many
+other convicts. He hardly ever quarrelled, but he was on friendly
+relations with scarcely any one, except, perhaps, Sirotkin, and then
+only when he had need of him. I saw him, however, one day seriously
+irritated. Some one had offended him by refusing him something he
+wanted. He was disputing on the point with a tall convict, as vigorous
+as an athlete, named Vassili Antonoff, known for his nagging, spiteful
+disposition. The man, however, who belonged to the class of civil
+convicts, was far from being a coward. They shouted at one another for
+some time, and I thought the quarrel would finish like so many others of
+the same kind, by simple interchange of abuse. The affair took an
+unexpected turn. Petroff only suddenly turned pale, his lips trembled,
+and turned blue, his respiration became difficult. He got up, and
+slowly, very slowly, and with imperceptible steps--he liked to walk
+about with his feet naked--approached Antonoff; at once the noise of
+shouting gave place to a death-like silence--a fly passing through the
+air might have been heard--every one anxiously awaited the event.
+Antonoff pointed to his adversary. His face was no longer human. I was
+unable to endure the scene, and I left the prison. I was certain that
+before I got to the staircase I should hear the shrieks of a man who was
+being murdered; but nothing of the kind took place. Before Petroff had
+succeeded in getting up to Antonoff, the latter threw him the object
+which had caused the quarrel--a miserable rag, a worn-out piece of
+lining.
+
+Of course afterwards, Antonoff did not fail to call Petroff names,
+merely as a matter of conscience, and from a feeling of what was right,
+in order to show that he had not been too much afraid; but Petroff paid
+no attention to his insults, he did not even answer him. Everything had
+ended to his advantage, and the insults scarcely affected him; he was
+glad to have got his piece of rag.
+
+A quarter of an hour later he was strolling about the barracks quite
+unoccupied, looking for some group whose conversation might possibly
+gratify his curiosity. Everything seemed to interest him, and yet he
+remained apparently indifferent to all he heard. He might have been
+compared to a workman, a vigorous workman, whom the work fears; but who,
+for the moment, has nothing to do, and condescends meanwhile to put out
+his strength in playing with his children. I did not understand why he
+remained in prison, why he did not escape. He would not have hesitated
+to get away if he had really desired to do so. Reason has no power on
+people like Petroff unless they are spurred on by will. When they desire
+something there are no obstacles in their way. I am certain that he
+would have been clever enough to escape, that he would have deceived
+every one, that he would have remained for a time without eating, hid in
+a forest, or in the bulrushes of the river; but the idea had evidently
+not occurred to him. I never noticed in him much judgment or good sense.
+People like him are born with one idea, which, without being aware of
+it, pursues them all their life. They wander until they meet with some
+object which apparently excites their desire, and then they do not mind
+risking their head. I was sometimes astonished that a man who had
+assassinated his Colonel for having been struck, would lie down without
+opposition beneath the rods, for he was always flogged when he was
+detected introducing spirits into the prison. Like all those who had no
+settled occupation, he smuggled in spirits; then, if caught, he would
+allow himself to be whipped as though he consented to the punishment,
+and confessed himself in the wrong. Otherwise they would have killed him
+rather than make him lie down. More than once I was astonished to see
+that he was robbing me in spite of his affection for me; but he did so
+from time to time. Thus he stole my Bible, which I had asked him to
+carry to its place. He had only a few steps to go; but on his way he met
+with a purchaser, to whom he sold the book, at once spending the money
+he had received on vodka. Probably he felt that day a violent desire for
+drink, and when he desired something it was necessary that he should
+have it. A man like Petroff will assassinate any one for twenty-five
+kopecks, simply to get himself a pint of vodka. On any other occasion he
+will disdain hundreds and thousands of roubles. He told me the same
+evening of the theft he had committed, but without showing the least
+sign of repentance or confusion, in a perfectly indifferent tone, as
+though he were speaking of an ordinary incident. I endeavoured to
+reprove him as he deserved, for I regretted the loss of my Bible. He
+listened to me without hesitation very calmly. He agreed that the Bible
+was a very useful book, and sincerely regretted that I had it no longer;
+but he was not for one moment sorry, though he had stolen it. He looked
+at me with such assurance that I gave up scolding him. He bore my
+reproaches because he thought I could not do otherwise than I was doing.
+He knew that he ought to be punished for such an action, and
+consequently thought I ought to abuse him for my own satisfaction, and
+to console myself for my loss. But in his inner heart he considered
+that it was all nonsense, to which a serious man ought to be ashamed to
+descend. I believe even that he looked upon me as a child, an infant,
+who does not yet understand the simplest things in the world. If I spoke
+to him of anything, except books and matters of knowledge, he would
+answer me, but only from politeness, and in laconic phrases. I wondered
+what made him question me so much on the subject of books. I looked at
+him carefully during our conversation to assure myself that he was not
+laughing at me; but no, he listened seriously, and with an attention
+which was genuine, though not always maintained. This latter
+circumstance irritated me sometimes. The questions he put to me were
+clear and precise, and he always seemed prepared for the answer. He had
+made up his mind once for all that it was no use speaking to me as to
+other matters, and that, apart from books, I understood nothing. I am
+certain that he was attached to me, and much that fact astonished me;
+but he looked upon me as a child, or as an imperfect man. He felt for me
+that sort of compassion which every stronger being feels for a weaker;
+he took me for--I do not know what he took me for. Although this
+compassion did not prevent him from robbing me, I am sure that in doing
+so he pitied me.
+
+“What a strange person!” he must have said to himself, as he lay hands
+on my property; “he does not even know how to take care of what he
+possesses.” That, I think, is why he liked me. One day he said to me as
+if involuntarily:
+
+“You are too good-natured, you are so simple, so simple that one cannot
+help pitying you. Do not be offended at what I was saying to you,
+Alexander Petrovitch,” he added a minute afterwards, “it is not
+ill-meant.”
+
+People like Petroff will sometimes, in times of trouble and excitement,
+manifest themselves in a forcible manner; then they find the kind of
+activity which suits them; they are not men of words; they could not be
+instigators and chiefs of insurrections, but they are the men who
+execute and act; they act simply without any fuss, and run just to throw
+themselves against an obstacle with bared breast, neither thinking nor
+fearing. Every one follows them to the foot of the wall, where they
+generally leave their life. I do not think Petroff can have ended well,
+he was marked for a violent end; and if he is not yet dead, that only
+means that the opportunity has not yet presented itself. Who knows,
+however? He will, perhaps, die of extreme old age, quite quietly, after
+having wandered through life, here and there, without an object; but I
+believe M---- was right, and that Petroff was the most determined man in
+the whole convict prison.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+MEN OF DETERMINATION--LUKA
+
+
+It is difficult to speak of these men of determination. In the convict
+prison, as elsewhere, they are rare. They can be known by the fear they
+inspire; people beware of them. An irresistible feeling urged me first
+of all to turn away from them, but I afterwards changed my point of
+view, even in regard to the most frightful murderers. There are men who
+have never killed any one, and who, nevertheless, are more atrocious
+than those who have assassinated six persons. It is impossible to form
+an idea of certain crimes, of so strange a nature are they.
+
+A type of murderers that one often meets with is the following: A man
+lives calmly and peacefully. His fate is a hard one, but he puts up with
+it. He is a peasant attached to the soil, a domestic serf, a shopkeeper,
+or a soldier. Suddenly he finds something give way within him; what he
+has hitherto suffered he can bear no longer, and he plunges his knife
+into the breast of his oppressor or his enemy. He then goes beyond all
+measure. He has killed his oppressor, his enemy. That can be
+understood--there was cause for that crime; but afterwards he does not
+assassinate his enemies alone, but the first person he happens to meet
+he kills for the pleasure of killing--for an abusive word, for a look,
+to make an equal number, or only because some one is standing in his
+way. He behaves like a drunken man--a man in a delirium. When once he
+has passed the fatal line, he is himself astonished to find that nothing
+sacred exists for him. He breaks through all laws, defies all powers,
+and gives himself boundless license. He enjoys the agitation of his own
+heart and the terror that he inspires. He knows all the same that a
+frightful punishment awaits him. His sensations are probably like those
+of a man who, looking down from a high tower on to the abyss yawning at
+his feet, would be happy to throw himself head first into it in order to
+bring everything to an end. That is what happens with even the most
+quiet, the most commonplace individuals. There are some even who give
+themselves airs in this extremity. The more they were quiet,
+self-effacing before, the more they now swagger and seek to inspire
+fear. The desperate men enjoy the horror they cause; they take pleasure
+in the disgust they excite; they perform acts of madness from despair,
+and care nothing how it must all end, or seem impatient that it should
+end as soon as possible. The most curious thing is that their
+excitement, their exaltation, will last until the pillory. After that
+the thread is cut, the moment is fatal, and the man becomes suddenly
+calm, or, rather, he becomes extinct, a thing without feeling. In the
+pillory all his strength fails him, and he begs pardon of the people.
+Once at the convict prison, he is quite different. No one would ever
+imagine that this white-livered chicken had killed five or six men.
+
+There are some men whom the convict prison does not easily subdue. They
+preserve a certain swagger, a spirit of bravado.
+
+“I say, I am not what you take me for; I have sent six fellows out of
+the world,” you will hear them boast; but sooner or later they have all
+to submit. From time to time, the murderer will amuse himself by
+recalling his audacity, his lawlessness when he was in a state of
+despair. He likes at these moments to have some silly fellow before whom
+he can brag, and to whom he will relate his heroic deeds, by pretending
+not to have the least wish to astonish him. “That is the sort of man I
+am,” he says.
+
+And with what a refinement of prudent conceit he watches him while he is
+delivering his narrative! In his accent, in every word, this can be
+perceived. Where did he acquire this particular kind of artfulness?
+
+During the long evening of one of the first days of my confinement, I
+was listening to one of these conversations. Thanks to my inexperience I
+took the narrator for the malefactor, a man with an iron character, a
+man to whom Petroff was nothing. The narrator, Luka Kouzmitch, had
+“knocked over” a Major, for no other reason but that it pleased him to
+do so. This Luka Kouzmitch was the smallest and thinnest man in all the
+barracks. He was from the South. He had been a serf, one of those not
+attached to the soil, but who serve their masters as domestics. There
+was something cutting and haughty in his demeanour. He was a little
+bird, but had a beak and nails. The convicts sum up a man instinctively.
+They thought nothing of this one, he was too susceptible and too full of
+conceit.
+
+That evening he was stitching a shirt, seated on his camp-bedstead.
+Close to him was a narrow-minded, stupid, but good-natured and obliging
+fellow, a sort of Colossus, Kobylin by name. Luka often quarrelled with
+him in a neighbourly way, and treated him with a haughtiness which,
+thanks to his good-nature, Kobylin did not notice in the least. He was
+knitting a stocking, and listening to Luka with an indifferent air. Luka
+spoke in a loud voice and very distinctly. He wished every one to hear
+him, though he was apparently speaking only to Kobylin.
+
+“I was sent away,” said Luka, sticking his needle in the shirt, “as a
+brigand.”
+
+“How long ago?” asked Kobylin.
+
+“When the peas are ripe it will be just a year. Well, we got to K----v,
+and I was put into the convict prison. Around me there were a dozen men
+from Little Russia, well-built, solid, robust fellows, like oxen, and
+how quiet! The food was bad, the Major of the prison did what he liked.
+One day passed, then another, and I soon saw that all these fellows were
+cowards.
+
+“‘You are afraid of such an idiot?’ I said to them.
+
+“‘Go and talk to him yourself,’ and they burst out laughing like brutes
+that they were. I held my tongue.
+
+“There was one fellow so droll, so droll,” added the narrator, now
+leaving Kobylin to address all who chose to listen.
+
+“This droll fellow was telling them how he had been tried, what he had
+said, and how he had wept with hot tears.
+
+“‘There was a dog of a clerk there,’ he said, ‘who did nothing but write
+and take down every word I said. I told him I wished him at the devil,
+and he actually wrote that down. He troubled me so, that I quite lost my
+head.’”
+
+“Give me some thread, Vasili; the house thread is bad, rotten.”
+
+“There is some from the tailor’s shop,” replied Vasili, handing it over
+to him.
+
+“Well, but about this Major?” said Kobylin, who had been quite
+forgotten.
+
+Luka was only waiting for that. He did not go on at once with his story,
+as though Kobylin were not worth such a mark of attention. He threaded
+his needle quietly, bent his legs lazily beneath him, and at last
+continued as follows:
+
+“I excited the fellows to such an extent that they all called out
+against the Major. That same morning I had borrowed the ‘rascal’ [prison
+slang for knife] from my neighbour, and had hid it, so as to be ready
+for anything. When the Major arrived, he was as furious as a madman.
+‘Come now, you Little Russians,’ I whispered to them, ‘this is not the
+time for fear.’ But, dear me, all their courage had slipped down to the
+soles of their feet, they trembled! The Major came in, he was quite
+drunk.
+
+“‘What is this, how do you dare? I am your Tzar, your God,’ he cried.
+
+“When he said that he was the Tzar and God, I went up to him with my
+knife in my sleeve.
+
+“‘No,’ I said to him, ‘your high nobility,’ and I got nearer and nearer
+to him, ‘that cannot be. Your “high nobility” cannot be our Tzar and our
+God.’
+
+“‘Ah, you are the man, it is you,’ cried the Major; ‘you are the leader
+of them.’
+
+“‘No,’ I answered, and I got still nearer to him; ‘no, your “high
+nobility,” as every one knows, and as you yourself know, the
+all-powerful God present everywhere is alone in heaven. And we have only
+one Tzar placed above every one else by God himself. He is our monarch,
+your “high nobility.” And, your “high nobility,” you are as yet only
+Major, and you are our chief only by the grace of the Tzar, and by your
+merits.’
+
+“‘How? how? how?’ stammered the Major. He could not speak, so astounded
+was he.
+
+“This is how I answered, and I threw myself upon him and thrust my knife
+into his belly up to the hilt. It had been done very quickly; the Major
+tottered, turned, and fell.
+
+“I had thrown my life away.
+
+“‘Now, you fellows,’ I cried, ‘it is for you to pick him up.’”
+
+I will here make a digression from my narrative. The expression, “I am
+the Tzar! I am God!” and other similar ones were once, unfortunately,
+too often employed in the good old times by many commanders. I must
+admit that their number has seriously diminished, and perhaps even the
+last has already disappeared. Let me observe that those who spoke in
+this way were, above all, men promoted from the ranks. The grade of
+officer had turned their brain upside down. After having laboured long
+years beneath the knapsack, they suddenly found themselves officers,
+commanders, and nobles above all. Thanks to their not being accustomed
+to it, and to the first excitement caused by their promotion, they
+contracted an exaggerated idea of their power and importance relatively
+to their subordinates. Before their superiors such men are revoltingly
+servile. The most fawning of them will even say to their superiors that
+they have been common soldiers, and that they do not forget their place.
+But towards their inferiors they are despots without mercy. Nothing
+irritates the convicts so much as such abuses. These overweening
+opinions of their own greatness; this exaggerated idea of their
+immunity, causes hatred in the hearts of the most submissive men, and
+drives the most patient to excesses. Fortunately, all this dates from a
+time that is almost forgotten, and even then the superior authorities
+used to deal very severely with abuses of power. I know more than one
+example of it. What exasperates the convicts above all is disdain or
+repugnance manifested by any one in dealing with them. Those who think
+that it is only necessary to feed and clothe the prisoner, and to act
+towards him in all things according to the law, are much mistaken.
+However much debased he may be, a man exacts instinctively respect for
+his character as a man. Every prisoner knows perfectly that he is a
+convict and a reprobate, and knows the distance which separates him from
+his superiors; but neither the branding irons nor chains will make him
+forget that he is a man. He must, therefore, be treated with humanity.
+Humane treatment may raise up one in whom the divine image has long been
+obscured. It is with the “unfortunate,” above all, that humane conduct
+is necessary. It is their salvation, their only joy. I have met with
+some chiefs of a kind and noble character, and I have seen what a
+beneficent influence they exercised over the poor, humiliated men
+entrusted to their care. A few affable words have a wonderful moral
+effect upon the prisoners. They render them as happy as children, and
+make them sincerely grateful towards their chiefs. One other
+remark--they do not like their chiefs to be familiar and too much
+hail-fellow-well-met with them. They wish to respect them, and
+familiarity would prevent this. The prisoners will feel proud, for
+instance, if their chief has a number of decorations; if he has good
+manners; if he is well-considered by a powerful superior; if he is
+severe, but at the same time just, and possesses a consciousness of
+dignity. The convicts prefer such a man to all others. He knows what he
+is worth, and does not insult others. Everything then is for the best.
+
+“You got well skinned for that, I suppose,” asked Kobylin.
+
+“As for being skinned, indeed, there is no denying it. Ali, give me the
+scissors. But, what next; are we not going to play at cards to-night?”
+
+“The cards we drank up long ago,” remarked Vassili. “If we had not sold
+them to get drink they would be here now.”
+
+“If!---- Ifs fetch a hundred roubles a piece on the Moscow market.”
+
+“Well, Luka, what did you get for sticking him?” asked Kobylin.
+
+“It brought me five hundred strokes, my friend. It did indeed. They did
+all but kill me,” said Luka, once more addressing the assembly and
+without heeding his neighbour Kobylin. “When they gave me those five
+hundred strokes, I was treated with great ceremony. I had never before
+been flogged. What a mass of people came to see me! The whole town had
+assembled to see the brigand, the murderer, receive his punishment. How
+stupid the populace is!--I cannot tell you to what extent. Timoshka the
+executioner undressed me and laid me down and cried out, ‘Look out, I am
+going to grill you!’ I waited for the first stroke. I wanted to cry out,
+but could not. It was no use opening my mouth, my voice had gone. When
+he gave me the second stroke--you need not believe me unless you
+please--I did not hear when they counted two. I returned to myself and
+heard them count seventeen. Four times they took me down from the board
+to let me breathe for half-an-hour, and to souse me with cold water. I
+stared at them with my eyes starting from my head, and said to myself,
+‘I shall die here.’”
+
+“But you did not die,” remarked Kobylin innocently.
+
+Luka looked at him with disdain, and every one burst out laughing.
+
+“What an idiot! Is he wrong in the upper storey?” said Luka, as if he
+regretted that he had condescended to speak to such an idiot.
+
+“He is a little mad,” said Vassili on his side.
+
+Although Luka had killed six persons, no one was ever afraid of him in
+the prison. He wished, however, to be looked upon as a terrible person.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+ISAIAH FOMITCH--THE BATH--BAKLOUCHIN.
+
+
+But the Christmas holidays were approaching, and the convicts looked
+forward to them with solemnity. From their mere appearance it was easy
+to see that something extraordinary was about to arrive. Four days
+before the holidays they were to be taken to the bath; every one was
+pleased, and was making preparations. We were to go there after dinner.
+On this occasion there was no work in the afternoon, and of all the
+convicts the one who was most pleased, and showed the greatest activity,
+was a certain Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein, a Jew, of whom I spoke in my
+fifth chapter. He liked to remain stewing in the bath until he became
+unconscious. Whenever I think of the prisoner’s bath, which is a thing
+not to be forgotten, the first thought that presents itself to my memory
+is of that very glorious and eternally to be remembered, Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein, my prison companion. Good Lord! what a strange man he was! I
+have already said a few words about his face. He was fifty years of age,
+his face wrinkled, with frightful scars on his cheeks and on his
+forehead, and the thin, weak body of a fowl. His face expressed
+perpetual confidence in himself, and, I may almost say, perfect
+happiness. I do not think he was at all sorry to be condemned to hard
+labour. He was a jeweller by trade, and as there was no other in the
+town, he had always plenty of work to do, and was more or less well
+paid. He wanted nothing, and lived, so to say, sumptuously, without
+spending all that he gained, for he saved money and lent it out to the
+other convicts at interest. He possessed a tea-urn, a mattress, a
+tea-cup, and a blanket. The Jews of the town did not refuse him their
+patronage. Every Saturday he went under escort to the synagogue (which
+was authorised by the law); and he lived like a fighting cock.
+Nevertheless, he looked forward to the expiration of his term of
+imprisonment in order to get married. He was the most comic mixture of
+simplicity, stupidity, cunning, timidity, and bashfulness; but the
+strangest thing was that the convicts never laughed, or seriously mocked
+him--they only teased him for amusement. Isaiah Fomitch was a subject of
+distraction and amusement for every one.
+
+“We have only one Isaiah Fomitch, we will take care of him,” the
+convicts seemed to say; and as if he understood this, he was proud of
+his own importance. From the account given to me it appeared he had
+entered the convict prison in the most laughable manner (it took place
+before my arrival). Suddenly one evening a report was spread in the
+convict prison that a Jew had been brought there, who at that moment was
+being shaved in the guard-house, and that he was immediately afterwards
+to be taken to the barracks. As there was not a single Jew in the
+prison, the convicts looked forward to his entry with impatience, and
+surrounded him as soon as he passed the great gates. The officer on
+service took him to the civil prison, and pointed out the place where
+his plank bedstead was to be.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch held in his hand a bag containing the things given to
+him, and some other things of his own. He put down his bag, took his
+place at the plank bedstead, and sat down there with his legs crossed,
+without daring to raise his eyes. People were laughing all round him.
+The convicts ridiculed him by reason of his Jewish origin. Suddenly a
+young convict left the others, and came up to him, carrying in his hand
+an old pair of summer trousers, dirty, torn, and mended with old rags.
+He sat down by the side of Isaiah Fomitch, and struck him on the
+shoulder.
+
+“Well, my dear fellow,” said he, “I have been waiting for the last six
+years; look up and tell me how much you will give for this article,”
+holding up his rags before him.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch was so dumbfounded that he did not dare to look at the
+mocking crowd, with mutilated and frightful countenances, now grouped
+around him, and did not speak a single word, so frightened was he. When
+he saw who was speaking to him he shuddered, and began to examine the
+rags carefully. Every one waited to hear his first words.
+
+“Well, cannot you give me a silver rouble for it? It is certainly worth
+that,” said the would-be vendor smiling, and looking towards Isaiah
+Fomitch with a wink.
+
+“A silver rouble! no; but I will give you seven kopecks.”
+
+These were the first words pronounced by Isaiah Fomitch in the convict
+prison. A loud laugh was heard from all sides.
+
+“Seven kopecks! Well, give them to me; you are lucky, you are indeed.
+Look! Take care of the pledge, you answer for it with your head.”
+
+“With three kopecks for interest; that will make ten kopecks you will
+owe me,” said the Jew, at the same time slipping his hand into his
+pocket to get out the sum agreed upon.
+
+“Three kopecks interest--for a year?”
+
+“No, not for a year, for a month.”
+
+“You are a terrible screw, what is your name?”
+
+“Isaiah Fomitch.”
+
+“Well, Isaiah Fomitch, you ought to get on. Good-bye.”
+
+The Jew examined once more the rags on which he had lent seven kopecks,
+folded them up, and put them carefully away in his bag. The convicts
+continued to laugh at him.
+
+In reality every one laughed at him, but, although every prisoner owed
+him money, no one insulted him; and when he saw that every one was well
+disposed towards him, he gave himself haughty airs, but so comic that
+they were at once forgiven.
+
+Luka, who had known many Jews when he was at liberty, often teased him,
+less from malice than for amusement, as one plays with a dog or a
+parrot. Isaiah Fomitch knew this and did not take offence.
+
+“You will see, Jew, how I will flog you.”
+
+“If you give me one blow I will return you ten,” replied Isaiah Fomitch
+valiantly.
+
+“Scurvy Jew.”
+
+“As scurvy as you like; I have in any case plenty of money.”
+
+“Bravo! Isaiah Fomitch. We must take care of you. You are the only Jew
+we have; but they will send you to Siberia all the same.”
+
+“I am already in Siberia.”
+
+“They will send you farther on.”
+
+“Is not the Lord God there?”
+
+“Of course, he is everywhere.”
+
+“Well, then! With the Lord God, and money, one has all that is
+necessary.”
+
+“What a fellow he is!” cries every one around him.
+
+The Jew sees that he is being laughed at, but does not lose courage. He
+gives himself airs. The flattery addressed to him causes him much
+pleasure, and with a high, squealing falsetto, which is heard throughout
+the barracks, he begins to sing, “la, la, la, la,” to an idiotic and
+ridiculous tune; the only song he was heard to sing during his stay at
+the convict prison. When he made my acquaintance, he assured me solemnly
+that it was the song, and the very air, that was sung by 600,000 Jews,
+small and great, when they crossed the Red Sea, and that every Israelite
+was ordered to sing it after a victory gained over an enemy.
+
+The eve of each Saturday the convicts came from the other barracks to
+ours, expressly to see Isaiah Fomitch celebrating his Sabbath. He was so
+vain, so innocently conceited, that this general curiosity flattered him
+immensely. He covered the table in his little corner with a pedantic
+air of importance, opened a book, lighted two candles, muttered some
+mysterious words, and clothed himself in a kind of chasuble, striped,
+and with sleeves, which he preserved carefully at the bottom of his
+trunk. He fastened to his hands leather bracelets, and finally attached
+to his forehead, by means of a ribbon, a little box, which made it seem
+as if a horn were starting from his head. He then began to pray. He read
+in a drawling voice, cried out, spat, and threw himself about with wild
+and comic gestures. All this was prescribed by the ceremonies of his
+religion. There was nothing laughable or strange in it, except the airs
+which Isaiah Fomitch gave himself before us in performing his
+ceremonies. Then he suddenly covered his head with both hands, and began
+to read with many sobs. His tears increased, and in his grief he almost
+lay down upon the book his head with the ark upon it, howling as he did
+so; but suddenly in the midst of his despondent sobs he burst into a
+laugh, and recited with a nasal twang a hymn of triumph, as if he were
+overcome by an excess of happiness.
+
+“Impossible to understand it,” the convicts would sometimes say to one
+another. One day I asked Isaiah Fomitch what these sobs signified, and
+why he passed so suddenly from despair to triumphant happiness. Isaiah
+Fomitch was very pleased when I asked him these questions. He explained
+to me directly that the sobs and tears were provoked by the loss of
+Jerusalem, and that the law ordered the pious Jew to groan and strike
+his breast; but at the moment of his most acute grief he was suddenly to
+remember that a prophecy had foretold the return of the Jews to
+Jerusalem, and he was then to manifest overflowing joy, to sing, to
+laugh, and to recite his prayers with an expression of happiness in his
+voice and on his countenance. This sudden passage from one phase of
+feeling to another delighted Isaiah Fomitch, and he explained to me this
+ingenious prescription of his faith with the greatest satisfaction.
+
+One evening, in the midst of his prayers, the Major entered, followed by
+the officer of the guard and an escort of soldiers. All the prisoners
+got immediately into line before their camp-bedsteads. Isaiah Fomitch
+alone continued to shriek and gesticulate. He knew that his worship was
+authorised, and that no one could interrupt him, so that in howling in
+the presence of the Major he ran no risk. It pleased him to throw
+himself about beneath the eyes of the chief.
+
+The Major approached within a few steps. Isaiah Fomitch turned his back
+to the table, and just in front of the officer began to sing his hymn of
+triumph, gesticulating and drawling out certain syllables. When he came
+to the part where he had to assume an expression of extreme happiness,
+he did so by blinking with his eyes, at the same time laughing and
+nodding his head in the direction of the Major. The latter was at first
+much astonished; then he burst into a laugh, called out, “Idiot!” and
+went away, while the Jew still continued to shriek. An hour later, when
+he had finished, I asked him what he would have done if the Major had
+been wicked enough and foolish enough to lose his temper.
+
+“What Major?”
+
+“What Major! Did you not see him? He was only two steps from you, and
+was looking at you all the time.” But Isaiah Fomitch assured me as
+seriously as possible that he had not seen the Major, for while he was
+saying his prayers he was in such a state of ecstasy that he neither saw
+nor heard anything that was taking place around him.
+
+I can see Isaiah Fomitch wandering about on Saturday throughout the
+prison, endeavouring to do nothing, as the law prescribes to every Jew.
+What improbable anecdotes he told me! Every time he returned from the
+synagogue he always brought me some news of St. Petersburg, and the most
+absurd rumours imaginable from his fellow Jews of the town, who
+themselves had received them at first hand. But I have already spoken
+too much of Isaiah Fomitch.
+
+In the whole town there were only two public baths. The first, kept by a
+Jew, was divided into compartments, for which one paid fifty kopecks. It
+was frequented by the aristocracy of the town.
+
+The other bath, old, dirty, and close, was destined for the people. It
+was there that the convicts were taken. The air was cold and clear. The
+prisoners were delighted to get out of the fortress and have a walk
+through the town. During the walk their laughter and jokes never ceased.
+A platoon of soldiers, with muskets loaded, accompanied us. It was quite
+a sight for the town’s-people. When we had reached our destination, the
+bath was so small that it did not permit us all to enter at once. We
+were divided into two bands, one of which waited in the cold room while
+the other one bathed in the hot one. Even then, so narrow was the room
+that it was difficult for us to understand how half of the convicts
+could stand together in it.
+
+Petroff kept close to me. He remained by my side without my having
+begged him to do so, and offered to rub me down. Baklouchin, a convict
+of the special section, offered me at the same time his services. I
+recollect this prisoner, who was called the “Sapper,” as the gayest and
+most agreeable of all my companions. We had become intimate friends.
+Petroff helped me to undress, because I was generally a long time
+getting my things off, not being yet accustomed to the operation; and it
+was almost as cold in the dressing-room as outside the doors.
+
+It is very difficult for a convict who is still a novice to get his
+things off, for he must know how to undo the leather straps which fasten
+on the chains. These leather straps are buckled over the shirt, just
+beneath the ring which encloses the leg. One pair of straps costs sixty
+kopecks, and each convict is obliged to get himself a pair, for it would
+be impossible to walk without their assistance. The ring does not
+enclose the leg too tightly. One can pass the finger between the iron
+and the flesh; but the ring rubs against the calf, so that in a single
+day the convict who walks without leather straps, gets his skin broken.
+
+To take off the straps presents no difficulty. It is not the same with
+the clothes. To get the trousers off is in itself a prodigious
+operation, and the same may be said of the shirt whenever it has to be
+changed. The first who gave us lessons in this art was Koreneff, a
+former chief of brigands, condemned to be chained up for five years. The
+convicts are very skilful at the work, and do it readily.
+
+I gave a few kopecks to Petroff to buy soap and a bunch of the twigs
+with which one rubs oneself in the bath. Bits of soap were given to the
+convicts, but they were not larger than pieces of two kopecks. The soap
+was sold in the dressing-room, as well as mead, cakes of white flour,
+and boiling water; for each convict received but one pailful, according
+to the agreement made between the proprietor of the bath and the
+administration of the prison. The convicts who wished to make themselves
+thoroughly clean, could for two kopecks buy another pailful, which the
+proprietor handed to them through a window pierced in the wall for that
+purpose. As soon as I was undressed, Petroff took me by the arm and
+observed to me that I should find it difficult to walk with my chains.
+
+“Drag them up on to your calves,” he said to me, holding me by the arms
+at the same time, as if I were an old man. I was ashamed at his care,
+and assured him that I could walk well enough by myself, but he did not
+believe me. He paid me the same attention that one gives to an awkward
+child. Petroff was not a servant in any sense of the word. If I had
+offended him, he would have known how to deal with me. I had promised
+him nothing for his assistance, nor had he asked me for anything. What
+inspired him with so much solicitude for me?
+
+Represent to yourself a room of twelve feet long by as many broad, in
+which a hundred men are all crowded together, or at least eighty, for we
+were in all two hundred divided into two sections. The steam blinded us;
+the sweat, the dirt, the want of space, were such that we did not know
+where to put a foot down. I was frightened and wished to go out. Petroff
+hastened to reassure me. With great trouble we succeeded in raising
+ourselves on to the benches, by passing over the heads of the convicts,
+whom we begged to bend down, in order to let us pass; but all the
+benches were already occupied. Petroff informed me that I must buy a
+place, and at once entered into negotiations with the convict who was
+near the window. For a kopeck this man consented to cede me his place.
+After receiving the money, which Petroff held tight in his hand, and
+which he had prudently provided himself with beforehand, the man crept
+just beneath me into a dark and dirty corner. There was there, at least,
+half an inch of filth; even the places above the benches were occupied,
+the convicts swarmed everywhere. As for the floor there was not a place
+as big as the palm of the hand which was not occupied by the convicts.
+They sent the water in spouts out of their pails. Those who were
+standing up washed themselves pail in hand, and the dirty water ran all
+down their body to fall on the shaved heads of those who were sitting
+down. On the upper bench, and the steps which led to it, were heaped
+together other convicts who washed themselves more thoroughly, but these
+were in small number. The populace does not care to wash with soap and
+water, it prefers stewing in a horrible manner, and then inundating
+itself with cold water. That is how the common people take their bath.
+On the floor could be seen fifty bundles of rods rising and falling at
+the same time, the holders were whipping themselves into a state of
+intoxication. The steam became thicker and thicker every minute, so that
+what one now felt was not a warm but a burning sensation, as from
+boiling pitch. The convicts shouted and howled to the accompaniment of
+the hundred chains shaking on the floor. Those who wished to pass from
+one place to another got their chains mixed up with those of their
+neighbours, and knocked against the heads of the men who were lower down
+than they. Then there were volleys of oaths as those who fell dragged
+down the ones whose chains had become entangled in theirs. They were all
+in a state of intoxication of wild exultation. Cries and shrieks were
+heard on all sides. There was much crowding and crushing at the window
+of the dressing-room through which the hot water was delivered, and
+much of it got spilt over the heads of those who were seated on the
+floor before it arrived at its destination. We seemed to be fully at
+liberty; and yet from time to time, behind the window of the
+dressing-room, or through the open door, could be seen the moustached
+face of a soldier, with his musket at his feet, watching that no serious
+disorder took place.
+
+The shaved heads of the convicts, and their red bodies, which the steam
+made the colour of blood, seemed more monstrous than ever. On their
+backs, made scarlet by the steam, stood out in striking relief the scars
+left by the whips and the rods, made long before, but so thoroughly that
+the flesh seemed to have been quite recently torn. Strange scars. A
+shudder passed through me at the mere sight of them. Again the volume of
+steam increased, and the bath-room was now covered with a thick, burning
+cloud, covering agitation and cries. From this cloud stood out torn
+backs, shaved heads; and, to complete the picture, Isaiah Fomitch
+howling with joy on the highest of the benches. He was saturating
+himself with steam. Any other man would have fainted away, but no
+temperature is too high for him; he engages the services of a rubber for
+a kopeck, but after a few moments the latter is unable to continue,
+throws away his bunch of twigs, and runs to inundate himself with cold
+water. Isaiah Fomitch does not lose courage, he runs to hire a second
+rubber, then a third; on these occasions he thinks nothing of expense,
+and changes his rubber four or five times. “He stews well, the gallant
+Isaiah Fomitch,” cry the convicts from below. The Jew feels that he goes
+beyond all the others, he has beaten them; he triumphs with his hoarse
+falsetto voice, and sings out his favourite air which rises above the
+general hubbub. It seemed to me that if ever we met in hell we should be
+reminded of the place where we then were. I could not resist a wish to
+communicate this idea to Petroff. He looked all round him, but made no
+answer.
+
+I wished to buy a place for him on the bench by my side; but he sat
+down at my feet and declared that he felt quite at his ease. Baklouchin
+meanwhile bought us some hot water which he would bring to us as soon as
+we wanted it. Petroff offered to clean me from head to foot, and he
+begged me to go through the preliminary stewing process. I could not
+make up my mind to it. At last he rubbed me all over with soap. I wished
+to make him understand that I could wash myself, but it was no use
+contradicting him and I gave myself up to him.
+
+When he had done with me he took me back to the dressing-room, holding
+me up, and telling me at each step to take care, as if I had been made
+of porcelain. He helped me to put on my clothes, and when he had
+finished his kindly work he rushed back to the bath to have a thorough
+stewing.
+
+When we got back to the barracks I offered him a glass of tea, which he
+did not refuse. He drank it and thanked me. I wished to go to the
+expense of a glass of vodka in his honour, and I succeeded in getting it
+on the spot. Petroff was exceedingly pleased. He swallowed his vodka
+with a murmur of satisfaction, declared that I had restored him to life,
+and then suddenly rushed to the kitchen, as if the people who were
+talking there could not decide anything important without him.
+
+Now another man came up for a talk. This was Baklouchin, of whom I have
+already spoken, and whom I had also invited to take tea.
+
+I never knew a man of a more agreeable disposition than Baklouchin. It
+must be admitted that he never forgave a wrong, and that he often got
+into quarrels. He could not, above all, endure people interfering with
+his affairs. He knew, in a word, how to take care of himself; but his
+quarrels never lasted long, and I believe that all the convicts liked
+him. Wherever he went he was well received. Even in the town he was
+looked upon as the most amusing man in the world. He was a man of lofty
+stature, thirty years old, with a frank, determined countenance, and
+rather good-looking, with his tuft of hair on his chin. He possessed the
+art of changing his face in such a comic manner by imitating the first
+person he happened to see, that the people around him were constantly in
+a roar. He was a professed joker, but he never allowed himself to be
+slighted by those who did not enjoy his fun. Accordingly, no one spoke
+disparagingly of him. He was full of life and fire. He made my
+acquaintance at the very beginning of my imprisonment, and related to me
+his military career, when he was a sapper in the Engineers, where he had
+been placed as a favour by people of influence. He put a number of
+questions to me about St. Petersburg; he even read books when he came to
+take tea with me. He amused the whole company by relating how roughly
+Lieutenant K---- had that morning handled the Major. He told me,
+moreover, with a satisfied air, as he took his seat by my side, that we
+should probably have a theatrical representation in the prison. The
+convicts proposed to get up a play during the Christmas holidays. The
+necessary actors were found, and, little by little, the scenery was
+prepared. Some persons in the town had promised to lend women’s clothes
+for the performance. Some hopes were even entertained of obtaining,
+through the medium of an officer’s servant, a uniform with epaulettes,
+provided only the Major did not take it into his head to forbid the
+performance, as he had done the previous year. He was at that time in
+ill-humour through having lost at cards, and he had been annoyed at
+something that had taken place in the prison. Accordingly, in a fit of
+ill-humour, he had forbidden the performance. It was possible, however,
+that this year he would not prevent it. Baklouchin was in a state of
+exultation. It could be seen that he would be one of the principal
+supporters of the meditated theatre. I made up my mind to be present at
+the performance. The ingenuous joy which Baklouchin manifested in
+speaking of the undertaking was quite touching. From whispering, we
+gradually got to talk of the matter quite openly. He told me, among
+other things, that he had not served at St. Petersburg alone. He had
+been sent to R---- with the rank of non-commissioned officer in a
+garrison battalion.
+
+“From there they sent me on here,” added Baklouchin.
+
+“And why?” I asked him.
+
+“Why? You would never guess, Alexander Petrovitch. Because I was in
+love.”
+
+“Come now. A man is not exiled for that,” I said, with a laugh.
+
+“I should have added,” continued Baklouchin, “that it made me kill a
+German with a pistol-shot. Was it worth while to send me to hard labour
+for killing a German? Only think.”
+
+“How did it happen? Tell me the story. It must be a strange one.”
+
+“An amusing story indeed, Alexander Petrovitch.”
+
+“So much the better. Tell me.”
+
+“You wish me to do so? Well, then, listen.”
+
+And he told me the story of his murder. It was not “amusing,” but it was
+indeed strange.
+
+“This is how it happened,” began Baklouchin; “I had been sent to Riga, a
+fine, handsome city, which has only one fault, there are too many
+Germans there. I was still a young man, and I had a good character with
+my officers. I wore my cap cocked on the side of my head, and passed my
+time in the most agreeable manner. I made love to the German girls. One
+of them, named Luisa, pleased me very much. She and her aunt were
+getters-up of fine linen. The old woman was a true caricature; but she
+had money. First of all I merely passed under the young girl’s windows;
+but I soon made her acquaintance. Luisa spoke Russian well enough,
+though with a slight accent. She was charming. I never saw any one like
+her. I was most pressing in my advances; but she only replied that she
+would preserve her innocence, that as a wife she might prove worthy of
+me. She was an affectionate, smiling girl, and wonderfully neat. In
+fact, I assure you, I never saw any one like her. She herself had
+suggested that I should marry her, and how was I not to marry her?
+Suddenly Luisa did not come to her appointment. This happened once, then
+twice, then a third time. I sent her a letter, but she did not reply.
+‘What is to be done?’ I said to myself. If she had been deceiving me she
+could easily have taken me in. She could have answered my letter and
+come all the same to the appointment; but she was incapable of
+falsehood. She had simply broken off with me. ‘This is a trick of the
+aunt,’ I said to myself. I was afraid to go to her house.
+
+“Even though she was aware of our engagement, we acted as if she were
+ignorant of it. I wrote a fine letter in which I said to Luisa, ‘If you
+don’t come, I will come to your aunt’s for you.’ She was afraid and
+came. Then she began to weep, and told me that a German named Schultz, a
+distant relation of theirs, a clockmaker by trade, and of a certain age,
+but rich, had shown a wish to marry her--in order to make her happy, as
+he said, and that he himself might not remain without a wife in his old
+age. He had loved her a long time, so she told me, and had been
+nourishing this idea for years, but he had kept it a secret, and had
+never ventured to speak out. ‘You see, Sasha,’ she said to me, ‘that it
+is a question of my happiness; for he is rich, and would you prevent my
+happiness?’ I looked her in the face, she wept, embraced me, clasped me
+in her arms.
+
+“‘Well, she is quite right,’ I said to myself, ‘what good is there in
+marrying a soldier--even a non-commissioned officer? Come, farewell,
+Luisa. God protect you. I have no right to prevent your happiness.’
+
+“‘And what sort of a man is he? Is he good-looking?’
+
+“‘No, he is old, and he has such a long nose.’
+
+“She here burst into a fit of laughter. I left her. ‘It was my destiny,’
+I said to myself. The next day I passed by Schultz’ shop (she had told
+me where he lived). I looked through the window and saw a German, who
+was arranging a watch, forty-five years of age, an aquiline nose,
+swollen eyes, a dress-coat with a very high collar. I spat with contempt
+as I looked at him. At that moment I was ready to break the shop
+windows, but ‘What is the use of it?’ I said to myself; ‘there is
+nothing more to be done: it is over, all over.’ I got back to the
+barracks as the night was falling, and stretched myself out on my bed,
+and--will you believe it, Alexander Petrovitch?--began to sob--yes, to
+sob. One day passed, then a second, then a third. I saw Luisa no more. I
+had learned, however, from an old woman (she was also a washerwoman, and
+the girl I loved used sometimes to visit her), that this German knew of
+our relations, and that for that reason he had made up his mind to marry
+her as soon as possible, otherwise he would have waited two years
+longer. He had made Luisa swear that she would see me no more. It
+appeared that on account of me he had refused to loosen his
+purse-strings, and kept Luisa and her aunt very close. Perhaps he would
+yet change his idea, for he was not very resolute. The old woman told me
+that he had invited them to take coffee with him the next day, a Sunday,
+and that another relation, a former shopkeeper, now very poor, and an
+assistant in some liquor store, would also come. When I found that the
+business was to be settled on Sunday, I was so furious that I could not
+recover my cold blood, and the following day I did nothing but reflect.
+I believe I could have devoured that German. On Sunday morning I had not
+come to any decision. As soon as the service was over I ran out, got
+into my great-coat, and went to the house of this German. I thought I
+should find them all there. Why I went to the German, and what I meant
+to say to him, I did not know myself.
+
+“I slipped a pistol into my pocket to be ready for everything; a little
+pistol which was not worth a curse, with an old-fashioned lock--a thing
+I had used when I was a boy, and which was really fit for nothing. I
+loaded it, however, because I thought they would try to kick me out, and
+that the German would insult me, in which case I would pull out my
+pistol to frighten them all. I arrived. There was no one on the
+staircase; they were all in the work-room. No servant. The one girl who
+waited upon them was absent. I crossed the shop and saw that the door
+was closed--an old door fastened from the inside. My heart beat; I
+stopped and listened. They were speaking German. I broke open the door
+with a kick. I looked round. The table was laid; there was a large
+coffee-pot on it, with a spirit lamp underneath, and a plate of
+biscuits. On a tray there was a small decanter of brandy, herrings,
+sausages, and a bottle of some wine. Luisa and her aunt, both in their
+Sunday best, were seated on a sofa. Opposite them, the German was
+exhibiting himself on a chair, got up like a bridegroom, and in his coat
+with the high collar, and with his hair carefully combed. On the other
+side, there was another German, old, fat, and gray. He was taking no
+part in the conversation. When I entered, Luisa turned very pale. The
+aunt sprang up with a bound and sat down again. The German became angry.
+What a rage he was in! He got up, and walking towards me, said:
+
+“‘What do you want?’
+
+“I should have lost my self-possession if anger had not supported me.
+
+“‘What do I want? Is this the way to receive a guest? Why do you not
+offer him something to drink? I have come to pay you a visit.’
+
+“The German reflected a moment, and then said, ‘Sit down.’
+
+“I sat down.
+
+“‘Here is some vodka. Help yourself, I beg.’
+
+“‘And let it be good,’ I cried, getting more and more into a rage.
+
+“‘It is good.’
+
+“I was enraged to see him looking at me from top to toe. The most
+frightful part of it was, that Luisa was looking on. I took a drink and
+said to him:
+
+“‘Look here, German, what business have you to speak rudely to me? Let
+us be better acquainted. I have come to see you as friends.’
+
+“‘I cannot be your friend,’ he replied. ‘You are a private soldier.’
+
+“Then I lost all self-command.
+
+“‘Oh, you German! You sausage-seller! You know how much you are in my
+power. Look here; do you wish me to break your head with this pistol?’
+
+“I drew out my pistol, got up, and struck him on the forehead. The
+women were more dead than alive; they were afraid to breathe. The eldest
+of the two men, quite white, was trembling like a leaf.
+
+“The German seemed much astonished. But he soon recovered himself.
+
+“‘I am not afraid of you,’ he said, ‘and I beg of you, as a well-bred
+man, to put an end to this pleasantry. I am not afraid of you!’
+
+“‘You are afraid! You dare not move while this pistol is presented at
+you.’
+
+“‘You dare not do such a thing!’ he cried.
+
+“‘And why should I not dare?’
+
+“‘Because you would be severely punished.’
+
+“May the devil take that idiot of a German! If he had not urged me on,
+he would have been alive now.
+
+“‘So you think I dare not?’
+
+“‘No.’
+
+“‘I dare not, you think?’
+
+“‘You would not dare!’
+
+“‘Wouldn’t I, sausage-maker?’ I fired the pistol, and down he sank on
+his chair. The others uttered shrieks. I put back my pistol in my
+pocket, and when I returned to the fortress, threw it among some weeds
+near the principal entrance.
+
+“Inside the barracks I laid on my bed, and said to myself, ‘I shall be
+taken away soon.’ One hour passed, then another, but I was not arrested.
+
+“Towards evening I felt so sad, I went out at all hazards to see Luisa;
+I passed before the house of the clockmaker’s. There were a number of
+people there, including the police. I ran on to the old woman’s and
+said:
+
+“‘Call Luisa!’
+
+“I had only a moment to wait. She came immediately, and threw herself on
+my neck in tears.
+
+“‘It is my fault,’ she said. ‘I should not have listened to my aunt.’
+
+“She then told me that her aunt, immediately after the scene, had gone
+back home. She was in such a fright that she fell and did not speak a
+word; she had uttered nothing. On the contrary, she ordered her niece
+to be as silent as herself.
+
+“‘No one has seen her since,’ said Luisa.
+
+“The clockmaker had previously sent his servant away, for he was afraid
+of her. She was jealous, and would have scratched his eyes out had she
+known that he wished to get married.
+
+“There were no workmen in the house, he had sent them all away; he had
+himself prepared the coffee and collation. As for the relation, who had
+scarcely spoken a word all his life, he took his hat, and, without
+opening his mouth, went away.
+
+“‘He is quite sure to be silent,’ added Luisa.
+
+“So, indeed, he was. For two weeks no one arrested me nor suspected me
+the least in the world.
+
+“You need not believe me unless you choose, Alexander Petrovitch.
+
+“These two weeks were the happiest in my life. I saw Luisa every day.
+And how much she had become attached to me!
+
+“She said to me through her tears: ‘If you are exiled, I will go with
+you. I will leave everything to follow you.’
+
+“I thought of making away with myself, so much had she moved me; but
+after two weeks I was arrested. The old man and the aunt had agreed to
+denounce me.”
+
+“But,” I interrupted, “Baklouchin, for that they would only have given
+you from ten to twelve years’ hard labour, and in the civil section; yet
+you are in the special section. How does that happen?”
+
+“That is another affair,” said Baklouchin. “When I was taken before the
+Council of War, the captain appointed to conduct the case began by
+insulting me, and calling me names before the Tribunal. I could not
+stand it, and shouted out to him: ‘Why do you insult me? Don’t you see,
+you scoundrel! that you are only looking at yourself in the glass?’
+
+“This brought a new charge against me. I was tried a second time, and
+for the two things was condemned to four thousand strokes, and to the
+special section. When I was taken out to receive my punishment in the
+_Green Street_, the captain was at the same time sent away. He had been
+degraded from his rank, and was despatched to the Caucasus as a private
+soldier. Good-bye, Alexander Petrovitch. Don’t fail to come to our
+performance.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS
+
+
+The holidays were approaching. On the eve of the great day the convicts
+scarcely ever went to work. Those who had been assigned to the sewing
+workshops, and a few others, went to work as usual; but they went back
+almost immediately to the convict prison, separately, or in parties.
+After dinner no one worked. From the early morning the greater part of
+the convicts were occupied with their own affairs, and not with those of
+the administration. Some were making arrangements for bringing in
+spirits, while others were seeking permission to see their friends, or
+to collect small accounts due to them for the work they had already
+executed. Baklouchin, and the convicts who were to take part in the
+performance, were endeavouring to persuade some of their acquaintances,
+nearly all officers’ servants, to procure for them the necessary
+costumes. Some of them came and went with a business-like air, solely
+because others were really occupied. They had no money to receive, and
+yet seemed to expect a payment. Every one, in short, seemed to be
+looking for a change of some kind. Towards evening the old soldiers,
+who executed the convicts’ commissions, brought them all kinds of
+victuals--meat, sucking-pigs, and geese. Many prisoners, even the most
+simple and most economical, after saving up their kopecks throughout the
+year, thought they ought to spend some of them that day, so as to
+celebrate Christmas Eve in a worthy manner. The day afterwards was for
+the convicts a still greater festival, one to which they had a right, as
+it was recognised by law. The prisoners could not be sent to work that
+day. There were not three days like it in all the year.
+
+And, moreover, what recollections must have been agitating the souls of
+those reprobates at the approach of such a solemn day! The common people
+from their childhood kept the great festival in their memory. They must
+have remembered with anguish and torments these days which, work being
+laid aside, are passed in the bosom of the family. The respect of the
+convicts for that day had something imposing about it. The drunkards
+were not at all numerous; nearly every one was serious, and, so to say,
+preoccupied, though they had for the most part nothing to do. Even those
+who feasted most preserved a serious air. Laughter seemed to be
+forbidden. A sort of intolerant susceptibility reigned throughout the
+prison; and if any one interfered with the general repose, even
+involuntarily, he was soon put in his proper place, with cries and
+oaths. He was condemned as though he had been wanting in respect to the
+festival itself.
+
+This disposition of the convicts was remarkable, and even touching.
+Besides the innate veneration they have for this great day, they foresee
+that in observing the festival they are in communion with the rest of
+the world; that they are not altogether reprobates lost and cast off by
+society. The usual rejoicings took place in the convict prison as well
+as outside. They felt all that. I saw it, and understood it myself.
+
+Akim Akimitch had made great preparations for the festival. He had no
+family recollections, being an orphan, born in a strange house, and put
+into the army at the age of fifteen. He could never have experienced any
+great joys, having always lived regularly and uniformly in the fear of
+infringing the rules imposed upon him, nor was he very religious; for
+his acquired formality had stifled in him all human feeling, all
+passions and likings, good or bad. He accordingly prepared to keep
+Christmas without exciting himself about it. He was saddened by no
+painful, useless recollection. He did everything with the punctuality
+imposed upon him in the execution of his duties, and in order once for
+all to get through the ceremony in a becoming manner. Moreover, he did
+not care to reflect upon the importance of the day, had never troubled
+his brain about it, even while he was executing his prescribed duties
+with religious minuteness. If he had been ordered the day following to
+do contrary to what he had done the evening before he would have done it
+with equal submission. Once in life, once, and once only, he had wished
+to act by his own impulse--and he had been sent to hard labour for it.
+
+This lesson had not been lost upon him, although it was written that he
+was never to understand his fault. He had yet become impressed with this
+salutary moral principle: never to reason in any matter because his mind
+was not equal to the task of judging. Blindly devoted to ceremonies, he
+looked with respect at the sucking-pig which he had stuffed with
+millet-seed, and which he had roasted himself (for he had some culinary
+skill), just as if it had not been an ordinary sucking-pig which could
+have been bought and roasted at any time, but a particular kind of
+animal born specially for Christmas Day. Perhaps he had been accustomed
+from his tender infancy to see that day a sucking-pig on the table, and
+he may have concluded that a sucking-pig was indispensable for the
+proper celebration of the festival. I am certain that if by ill-luck he
+had not eaten this particular kind of meat on that day, he would have
+been troubled with remorse all his life for not having done his duty.
+Until Christmas morning he wore his old vest and his old trousers, which
+had long been threadbare. I then learned that he kept carefully in his
+box his new clothes which had been given to him four months before, and
+that he had not put them on once, in order that he might wear them for
+the first time on Christmas Day. He did so. The evening before he took
+his new clothes out of his trunk, unfolded, examined them, cleaned them,
+blew on them to remove the dust, and when he was convinced that they
+were perfect, probably tried them on. The dress became him perfectly;
+all the different garments suited one another. The waistcoat buttoned up
+to the neck, the collar, straight and stiff like cardboard, kept his
+chin in its proper place. There was a military cut about the dress; and
+Akim Akimitch, as he wore it, smiled with satisfaction, turning himself
+round and round, not without swagger, before a little mirror adorned
+with a gilt border.
+
+One of the waistcoat-buttons alone seemed out of place; Akim Akimitch
+remarked it, and at once set it right. He tried on the vest again and
+found it irreproachable. Then he folded up his things as before, and
+with a satisfied mind locked them up in his box until the next day. His
+skull was sufficiently shaved; but, after careful examination, Akim
+Akimitch came to the conclusion that it was not in good condition, his
+hair had imperceptibly sprung up. He accordingly went immediately to the
+“Major” to be properly shaved according to the rules. In reality no one
+would have dreamed of looking at him next day, but he was acting
+conscientiously in order to fulfil all his duties. This care lest the
+smallest button, the least thread of an epaulette, the slightest string
+of a tassel should go wrong, was engraved in his mind as an imperious
+duty, and in his heart as the image of the most perfect order that could
+possibly be attained. As one of the “old hands” in the barracks, he saw
+that hay was brought and strewed about on the floor; the same thing was
+done in the other barracks. I do not know why, but hay was always
+strewed on the ground at Christmas time.
+
+As soon as Akim Akimitch had finished his work he said his prayers,
+stretched himself on his bed, and went to sleep, with the sleep of a
+child, in order to wake up as early as possible the next day. The other
+convicts did the same. It must be added that all of them went to bed,
+but sooner than usual. They gave up their ordinary evening work that
+day. As for playing cards, no one would have dared even to speak of such
+a thing; every one was anxiously expecting the next morning.
+
+At last this morning arrived. At an early hour, even before it was
+light, the drum was sounded, and the under officer, whose duty it was to
+count the convicts, wished them a happy Christmas. The prisoners
+answered him in an affable and amiable tone by expressing a like wish.
+Akim Akimitch, and many others, who had their geese and their
+sucking-pigs, went to the kitchen, after saying their prayers, in a
+hurried manner to see where their victuals were and how they were being
+cooked.
+
+Through the little windows of our barracks, half hidden by the snow and
+the ice, could be seen, flaring in the darkness, the bright fire of the
+two kitchens where six stoves had been lighted. In the court-yard, where
+it was still dark, the convicts, each with a half pelisse round his
+shoulders, or perhaps fully dressed, were hurrying towards the kitchen.
+Some of them, meanwhile--a very small number--had already visited the
+drink-sellers. They were the impatient ones, but they behaved
+becomingly, possibly much better than on ordinary days; neither quarrels
+nor insults were heard, every one understood that it was a great day, a
+great festival. The convicts went even to visit the other barracks in
+order to wish the inmates a happy Christmas; that day a sort of
+friendship seemed to exist between them all. I will remark in passing
+that the convicts have scarcely ever any intimate friendships. It was
+very rare to see a man on confidential terms with any other man, as, in
+the outer world. We were generally harsh and abrupt in our mutual
+relations. With some rare exceptions this was the general tone adopted
+and maintained.
+
+I went out of the barracks like the others. It was beginning to get
+late. The stars were paling, a light, icy mist was rising from the
+earth, and spirals of smoke were ascending in curls from the chimneys.
+Several convicts whom I met wished me, with affability, a happy
+Christmas. I thanked them and returned their wishes. Some of them had
+never spoken to me before.
+
+Near the kitchen, a convict from the military barracks, with his
+sheepskin on his shoulder, came up to me. Recognising me, he called out
+from the middle of the court-yard, “Alexander Petrovitch.” He ran
+towards me. I waited for him. He was a young fellow, with a round face
+and soft eyes, and not at all communicative as a rule. He had not spoken
+to me since my arrival, and seemed never to have noticed me. I did not
+know on my side what his name was. When he came up, he remained planted
+before me, smiling with a vacuous smile, but with a happy expression of
+countenance.
+
+“What do you want?” I asked, not without astonishment.
+
+He remained standing before me, still smiling and staring, but without
+replying to my question.
+
+“Why, it is Christmas Day,” he muttered.
+
+He understood that he had nothing more to say, and now hastened into the
+kitchen.
+
+I must add that, after this we scarcely ever met, and that we never
+spoke to one another again.
+
+Round the flaming stoves of the kitchen the convicts were rubbing and
+pushing against one another. Every one was watching his own property.
+The cooks were preparing the dinner, which was to take place a little
+earlier than usual. No one began to eat before the time, though a good
+many wished to do so; but it was necessary to be well-behaved before the
+others. We were waiting for the priest, and the fast preceding Christmas
+would not be at an end until his arrival.
+
+It was not yet perfectly light, when the corporal was already heard
+shouting out from behind the principal gate of the prison:
+
+“The kitchen; the kitchen.”
+
+These calls were repeated without interruption for about two hours. The
+cooks were wanted in order to receive gifts brought from all parts of
+the town in enormous numbers; loaves of white bread, scones, rusks,
+pancakes, and pastry of various kinds. I do not think there was a
+shop-keeper in the whole town who did not send something to the
+“unfortunates.” Amongst these gifts there were some magnificent ones,
+including a good many cakes of the finest flour. There were also some
+very poor ones, such as rolls worth two kopecks a piece, and a couple of
+brown rolls, covered lightly over with sour cream. These were the
+offerings of the poor to the poor, on which a last kopeck had often been
+spent.
+
+All these gifts were accepted with equal gratitude, without reference to
+the value or the giver. The convicts, on receiving the offerings, took
+off their caps and thanked the donors with low bows, wishing them a
+happy Christmas, and then carried the things to the kitchen.
+
+When a number of loaves and cakes had been collected, the elders of each
+barrack were called, and it was for them to divide the whole in equal
+portions among all the sections. The division excited neither protest
+nor annoyance. It was made honestly, equitably. Akim Akimitch, helped by
+another prisoner, divided between the convicts of our barracks the share
+assigned to us, and gave to each of us what came to him. Every one was
+satisfied. No objection was made by any one. There was not the least
+manifestation of envy, and it occurred to no one to deceive another.
+
+When Akim Akimitch had finished at the kitchen, he proceeded religiously
+to dress himself, and did so with a solemn air. He buttoned up his
+waistcoat button by button, in the most punctilious manner. Then, when
+he had got his new clothes on, he went to pray, which occupied him a
+considerable time. Numbers of convicts fulfilled their religious duties,
+but these were for the most part old men. The young men scarcely ever
+prayed. The most they did was to make the sign of the cross when they
+rose from table, and that happened only on festival days.
+
+Akim Akimitch came up to me as soon as he had finished his prayer, to
+express to me the usual good wishes. I invited him to have some tea, and
+he returned my politeness by offering me some of his sucking-pig. After
+some time Petroff came up to address to me the usual compliments. I
+think he had been already drinking, and although he seemed to have much
+to say, he scarcely spoke. He stood up before me for some seconds, and
+then went back to the kitchen. The priest was now expected in the
+military section of the barracks. This section was not constructed like
+the others. The camp-bedsteads were arranged all along the wall, and not
+in the middle of the room as in all the others, so that it was the only
+one in which the middle was not obstructed. It had been probably
+arranged in this manner so that in case of necessity it might be easier
+to assemble the convicts. A small table had been prepared in the middle
+of the room, and a holy image placed upon it, before which burned a
+little lamp.
+
+At last the priest arrived, with the cross and holy water. He prayed and
+chanted before the image, and then turned towards the convicts, who one
+after the other came and kissed the cross. The priest then walked
+through all the barracks, sprinkling them with holy water. When he got
+to the kitchen he praised the bread of the convict prison, which had
+quite a reputation in town. The convicts at once expressed a desire to
+send him two loaves of new bread, still hot, which an old soldier was
+ordered to take to his house forthwith. The convicts walked back after
+the cross with the same respect as they had received it. Almost
+immediately afterwards, the Major and the Commandant arrived. The
+Commandant was liked, and even respected. He made the tour of the
+barracks in company with the Major, wished the convicts a happy
+Christmas, went into the kitchen, and tasted the cabbage soup. It was
+excellent that day. Each convict was entitled to nearly a pound of meat,
+besides which there was millet-seed in it, and certainly the butter had
+not been spared. The Major saw the Commandant to the door, and then
+ordered the convicts to begin dinner. Each endeavoured not to be under
+the Major’s eyes. They did not like his spiteful, inquisitorial look
+from behind his spectacles as he wandered from right to left, seeking
+apparently some disorder to repress, some crime to punish.
+
+We dined. Akim Akimitch’s sucking-pig was admirably roasted. I could
+never understand how, five minutes after the Major left, there was a
+mass of drunken prisoners, whereas as long as he remained every one was
+perfectly calm. Red, radiant faces were now numerous, and the balalaiki
+[Russian banjoes] soon appeared. Then came the little Pole, playing his
+violin, a convivial prisoner having engaged him for the whole day to
+play lively dance-tunes. The conversation became more animated and more
+noisy, but the dinner ended without great disorders. Every one had had
+enough. Some of the old men, serious-minded convicts, went immediately
+to bed. So did Akim Akimitch, who probably thought it was a duty to go
+to sleep after dinner on festival days.
+
+The “old believer” from Starodoub, after having slumbered a little,
+climbed up on to the top of the stove, opened his book, and prayed the
+entire day until late in the evening without interruption. The spectacle
+of so shameless an orgie was painful to him, he said. All the
+Circassians left the table. They looked with curiosity, but with a touch
+of disgust, at this drunken society. I met Nourra.
+
+“Aman, aman,” he said, with a burst of honest indignation, and shaking
+his head. “What an offence to Allah!” Isaiah Fomitch lighted, with an
+arrogant and obstinate air, a candle in his favourite corner, and went
+to work in order to show that in his eyes this was no holiday. Here and
+there card parties were arranged. The convicts did not fear the old
+soldiers, but men were placed on the look-out in case the under officer
+should suddenly come in. He made a point, however, of seeing nothing.
+The officer of the guard made altogether three rounds. The prisoners, if
+they were drunk, hid themselves at once. The cards disappeared in the
+twinkling of an eye. I fancy that he had made up his mind not to notice
+any contraventions of an unimportant kind. Drunkenness was not an
+offence that day. Little by little every one became more or less gay.
+Then there were some quarrels. The greater number of the prisoners,
+however, remained calm, amusing themselves with the spectacle of those
+who were intoxicated. Some of these drank without limit.
+
+Gazin was triumphant. He walked about with a self-satisfied air, by the
+side of his camp bedstead, beneath which he had concealed his spirits,
+previously buried beneath the snow behind the barracks, in a secret
+place. He smiled knowingly when he saw customers arrive in crowds. He
+was perfectly calm. He had drunk nothing at all; for it was his
+intention to regale himself the last day of the holidays, after he had
+emptied the pockets of the other prisoners. Throughout the barracks the
+drunkenness was becoming infernal. Singing was heard, and the songs were
+giving way to tears. Some of the prisoners walked about in bands,
+sheepskin on shoulder, striking with a haughty air the strings of their
+balalaiki. A chorus of from eight to ten men had been formed in the
+special section. The singing here was excellent, with its accompaniments
+of balalaiki and guitars.
+
+Songs of a truly popular kind were rare. I remember one which was
+admirably sung:
+
+
+     Yesterday, I, a young girl,
+     Went to the feast.
+
+
+A variation was introduced previously unknown to me. At the end of the
+song these lines were added:
+
+
+     At my house, the house of a young girl,
+     Everything is in order.
+     I have washed the spoons,
+     I have turned out the cabbage-soup,
+     I have wiped down the panels of the door,
+     I have cooked the patties.
+
+
+What they chiefly sang were prison songs; one of them, called “As it
+happened,” was very humorous. It related how a man amused himself, and
+lived like a prince until he was sent to the convict prison, where he
+fared very differently. Another song, only too popular, set forth how
+the hero of it had formerly possessed capital, but had now nothing but
+captivity. Here is a true convict’s song:
+
+
+     The day breaks in the heavens,
+     We are waked up by the drum.
+     The old man opens the door,
+     The warder comes and calls us.
+     No one sees us behind the prison walls,
+     Nor how we live in this place.
+     But God, the Heavenly Creator, is with us
+     He will not let us perish.
+
+
+Another still more melancholy, but with a superb melody, was sung to
+tame and incorrect words. I can remember a few of the verses:
+
+
+     My eyes no more will see the land,
+     Where I was born;
+     To suffer torments undeserved,
+     Will be my punishment.
+     The owl will shriek upon the roof,
+     And raise the echoes of the forest.
+     My heart is broken down with grief.
+     No, never more shall I return.
+
+
+This song is often sung; not as a chorus, but always as a solo. When the
+work is over, a prisoner goes out of the barracks, sits down on the
+threshold, meditates with his chin resting on his hand, and then drawls
+out his song in a high falsetto. One listens to him, and the effect is
+heart-breaking. Some of our convicts had beautiful voices.
+
+Meanwhile it was getting dusk. Wearisomeness and general depression were
+making themselves felt through the drunkenness and the debauchery. The
+prisoner, who an hour beforehand was holding his sides with laughter,
+now sobbed in a corner, exceedingly drunk; others were fighting, or
+wandering in a tottering manner through the barracks, pale, very pale,
+and seeking whom to quarrel with. These poor people had wished to pass
+the great festival in the most joyous manner, but, gracious heaven, how
+painful the day was for all of them! They had passed it in the vague
+hope of a happiness that was not to be realised. Petroff came up to me
+twice. As he had drunk very little he was calm; but until the last
+moment he expected something which he made sure would happen, something
+extraordinary, and highly diverting. Although he said nothing about it,
+this could be seen from his looks. He ran from barrack to barrack
+without fatigue. Nothing, however, happened; nothing except general
+intoxication, idiotic insults from drunkards, and general giddiness of
+heated heads.
+
+Sirotkin wandered about also, dressed in a brand-new red shirt, going
+from barrack to barrack, and good-looking as usual. He also was on the
+watch for something to happen. The spectacle became insupportably
+repulsive, indeed nauseating. There were some laughable things, but I
+was too sad to be amused by them. I felt a deep pity for all these men,
+and felt strangled, stifled, in the midst of them. Here two convicts
+were disputing as to which should treat the other. The dispute lasts a
+long time; they have almost come to blows. One of them has, for a long
+time past, had a grudge against the other. He complains, stammering as
+he does so, and tries to prove to his companion that he acted unjustly
+when, a year before, he sold a pelisse and concealed the money. There
+was more than this too. The complainant is a tall young fellow, with
+good muscular development, quiet, by no means stupid, but who, when he
+is drunk, wishes to make friends with every one, and to pour out his
+grief into their bosom. He insults his adversary with the intention of
+becoming reconciled to him later on. The other man, a big, massive
+person, with a round face, as cunning as a fox, had perhaps drunk more
+than his companion, but appeared only slightly intoxicated. This convict
+has character, and passes for a rich man; he has probably no interest in
+irritating his companion, and he accordingly leads him to one of the
+drink-sellers. The expansive friend declares that his companion owes him
+money, and that he is bound to stand him a drink “if he has any
+pretensions to be considered an honest man.”
+
+The drink-seller, not without some respect for his customer, and with a
+touch of contempt for the expansive friend (for he was drinking at the
+expense of another man), took a glass and filled it with vodka.
+
+“No, Stepka, you must pay, because you owe me money.”
+
+“I won’t tire my tongue talking to you any longer,” replied Stepka.
+
+“No, Stepka, you lie,” continues his friend, taking up a glass offered
+to him by the drink-seller. “You owe me money, and you must be without
+conscience. You have not a thing about you that you have not borrowed,
+and I don’t believe your very eyes are your own. In a word, Stepka, you
+are a blackguard.”
+
+“What are you whining about? Look, you are spilling your vodka.”
+
+“If you are being treated, why don’t you drink?” cries the drink-seller,
+to the expansive friend. “I cannot wait here until to-morrow.”
+
+“I will drink, don’t be frightened. What are you crying out about? My
+best wishes for the day. My best wishes for the day, Stepan Doroveitch,”
+replies the latter politely, as he bows, glass in hand, towards Stepka,
+whom the moment before he had called a blackguard. “Good health to you,
+and may you live a hundred years in addition to what you have lived
+already.” He drinks, gives a grunt of satisfaction, and wipes his mouth.
+“What quantities of brandy I have drunk,” he says, gravely speaking to
+every one, without addressing any one in particular, “but I have
+finished now. Thank me, Stepka Doroveitch.”
+
+“There is nothing to thank you for.”
+
+“Ah! you won’t thank me. Then I will tell every one how you have treated
+me, and, moreover, that you are a blackguard.”
+
+“Then I shall have something to tell you, drunkard that you are,”
+interrupts Stepka, who at last loses patience. “Listen and pay
+attention. Let us divide the world in two. You shall take one half, I
+the other. Then I shall have peace.”
+
+“Then you will not give me back my money?”
+
+“What money do you want, drunkard?”
+
+“My money. It is the sweat of my brow; the labour of my hands. You will
+be sorry for it in the other world. You will be roasted for those five
+kopecks.”
+
+“Go to the devil.”
+
+“What are you driving me for? Am I a horse?”
+
+“Be off, be off.”
+
+“Blackguard!”
+
+“Convict!”
+
+And the insults exchanged were worse than they had been before the visit
+to the drink-seller.
+
+Two friends are seated separately on two camp-bedsteads. One is tall,
+vigorous, fleshy, with a red face--a regular butcher. He is on the point
+of weeping; for he has been much moved. The other is tall, thin,
+conceited, with an immense nose, which always seems to have a cold, and
+little blue eyes fixed upon the ground. He is a clever, well-bred man,
+and was formerly a secretary. He treats his friend with a little
+disdain, which the latter cannot stand. They have been drinking together
+all day.
+
+“You have taken a liberty with me,” cries the stout one, as with his
+left hand he shakes the head of his companion. To take a liberty
+signifies, in convict language, to strike. This convict, formerly a
+non-commissioned officer, envies in secret the elegance of his
+neighbour, and endeavours to make up for his material grossness by
+refined conversation.
+
+“I tell you, you are wrong,” says the secretary, in a dogmatic tone,
+with his eyes obstinately fixed on the ground, and without looking at
+his companion.
+
+“You struck me. Do you hear?” continues the other, still shaking his
+dear friend. “You are the only man in the world I care for; but you
+shall not take a liberty with me.”
+
+“Confess, my dear fellow,” replies the secretary, “that all this is the
+result of too much drink.”
+
+The corpulent friend falls back with a stagger, looks stupidly with his
+drunken eyes at the secretary, and suddenly, with all his might, sends
+his fist into the secretary’s thin face. Thus terminates the day’s
+friendship.
+
+The dear friend disappears beneath the camp-bedstead unconscious.
+
+One of my acquaintances enters the barracks. He is a convict of the
+special section, very good-natured, and gay, far from stupid, and
+jocular without malice. He is the man who, on my arrival at the convict
+prison, was looking out for a rich peasant, who spoke so much of his
+self-respect, and ended by drinking my tea. He was forty years old, had
+enormous lips, and a fat, fleshy, red nose. He held a balalaika, and
+struck negligently its strings. He was followed by a little convict,
+with a large head, whom I knew very little, and to whom no one paid any
+attention. Now that he was drunk he had attached himself to Vermaloff,
+and followed him like his shadow, at the same time gesticulating and
+striking with his fist the wall and the camp-bedsteads. He was almost in
+tears. Vermaloff did not notice him any more than if he had not existed.
+The most curious point was that these two men in no way resembled one
+another, neither by their occupations nor by their disposition. They
+belonged to different sections, and lived in separate barracks. The
+little convict was named Bulkin.
+
+Vermaloff smiled when he saw me seated by the stove. He stopped at some
+distance from me, reflected for a moment, tottered, and then came
+towards me with an affected swagger. Then he swept the strings of his
+instrument, and sung, or recited, tapping at the same time with his boot
+on the ground, the following chant:
+
+
+     My darling!
+     With her full, fair face,
+     Sings like a nightingale;
+     In her satin dress,
+     With its brilliant trimming,
+     She is very fair.
+
+
+This song excited Bulkin in an extraordinary manner. He agitated his
+arms, and shrieked out to every one: “He lies, my friends; he lies like
+a quack doctor. There is not a shadow of truth in what he sings.”
+
+“My respects to the venerable Alexander Petrovitch,” said Vermaloff,
+looking at me with a knowing smile. I fancied even he wished to embrace
+me. He was drunk. As for the expression, “My respects to the venerable
+so-and-so,” it is employed by the common people throughout Siberia, even
+when addressed to a young man of twenty. To call a man old is a sign of
+respect, and may amount even to flattery.
+
+“Well, Vermaloff, how are you?” I replied.
+
+“So, so. Nothing to boast of. Those who really enjoy the holiday have
+been drinking since early morning.”
+
+Vermaloff did not speak very distinctly.
+
+“He lies; he lies again,” said Bulkin, striking the camp-bedsteads with
+a sort of despair.
+
+One might have sworn that Vermaloff had given his word of honour not to
+pay any attention to him. That was really the most comic thing about it;
+for Bulkin had not quitted him for one moment since the morning. Always
+with him, he quarrelled with Vermaloff about every word; wringing his
+hands, and striking with his fists against the wall and the camp
+bedsteads till he made them bleed, he suffered visibly from his
+conviction that Vermaloff “lied like a quack doctor.” If Bulkin had had
+hair on his head, he would certainly have torn it in his grief, in his
+profound mortification. One might have thought that he had made himself
+responsible for Vermaloff’s actions, and that all Vermaloff’s faults
+troubled his conscience. The amusing part of it was that Vermaloff
+continued.
+
+“He lies! He lies! He lies!” cried Bulkin.
+
+“What can it matter to you?” replied the convicts, with a laugh.
+
+“I must tell you, Alexander Petrovitch, that I was very good-looking
+when I was a young man, and the young girls were very fond of me,” said
+Vermaloff suddenly.
+
+“He lies! He lies!” again interrupted Bulkin, with a groan. The convicts
+burst into a laugh.
+
+“And well I got myself up to please them. I had a red shirt, and broad
+trousers of cotton velvet. I was happy in those days. I got up when I
+liked; did whatever I pleased. In fact----”
+
+“He lies,” declared Bulkin.
+
+“I inherited from my father a stone house, two storeys high. Within two
+years I made away with the two storeys; nothing remained to me but the
+street door. Well, what of that. Money comes and goes like a bird.”
+
+“He lies!” declared Bulkin, more resolutely than before.
+
+“Then when I had spent all, I sent a letter to my relations, that they
+might send me some money. They said that I had set their will at naught,
+that I was disrespectful. It is now seven years since I sent off my
+letter.”
+
+“And any answer?” I asked, with a smile.
+
+“No,” he replied, also laughing, and almost putting his nose in my face.
+
+He then informed me that he had a sweetheart.
+
+“You a sweetheart?”
+
+“Onufriel said to me the other day: ‘My young woman is marked with
+small-pox, and as ugly as you like; but she has plenty of dresses, while
+yours, though she may be pretty, is a beggar.’”
+
+“Is that true?”
+
+“Certainly, she is a beggar,” he answered.
+
+He burst into a laugh, and the others laughed with him. Every one indeed
+knew that he had a _liaison_ with a beggar woman, to whom he gave ten
+kopecks every six months.
+
+“Well, what do you want with me?” I said to him, wishing at last to get
+rid of him.
+
+He remained silent, and then, looking at me in the most insinuating
+manner, said:
+
+“Could not you let me have enough money to buy half-a-pint? I have drunk
+nothing but tea the whole day,” he added, as he took from me the money I
+offered him; “and tea affects me in such a manner that I am afraid of
+becoming asthmatic. It gives me the wind.”
+
+When he took the money I offered him, the despair of Bulkin went beyond
+all bounds. He gesticulated like a man possessed.
+
+“Good people all,” he cried, “the man lies. Everything he
+says--everything is a lie.”
+
+“What can it matter to you?” cried the convicts, astonished at his
+goings on. “You are possessed.”
+
+“I will not allow him to lie,” continued Bulkin, rolling his eyes, and
+striking his fist with energy on the boards. “He shall not lie.”
+
+Every one laughed. Vermaloff bowed to me after receiving the money, and
+hastened, with many grimaces, to go to the drink-seller. Then only he
+noticed Bulkin.
+
+“Come!” he said to him, as if the latter were indispensable for the
+execution of some design. “Idiot!” he added, with contempt, as Bulkin
+passed before him.
+
+But enough about this tumultuous scene, which, at last, came to an end.
+The convicts went to sleep heavily on their camp-bedsteads. They spoke
+and raged during their sleep more than on the other nights. Here and
+there they still continued to play at cards. The festival looked forward
+to with such impatience was now over, and to-morrow the daily work, the
+hard labour, will begin again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE PERFORMANCE.
+
+
+On the evening of the third day of the holidays took place our first
+theatrical performance. There had been much trouble about organising it.
+But those who were to act had taken everything upon themselves, and the
+other convicts knew nothing about the representation except that it was
+to take place. We did not even know what was to be played. The actors,
+while they were at work, were always thinking how they could get
+together the greatest number of costumes. Whenever I met Baklouchin he
+snapped his fingers with satisfaction, but told me nothing. I think the
+Major was in a good humour; but we did not know for certain whether he
+knew what was going on or not, whether he had authorised it, or whether
+he had determined to shut his eyes and be silent, after assuring himself
+that everything would take place quietly. He had heard, I fancy, of the
+meditated representation, and said nothing about it, lest he should
+spoil everything. The soldiers would be disorderly, or would get drunk,
+unless they had something to divert them. Thus I think the Major must
+have reasoned, for it will be only natural to do so. I may add that if
+the convicts had not got up a performance during the holidays, or done
+something of the kind, the administration would have been obliged to
+organise some sort of amusement; but as our Major was distinguished by
+ideas directly opposed to those of other people, I take a great
+responsibility on myself in saying that he knew of our project and
+authorised it. A man like him must always be crushing and stifling some
+one, taking something away, depriving some one of a right--in a word,
+for establishing order of this character he was known throughout the
+town.
+
+It mattered nothing to him that his exactions made the men rebellious.
+For such offences there were suitable punishments (there are some people
+who reason in this way), and with these rascals of convicts there was
+nothing to do but to treat them very severely, deal with them strictly
+according to law. These incapable executants of the law did not in the
+least understand that to apply the law without understanding its spirit
+is to provoke resistance. They are quite astonished that, in addition to
+the execution of the law, good sense and a sound head should be expected
+from them. The last condition would appear to them quite superfluous; to
+require such a thing is vexatious, intolerant.
+
+However this may be, the Sergeant-Major made no objection to the
+performance, and that was all the convicts wanted. I may say in all
+truth that if throughout the holidays there were no disorders in the
+convict prison, no sanguinary quarrels, no robberies, that must be
+attributed to the convicts being permitted to organise their
+performance. I saw with my own eyes how they got out of the way of those
+of their companions who had drunk too much, and how they prevented
+quarrels on the ground that the representation would be forbidden. The
+non-commissioned officer made the prisoners give their word of honour
+that they would behave well, and that all would go off quietly. They
+gave it with pleasure, and kept their promise religiously. They were
+much flattered at finding their word of honour accepted. Let me add that
+the representation cost nothing, absolutely nothing, to the
+authorities, who were not called upon to spend a farthing. The theatre
+could be put up and taken down within a quarter of an hour; and, in case
+an order stopping the performance suddenly arrived, the scenery could
+have been put away in a second. The costumes were concealed in the
+convicts’ boxes; but first of all let me say how our theatre was
+constructed, what were the costumes, and what the bill, that is to say,
+the pieces that were to be played. To tell the truth, there was no
+written playbill, not, at least, for the first representation. It was
+ready only for the second and third. Baklouchin composed it for the
+officers and other distinguished visitors who might deign to honour the
+performance with their presence, including the officer of the guard, the
+officer of the watch, and an Engineer officer. It was in honour of these
+that the playbill was written out.
+
+It was supposed that the reputation of our theatre would extend to the
+fortress, and even to the town, especially as there was no theatre at
+N----: a few amateur performances, but nothing more. The convicts
+delighted in the smallest success, and boasted of it like children.
+
+“Who knows?” they said to one another; “when our chiefs hear of it they
+will perhaps come and see. Then they will know what convicts are worth,
+for this is not a performance given by soldiers, but a genuine piece
+played by genuine actors; nothing like it could be seen anywhere in the
+town. General Abrosimoff had a representation at his house, and it is
+said he will have another. Well, they may beat us in the matter of
+costumes, but as for the dialogue that is a very different thing. The
+Governor himself will perhaps hear of it, and--who knows?--he may come
+himself.”
+
+They had no theatre in the town. In a word, the imagination of the
+convicts, above all after their first success, went so far as to make
+them think that rewards would be distributed to them, and that their
+period of hard labour would be shortened. A moment afterwards they were
+the first to laugh at this fancy. In a word, they were children, true
+children, when they were forty years of age. I knew in a general way the
+subjects of the pieces that were to be represented, although there was
+no bill. The title of the first was _Philatka and Miroshka Rivals_.
+Baklouchin boasted to me, at least a week before the performance, that
+the part of Philatka, which he had assigned to himself, would be played
+in such a manner that nothing like it had ever been seen, even on the
+St. Petersburg stage. He walked about in the barracks puffed up with
+boundless importance. If now and then he declaimed a speech from his
+part in the theatrical style, every one burst out laughing, whether the
+speech was amusing or not; they laughed because he had forgotten
+himself. It must be admitted that the convicts, as a body, were
+self-contained and full of dignity; the only ones who got enthusiastic
+at Baklouchin’s tirades were the young ones, who had no false shame, or
+those who were much looked up to, and whose authority was so firmly
+established that they were not afraid to commit themselves. The others
+listened silently, without blaming or contradicting, but they did their
+best to show that the performance left them indifferent.
+
+It was not until the very last moment, the very day of the
+representation, that every one manifested genuine interest in what our
+companions had undertaken. “What,” was the general question, “would the
+Major say? Would the performance succeed as well as the one given two
+years before?” etc., etc. Baklouchin assured me that all the actors
+would be quite at home on the stage, and that there would even be a
+curtain. Sirotkin was to play a woman’s part. “You will see how well I
+look in women’s clothes,” he said. The Lady Bountiful was to have a
+dress with skirts and trimmings, besides a parasol; while her husband,
+the Lord of the Manor, was to wear an officer’s uniform, with
+epaulettes, and a cane in his hand.
+
+The second piece that was to be played was entitled, _Kedril, the
+Glutton_. The title puzzled me much, but it was useless to ask any
+questions about it. I could only learn that the piece was not printed;
+it was a manuscript copy obtained from a retired non-commissioned
+officer in the town, who had doubtless formerly participated in its
+representation on some military stage. We have, indeed, in the distant
+towns and governments, a number of pieces of this kind, which, I
+believe, are perfectly unknown and have never been printed, but which
+appear to have grown up of themselves, in connection with the popular
+theatre, in certain zones of Russia. I have spoken of the popular
+theatre. It would be a good thing if our investigators of popular
+literature would take the trouble to make careful researches as to this
+popular theatre which exists, and which, perhaps, is not so
+insignificant as may be thought.
+
+I cannot think that everything I saw on the stage of our convict prison
+was the work of our convicts. It must have sprung from old traditions
+handed down from generation to generation, and preserved among the
+soldiers, the workmen in industrial towns, and even the shopkeepers in
+some poor, out-of-the-way places. These traditions have been preserved
+in some villages and some Government towns by the servants of the large
+landed proprietors. I even believe that copies of many old pieces have
+been multiplied by these servants of the nobility.
+
+The old Muscovite proprietors and nobles had their own theatres, in
+which their servants used to play. Thence comes our popular theatre, the
+originals of which are beyond discussion. As for _Kedril, the Glutton_,
+in spite of my lively curiosity, I could learn nothing about it, except
+that demons appeared on the stage and carried Kedril away to hell. What
+did the name of Kedril signify? Why was he called Kedril and not Cyril?
+Was the name Russian or foreign? I could not resolve this question.
+
+It was announced that the representation would terminate with a musical
+pantomime. All this promised to be very curious. The actors were
+fifteen in number, all vivacious men. They were very energetic, got up a
+number of rehearsals which sometimes took place behind the barracks,
+kept away from the others, and gave themselves mysterious airs. They
+evidently wished to surprise us with something extraordinary and
+unexpected.
+
+On work days the barracks were shut very early as night approached, but
+an exception was made during the Christmas holidays, when the padlocks
+were not put to the gates until the evening retreat--nine o’clock. This
+favour had been granted specially in view of the play. During the whole
+duration of the holidays a deputation was sent every evening to the
+officer of the guard very humbly “to permit the representation and not
+to shut at the usual hour.” It was added that there had been previous
+representations, and that nothing disorderly had occurred at any of
+them.
+
+The officer of the guard must have reasoned as follows: There was no
+disorder, no infraction of discipline at the previous performance, and
+the moment they give their word that to-night’s performance shall take
+place in the same manner, they mean to be their own police--the most
+rigorous police of all. Moreover, he knew well that if he took it upon
+himself to forbid the representation, these fellows (who knows, and with
+convicts?) would have committed some offence which would have placed the
+officer of the guard in a very difficult position. One final reason
+insured his consent: To mount guard is horribly tiresome, and if he
+authorised the performance he would see the play acted, not by soldiers,
+but by convicts, a curious set of people. It would certainly be
+interesting, and he had a right to be present at it.
+
+In case the superior officer arrived and asked for the officer of the
+guard, he would be told that the latter had gone to count the convicts
+and close the barracks; an answer which could easily be made, and which
+could not be disproved. That is why our superintendents authorised the
+performance; and throughout the holidays the barracks were kept open
+each evening until the retreat. The convicts had known beforehand that
+they would meet with no opposition from the officer of the guard. They
+were quite quiet about him.
+
+Towards six o’clock Petroff came to look for me, and we went together to
+the theatre. Nearly all the prisoners of our barracks were there, with
+the exception of the “old believer” from Tchernigoff, and the Poles. The
+latter did not decide to be present until the last day of the
+representation, the 4th of January, after they had been assured that
+everything would be managed in a becoming manner. The haughtiness of the
+Poles irritated our convicts. Accordingly they were received on the 4th
+of January with formal politeness, and conducted to the best places. As
+for the Circassians and Isaiah Fomitch, the play was for them a genuine
+delight. Isaiah Fomitch gave three kopecks each time, except the last,
+when he placed ten kopecks on the plate; and how happy he looked!
+
+The actors had decided that each spectator should give what he thought
+fit. The receipts were to cover the expenses, and anything beyond was to
+go to the actors. Petroff assured me that I should be allowed to have
+one of the best places, however full the theatre might be; first,
+because being richer than the others, there was a probability of my
+giving more; and, secondly, because I knew more about acting than any
+one else. What he had foreseen took place. But let me first describe the
+theatre.
+
+The barrack of the military section, which had been turned into the
+theatre, was fifteen feet long. From the court-yard one entered, first
+an ante-chamber, and afterwards the barrack itself. The building was
+arranged, as I have already mentioned, in a particular manner, the beds
+being placed against the wall, so as to leave an open space in the
+middle. One half of the barrack was reserved for the spectators, while
+the other, which communicated with the second building, formed the
+stage. What astonished me directly I entered, was the curtain, which was
+about ten feet long, and divided the barrack into two. It was indeed a
+marvel, for it was painted in oil, and represented trees, tunnels,
+ponds, and stars.
+
+It was made of pieces of linen, old and new, given by the convicts;
+shirts, the bandages which our peasants wrap round their feet in lieu of
+socks, all sewn together well or ill, and forming together an immense
+sheet. Where there was not enough linen, it had been replaced by writing
+paper, taken sheet by sheet from the various office bureaus. Our
+painters (among whom we had our Bruloff) had painted it all over, and
+the effect was very remarkable.
+
+This luxurious curtain delighted the convicts, even the most sombre and
+most morose. These, however, like the others, as soon as the play began,
+showed themselves mere children. They were all pleased and satisfied
+with a certain satisfaction of vanity. The theatre was lighted with
+candle ends. Two benches, which had been brought from the kitchen, were
+placed before the curtain, together with three or four large chairs,
+borrowed from the non-commissioned officers’ room. These chairs were for
+the officers, should they think fit to honour the performance. As for
+the benches, they were for the non-commissioned officers, engineers,
+clerks, directors of the works, and all the immediate superiors of the
+convicts who had not officer’s rank, and who had come perhaps to take a
+look at the representation. In fact, there was no lack of visitors.
+According to the days, they came in greater or smaller numbers, while
+for the last representation there was not a single place unoccupied on
+the benches.
+
+At the back the convicts stood crowded together; standing up out of
+respect to the visitors, and dressed in their vests, or in their short
+pelisses, in spite of the suffocating heat. As might have been expected,
+the place was too small; so all the prisoners stood up, heaped
+together--above all in the last rows. The camp-bedsteads were all
+occupied; and there were some amateurs who disputed constantly behind
+the stage in the other barrack, and who viewed the performance from the
+back. I was asked to go forward, and Petroff with me, close to the
+benches, whence a good view could be obtained. They looked upon me as a
+good judge, a connoisseur, who had seen many other theatres. The
+convicts remarked that Baklouchin had often consulted me, and that he
+had shown deference to my advice. Consequently they thought that I ought
+to be treated with honour, and to have one of the best places. These men
+are vain and frivolous, but only on the surface. They laughed at me when
+I was at work, because I was a poor workman. Almazoff had a right to
+despise us gentlemen, and to boast of his superior skill in pounding the
+alabaster. His laughter and raillery were directed against our origin,
+for we belonged by birth to the caste of his former masters, of whom he
+could not preserve a good recollection; but here at the theatre these
+same men made way for me; for they knew that about this matter I knew
+more than they did. Those, even, who were not at all well disposed
+towards me, were glad to hear me praise the performance, and gave way to
+me without the least servility. I judged now by my impressions of that
+time. I understood that in this new view of theirs there was no lowering
+of themselves; rather a sentiment of their own dignity.
+
+The most striking characteristic of our people is its conscientiousness,
+and its love of justice; no false vanity, no sly ambition to reach the
+first rank without being entitled to do so; such faults are foreign to
+our people. Take it from its rough shell, and you will perceive, if you
+study it without prejudice, attentively, and close at hand, qualities
+which you would never have suspected. Our sages have very little to
+teach our people. I will even say more; they might take lessons from it.
+
+Petroff had told me innocently, on taking me into the theatre, that they
+would pass me to the front, because they expected more money from me.
+There were no fixed prices for the places. Each one gave what he liked,
+and what he could. Nearly every one placed a piece of money in the plate
+when it was handed round. Even if they had passed me forward in the hope
+that I should give more than others, was there not in that a certain
+feeling of personal dignity?
+
+“You are richer than I am. Go to the first row. We are all equal here,
+it is true; but you pay more, and the actors prefer a spectator like
+you. Occupy the first place then, for we are not here with money, and
+must arrange ourselves anyhow.”
+
+What noble pride in this mode of action! In final analysis not love of
+money, but self-respect. There was little esteem for money among us. I
+do not remember that one of us ever lowered himself to obtain money.
+Some men used to make up to me, but from love of cunning and of fun
+rather than in the hope of obtaining any benefit. I do not know whether
+I explain myself clearly. I am, in any case, forgetting the performance.
+Let me return to it.
+
+Before the rise of the curtain, the room presented a strange and
+animated look. In the first place, the crowd pressed, crushed, jammed
+together on all sides, but impatient, full of expectation, every face
+glowing with delight. In the last ranks was the grovelling, confused
+mass of convicts. Many of them had brought with them logs of wood, which
+they placed against the wall, on which they climbed up. In this
+fatiguing position they paused to rest themselves by placing both hands
+on the shoulders of their companions, who seemed quite at ease. Others
+stood on their toes, with their heels against the stove, and thus
+remained throughout the representation, supported by those around them.
+Massed against the camp-bedsteads was another compact crowd; for here
+were some of the best places of all. Five convicts had hoisted
+themselves up to the top of the stove, whence they had a commanding
+view. These fortunate ones were extremely happy. Elsewhere swarmed the
+late arrivals, unable to find good places.
+
+Every one conducted himself in a becoming manner, without making any
+noise. Each one wished to show advantageously before the distinguished
+persons who were visiting us. Simple and natural was the expression of
+these red faces, damp with perspiration, as the rise of the curtain was
+eagerly expected. What a strange look of infinite delight, of unmixed
+pleasure, was painted on these scarred faces, these branded foreheads,
+so dark and menacing at ordinary times! They were all without their
+caps, and as I looked back at them from my place, it seemed to me that
+their heads were entirely shaved.
+
+Suddenly the signal is given, and the orchestra begins to play. This
+orchestra deserves a special mention. It consisted of eight musicians:
+two violins, one of which was the property of a convict, while the other
+had been borrowed from outside; three balalaiki, made by the convicts
+themselves; two guitars, and a tambourine. The violins sighed and
+shrieked, and the guitars were worthless, but the balalaiki were
+remarkably good; and the agile fingering of the artists would have done
+honour to the cleverest executant.
+
+They played scarcely anything but dance tunes. At the most exciting
+passages they struck with their fingers on the body of their
+instruments. The tone, the execution of the motive, were always original
+and distinctive. One of the guitarists knew his instrument thoroughly.
+It was the gentleman who had killed his father. As for the tambourinist,
+he really did wonders. Now he whirled round the disk, balanced on one of
+his fingers; now he rubbed the parchment with his thumb, and brought
+from it a countless multitude of notes, now dull, now brilliant.
+
+At last two harmonigers join the orchestra. I had no idea until then of
+all that could be done with these popular and vulgar instruments. I was
+astonished. The harmony, but, above all, the expression, the very
+conception of the motive, were admirably rendered. I then understood
+perfectly, and for the first time, the remarkable boldness, the
+striking abandonment, which are expressed in our popular dance tunes,
+and our village songs.
+
+At last the curtain rose. Every one made a movement. Those who were at
+the back raised themselves upon the point of their feet; some one fell
+down from his log. At once there were looks that enjoined silence. The
+performance now began.
+
+I was seated not far from Ali, who was in the midst of the group formed
+by his brothers and the other Circassians. They had a passionate love of
+the theatre, and did not miss one of our evenings. I have remarked that
+all the Mohammedans, Circassians, and so on, are fond of all kinds of
+representations. Near them was Isaiah Fomitch, quite in a state of
+ecstasy. As soon as the curtain rose he was all ears and eyes; his
+countenance expressed an expectation of something marvellous. I should
+have been grieved had he been disappointed. The charming face of Ali
+shone with a childish joy, so pure that I was quite happy to behold it.
+Involuntarily, whenever a general laugh echoed an amusing remark, I
+turned towards him to see his countenance. He did not notice it, he had
+something else to do.
+
+Near him, placed on the left, was a convict, already old, sombre,
+discontented, and always grumbling. He also had noticed Ali, and I saw
+him cast furtive glances more than once towards him, so charming was the
+young Circassian. The prisoners always called him Ali Simeonitch,
+without my knowing why.
+
+In the first piece, _Philatka and Miroshka_, Baklouchin, in the part of
+Philatka, was really marvellous. He played his rôle to perfection. It
+could be seen that he had weighed each speech, each movement. He managed
+to give to each word, each gesture, a meaning which responded perfectly
+to the character of the personage. Apart from the conscientious study he
+had made of the character, he was gay, simple, natural, irresistible. If
+you had seen Baklouchin you would certainly have said that he was a
+genuine actor, an actor by vocation, and of great talent. I have seen
+Philatka several times at the St. Petersburg and Moscow theatres, and I
+declare that none of our celebrated actors was equal to Baklouchin in
+this part. They were peasants, from no matter what country, and not true
+Russian moujiks. Moreover, their desire to be peasant-like was too
+apparent. Baklouchin was animated by emulation; for it was known that
+the convict Potsiakin was to play the part of Kedril in the second
+piece, and it was assumed--I do not know why--that the latter would show
+more talent than Baklouchin. The latter was as vexed by this preference
+as a child. How many times did he not come to me during the last days to
+tell me all he felt! Two hours before the representation he was attacked
+by fever. When the audience burst out laughing, and called out “Bravo,
+Baklouchin! what a fellow you are!” his figure shone with joy, and true
+inspiration could be read in his eyes. The scene of the kisses between
+Kiroshka and Philatka, in which the latter calls out to the daughter,
+“Wife, your mouth,” and then wipes his own, was wonderfully comic. Every
+one burst out laughing.
+
+What interested me was the spectators. They were all at their ease, and
+gave themselves up frankly to their mirth. Cries of approbation became
+more and more numerous. A convict nudged his companion with his elbow,
+and hastily communicated his impressions, without even troubling himself
+to know who was by his side. When a comic song began, one man might be
+seen agitating his arms violently, as if to engage his companions to
+laugh; after which he turned suddenly towards the stage. A third smacked
+his tongue against his palate, and could not keep quiet a moment; but as
+there was not room for him to change his position, he hopped first on
+one leg, then on the other; towards the end of the piece the general
+gaiety attained its climax. I exaggerate nothing. Imagine the convict
+prison, chains, captivity, long years of confinement, of task-work, of
+monotonous life, falling away drop by drop like rain on an autumn day;
+imagine all this despair in presence of permission given to the convicts
+to amuse themselves, to breathe freely for an hour, to forget their
+nightmare, and to organise a play--and what a play! one that excited the
+envy and admiration of our town.
+
+“Fancy those convicts!” people said: everything interested them, take
+the costumes for instance. It seemed very strange, but then to see,
+Nietsvitaeff, or Baklouchin, in a different costume from the one they
+had worn for so many years.
+
+He is a convict, a genuine convict, whose chains ring when he walks; and
+there he is, out on the stage with a frock-coat, and a round hat, and a
+cloak, like any ordinary civilian. He has put on hair, moustaches. He
+takes a red handkerchief from his pocket and shakes it, like a real
+nobleman. What enthusiasm is created! The “good landlord” arrives in an
+aide-de-camp uniform, a very old one, it is true, but with epaulettes,
+and a cocked hat. The effect produced was indescribable. There had been
+two candidates for this costume, and--will it be believed?--they had
+quarrelled like two little schoolboys as to which of them should play
+the part. Both wanted to appear in military uniform with epaulettes. The
+other actors separated them, and, by a majority of voices, the part was
+entrusted to Nietsvitaeff; not because he was more suited to it than the
+other, and that he bore a greater resemblance to a nobleman, but only
+because he had assured them all that he would have a cane, and that he
+would twirl it and rap it out grand, like a true nobleman--a dandy of
+the latest fashion--which was more than Vanka and Ospiety could do,
+seeing they have never known any noblemen. In fact, when Nietsvitaeff
+went to the stage with his wife, he did nothing but draw circles on the
+floor with his light bamboo cane, evidently thinking that this was the
+sign of the best breeding, of supreme elegance. Probably in his
+childhood, when he was still a barefooted child, he had been attracted
+by the skill of some proprietor in twirling his cane, and this
+impression had remained in his memory, although thirty years afterwards.
+
+Nietsvitaeff was so occupied with his process that he saw no one, he
+gave the replies in his dialogue without even raising his eyes. The most
+important thing for him was the end of his cane, and the circles he drew
+with it. The Lady Bountiful was also very remarkable; she came on in an
+old worn-out muslin dress, which looked like a rag. Her arms and neck
+were bare. She had a little calico cap on her head, with strings under
+her chin, an umbrella in one hand, and in the other a fan of coloured
+paper, with which she constantly fanned herself. This great lady was
+welcomed with a wild laugh; she herself, too, was unable to restrain
+herself, and burst out more than once. The part was filled by the
+convict Ivanoff. As for Sirotkin, in his girl’s dress, he looked
+exceedingly well. The couplets were all well sung. In a word, the piece
+was played to the satisfaction of every one; not the least hostile
+criticism was passed--who, indeed, was there to criticise? The air,
+“Sieni moi Sieni,” was played again by way of overture, and the curtain
+again went up.
+
+_Kedril, the Glutton_, was now to be played. Kedril is a sort of Don
+Juan. This comparison may justly be made, for the master and the servant
+are both carried away by devils at the end of the piece; and the piece,
+as the convicts had it, was played quite correctly; but the beginning
+and the end must have been lost, for it had neither head nor tail. The
+scene is laid in an inn somewhere in Russia. The innkeeper introduces
+into a room a nobleman wearing a cloak and a battered round hat; the
+valet, Kedril, follows his master; he carries a valise, and a fowl
+rolled up in blue paper; he wears a short pelisse and a footman’s cap.
+It is this fellow who is the glutton. The convict Potsiakin, the rival
+of Baklouchin, played this part, while the part of the nobleman was
+filled by Ivanoff, the same who played the great lady in the first
+piece. The innkeeper (Nietsvitaeff) warns the nobleman that the room is
+haunted by demons, and goes away; the nobleman is interested and
+preoccupied; he murmurs aloud that he has known that for a long time,
+and orders Kedril to unpack his things and to get supper ready.
+
+Kedril is a glutton and a coward. When he hears of devils he turns pale
+and trembles like a leaf; he would like to run away, but is afraid of
+his master; besides, he is hungry, he is voluptuous, he is sensual,
+stupid, though cunning in his way, and, as before said, a poltroon; he
+cheats his master every moment, though he fears him like fire. This type
+of servant is a remarkable one in which may be recognised the principal
+features of the character of Leporello, but indistinct and confused. The
+part was played in really superior style by Potsiakin, whose talent was
+beyond discussion, surpassing as it did in my opinion that of Baklouchin
+himself. But when the next day I spoke to Baklouchin I concealed my
+impression from him, knowing that it would give him bitter pain.
+
+As for the convict who played the part of the nobleman, it was not bad.
+Everything he said was without meaning, incomparable to anything I had
+ever heard before; but his enunciation was pure and his gestures
+becoming. While Kedril occupies himself with the valise, his master
+walks up and down, and announces that from that day forth he means to
+lead a quiet life. Kedril listens, makes grimaces, and amuses the
+spectators by his reflections “aside.” He has no pity for his master,
+but he has heard of devils, would like to know what they are like, and
+thereupon questions him. The nobleman replies that some time ago, being
+in danger of death, he asked succour from hell. Then the devils aided
+and delivered him, but the term of his liberty has expired; and if the
+devils come that evening, it will be to exact his soul, as has been
+agreed in their compact. Kedril begins to tremble in earnest, but his
+master does not lose courage, and orders him to prepare the supper.
+Hearing of victuals, Kedril revives. Taking out a bottle of wine, he
+taps it on his own account. The audience expands with laughter; but the
+door grates on its hinges, the winds shakes the shutters, Kedril
+trembles, and hastily, almost without knowing what he is doing, puts
+into his mouth an enormous piece of fowl, which he is unable to swallow.
+There is another gust of wind.
+
+“Is it ready?” cries the master, still walking backwards and forwards in
+his room.
+
+“Directly, sir. I am preparing it,” says Kedril, who sits down, and,
+taking care that his master does not see him, begins to eat the supper
+himself. The audience is evidently charmed with the cunning of the
+servant, who so cleverly makes game of the nobleman; and it must be
+admitted that Poseikin, the representative of the part, deserved high
+praise. He pronounced admirably the words: “Directly, sir.
+I--am--preparing--it.”
+
+Kedril eats gradually, and at each mouthful trembles lest his master
+shall see him. Every time that the nobleman turns round Kedril hides
+under the table, holding the fowl in his hand. When he has appeased his
+hunger, he begins to think of his master.
+
+“Kedril, will it soon be ready?” cries the nobleman.
+
+“It is ready now,” replies Kedril boldly, when all at once he perceives
+that there is scarcely anything left. Nothing remains but one leg. The
+master, still sombre and pre-occupied, notices nothing, and takes his
+seat, while Kedril places himself behind him with a napkin on his arm.
+Every word, every gesture, every grimace from the servant, as he turns
+towards the audience to laugh at his master’s expense, excites the
+greatest mirth among the convicts. Just at the moment when the young
+nobleman begins to eat, the devils arrive. They resemble nothing human
+or terrestrial. The side-door opens, and the phantom appears dressed
+entirely in white, with a lighted lantern in lieu of a head, and with a
+scythe in its hand. Why the white dress, scythe, and lantern? No one
+could tell me, and the matter did not trouble the convicts. They were
+sure that this was the way it ought to be done. The master comes
+forward courageously to meet the apparitions, and calls out to them that
+he is ready, and that they can take him. But Kedril, as timid as a hare,
+hides under the table, not forgetting, in spite of his fright, to take a
+bottle with him. The devils disappear, Kedril comes out of his
+hiding-place, and the master begins to eat his fowl. Three devils enter
+the room, and seize him to take him to hell.
+
+“Save me, Kedril,” he cries. But Kedril has something else to think of.
+He has now with him in his hiding-place not only the bottle, but also
+the plate of fowl and the bread. He is now alone. The demons are far
+away, and his master also. Kedril gets from under the table, looks all
+round, and suddenly his face beams with joy. He winks, like the rogue he
+is, sits down in his master’s place, and whispers to the audience: “I
+have now no master but myself.”
+
+Every one laughs at seeing him masterless; and he says, always in an
+under-tone and with a confidential air: “The devils have carried him
+off!”
+
+The enthusiasm of the spectators is now without limits. The last phrase
+was uttered with such roguery, with such a triumphant grimace, that it
+was impossible not to applaud. But Kedril’s happiness does not last
+long. Hardly has he taken up the bottle of wine, and poured himself out
+a large glass, which he carries to his lips, than the devils return,
+slip behind, and seize him. Kedril howls like one possessed, but he dare
+not turn round. He wishes to defend himself, but cannot, for in his
+hands he holds the bottle and the glass, from which he will not
+separate. His eyes starting from his head, his mouth gaping with horror,
+he remains for a moment looking at the audience with a comic expression
+of cowardice that might have been painted. At last he is dragged,
+carried away. His arms and legs are agitated in every direction, but he
+still sticks to his bottle. He also shrieks, and his cries are still
+heard when he has been carried from the stage.
+
+The curtain falls amid general laughter, and every one is delighted.
+The orchestra now attacks the famous dance tune Kamarinskaia. First it
+is played softly, pianissimo; but little by little, the motive is
+developed and played more lightly. The time is quickened, and the wood,
+as well as the strings of the balalaiki, is made to sound. The musicians
+enter thoroughly into the spirit of the dance. Glinka [who has arranged
+the Kamarinskaia in the most ingenious manner, and with harmonies of his
+own devising, for full orchestra] should have heard it as it was
+executed in our Convict Prison.
+
+The pantomimic musical accompaniment is begun; and throughout the
+Kamarinskaia is played. The stage represents the interior of a hut. A
+miller and his wife are sitting down, one mending clothes, the other
+spinning flax. Sirotkin plays the part of the wife, and Nietsvitaeff
+that of the husband. Our scenery was very poor. In this piece, as in the
+preceding ones, imagination had to supply what was wanting in reality.
+Instead of a wall at the back of the stage, there was a carpet or a
+blanket; on the right, shabby screens; while on the left, where the
+stage was not closed, the camp-bedsteads could be seen; but the
+spectators were not exacting, and were willing to imagine all that was
+wanting. It was an easy task for them; all convicts are great dreamers.
+Directly they are told “this is a garden,” it is for them a garden.
+Informed that “this is a hut,” they accept the definition without
+difficulty. To them it is a hut. Sirotkin was charming in a woman’s
+dress. The miller finishes his work, takes his cap and his whip, goes up
+to his wife, and gives her to understand by signs, that if during his
+absence she makes the mistake of receiving any one, she will have to
+deal with him--and he shows her his whip. The wife listens, and nods
+affirmatively her head. The whip is evidently known to her; the hussey
+has often deserved it. The husband goes out. Hardly has he turned upon
+his heel, than his wife shakes her fist at him. There is a knock; the
+door opens, and in comes a neighbour, miller also by trade. He wears a
+beard, is in a kuftan, and he brings as a present a red handkerchief.
+The woman smiles. Another knock is heard at the door. Where shall she
+hide him? She conceals him under the table, and takes up her distaff
+again. Another admirer now presents himself--a farrier in the uniform of
+a non-commissioned officer.
+
+Until now the pantomime had gone on capitally; the gestures of the
+actors being irreproachable. It was astounding to see these improvised
+players going through their parts in so correct a manner; and
+involuntarily one said to oneself:
+
+“What a deal of talent is lost in our Russia, left without use in our
+prisons and places of exile!”
+
+The convict who played the part of the farrier had, doubtless, taken
+part in a performance at some provincial theatre, or had played with
+amateurs. It seemed to me, in any case, that our actors knew nothing of
+acting as an art, and bore themselves in the meanest manner. When it was
+his turn to appear, he came on like one of the classical heroes of the
+old repertory--taking a long stride with one foot before he raised the
+other from the ground, throwing back his head on the upper part of his
+body and casting proud looks around him. If such a gait was ridiculous
+on the part of classical heroes, still more so was it when the actor was
+representing a comic character. But the audience thought it quite
+natural, and accepted the actor’s triumphant walk as a necessary fact,
+without criticising it.
+
+A moment after the entry of the second admirer there is another knock at
+the door. The wife loses her head. Where is the farrier to be concealed?
+In her big box. It fortunately is open. The farrier disappears within it
+and the lid falls upon him.
+
+The new arrival is a Brahmin, in full costume. His entry is hailed by
+the spectators with a formidable laugh. This Brahmin is represented by
+the convict Cutchin, who plays the part perfectly, thanks, in a great
+measure, to a suitable physiognomy. He explains in the pantomime his
+love of the miller’s wife, raises his hands to heaven, and then clasps
+them on his breast.
+
+There is now another knock at the door--a vigorous one this time. There
+could be no mistake about it. It is the master of the house. The
+miller’s wife loses her head; the Brahmin runs wildly on all sides,
+begging to be concealed. She helps him to slip behind the cupboard, and
+begins to spin, and goes on spinning without thinking of opening the
+door. In her fright she gets the thread twisted, drops the spindle, and,
+in her agitation, makes the gesture of turning it when it is lying on
+the ground. Sirotkin represented perfectly this state of alarm.
+
+Then the miller kicks open the door and approaches his wife, whip in
+hand. He has seen everything, for he was spying outside; and he
+indicates by signs to his wife that she has three lovers concealed in
+the house. Then he searches them out.
+
+First, he finds the neighbour, whom he drives out with his fist. The
+frightened farrier tries to escape. He raises, with his head, the cover
+of the chest, and is at once seen. The miller thrashes him with his
+whip, and for once this gallant does not march in the classical style.
+
+The only one now remaining is the Brahmin, whom the husband seeks for
+some time without finding him. At last he discovers him in his corner
+behind the cupboard, bows to him politely, and then draws him by his
+beard into the middle of the stage. The Brahmin tries to defend himself,
+and cries out, “Accursed, accursed!”--the only words pronounced
+throughout the pantomime. But the husband will not listen to him, and,
+after settling accounts with him, turns to his wife. Seeing that her
+turn has come, she throws away both wheel and spindle, and runs out,
+causing an earthen pot to fall as she shakes the room in her fright. The
+convicts burst into a laugh, and Ali, without looking at me, takes my
+hand, and calls out, “See, see the Brahmin!” He cannot hold himself
+upright, so overpowering is his laugh. The curtain falls, and another
+song begins.
+
+There were two or three more, all broadly humorous and very droll. The
+convicts had not composed them themselves, but they had contributed
+something to them. Every actor improvised to such purpose that the part
+was a different one each evening. The pantomime ended with a ballet, in
+which there was a burial. The Brahmin went through various incantations
+over the corpse, and with effect. The dead man returns to life, and, in
+their joy, all present begin to dance. The Brahmin dances in Brahminical
+style with the dead man. This was the final scene. The convicts now
+separated, happy, delighted, and full of praise for the actors and
+gratitude towards the non-commissioned officers. There was not the least
+quarrel, and they all went to bed with peaceful hearts, to sleep with a
+sleep by no means familiar to them.
+
+This is no fantasy of my imagination, but the truth, the very truth.
+These unhappy men had been permitted to live for some moments in their
+own way, to amuse themselves in a human manner, to escape for a brief
+hour from their sad position as convicts; and a moral change was
+effected, at least for a time.
+
+The night is already quite dark. Something makes me shudder, and I
+awake. The “old believer” is still on the top of the high porcelain
+stove praying, and he will continue to pray until dawn. Ali is sleeping
+peacefully by my side. I remember that when he went to bed he was still
+laughing and talking about the theatre with his brothers. Little by
+little I began to remember everything; the preceding day, the Christmas
+holidays, and the whole month. I raised my head in fright and looked at
+my companions, who were sleeping by the trembling light of the candle
+provided by the authorities. I look at their unhappy countenances, their
+miserable beds; I view this nakedness, the wretchedness, and then
+convince myself that it is not a frightful night there, but a simple
+reality. Yes, it is a reality. I hear a groan. Some one has moved his
+arm and made his chains rattle. Another one is agitated in his dreams
+and speaks aloud, while the old grandfather is praying for the “Orthodox
+Christians.” I listened to his prayer, uttered with regularity, in
+soft, rather drawling tones: “Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon us.”
+
+“Well, I am not here for ever, but only for a few years,” I said to
+myself, and I again laid my head down on my pillow.
+
+
+
+
+Part II.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE HOSPITAL
+
+
+Shortly after the Christmas holidays I felt ill, and had to go to our
+military hospital, which stood apart at about half a verst (one-third of
+a mile) from the fortress. It was a one-storey building, very long, and
+painted yellow. Every summer a great quantity of ochre was expended in
+brightening it up. In the immense court-yard stood buildings, including
+those where the chief physicians lived, while the principal building
+contained only wards intended for the patients. There were a good many
+of them, but as only two were reserved for the convicts, these latter
+were nearly always full, above all in summer, so that it was often
+necessary to bring the beds closer together. These wards were occupied
+by “unfortunates” of all kinds: first by our own, then by military
+prisoners, previously incarcerated in the guard-houses. There were
+others, again, who had not yet been tried, or who were passing through.
+In this hospital, too, were invalids from the Disciplinary Company, a
+melancholy institution for bringing together soldiers of bad conduct,
+with a view to their correction. At the end of a year or two, they come
+back the most thorough-going rascals that the earth can endure.
+
+When a convict felt that he was ill, he told the non-commissioned
+officer, who wrote the man’s name down on a card, which he then gave to
+him and sent him to the hospital under the escort of a soldier. On his
+arrival he was examined by a doctor, who authorised the convict to
+remain at the hospital if he was really ill. My name was duly written
+down, and towards one o’clock, when all my companions had started for
+their afternoon work, I went to the hospital. Every prisoner took with
+him such money and bread as he could (for food was not to be expected
+the first day), a little pipe, and pouch containing tobacco, with flint,
+steel, and match-paper. The convicts concealed these objects in their
+boots. On entering the hospital I experienced a feeling of curiosity,
+for a new aspect of life was now presented.
+
+The day was hot, cloudy, sad--one of those days when places like a
+hospital assume a particularly disagreeable and repulsive look. Myself
+and the soldier escorting me went into the entrance room, where there
+were two copper baths. There were two convicts waiting there with their
+warders. An assistant surgeon came in, looked at us with a careless and
+patronising air, and went away still more carelessly to announce our
+arrival to the physician on duty. Soon the physician arrived. He
+examined me, treating me in a very affable manner, and gave me a paper
+on which my name was inscribed. The ordinary physician of the wards
+reserved for the convicts was to make the diagnosis of my illness, to
+prescribe the fitting remedies, together with the necessary diet. I had
+already heard the convicts say that their doctors could not be too much
+praised. “They are fathers to us,” they would say.
+
+I took my clothes off to put on another costume. Our clothes and linen
+were taken away, and we were given hospital linen instead, to which were
+added long stockings, slippers, cotton nightcaps, and a dressing-gown of
+a very thick brown cloth, which was lined, not with linen, but with
+filth. The dressing-gown was indeed very filthy, but I soon understood
+its utility. We were afterwards taken to the convict wards, which were
+at the head of a long corridor, very high, and very clean. The external
+cleanliness was quite satisfactory. Everything that could be seen shone;
+so, at least, it seemed to me, after the dirtiness of the convict
+prison.
+
+The two prisoners, whom I had found in the entrance hall, went to the
+left of the corridor, while I entered a room. Before the padlocked door
+walked a sentinel, musket on shoulder; and not far off was the soldier
+who was to replace him. The sergeant of the hospital guard ordered him
+to let me pass, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a long
+narrow room, with beds to the number of twenty-two arranged against the
+walls. Three or four of them were still unoccupied. These wooden beds
+were painted green, and, as is notoriously the case with all hospital
+beds in Russia, were doubtless inhabited by bugs. I went into a corner
+by the side of the windows. There were very few prisoners dangerously
+ill and confined to their beds.
+
+The inmates of the hospital were, for the most part, convalescents, or
+men who were slightly indisposed. My new companions were stretched out
+on their couches, or walking about up and down between the rows of beds.
+There was just space enough for them to come and go. The atmosphere of
+the ward was stifling with the odour peculiar to hospitals. It was
+composed of various emanations, each more disagreeable than the other,
+and of the smell of drugs; though the stove was kept well heated all day
+long, my bed was covered with a counterpane, which I took off. The bed
+itself consisted of a cloth blanket lined with linen, and coarse sheets
+of more than doubtful cleanliness. By the side of the bed was a little
+table with a pitcher and a pewter mug, together with a diminutive
+napkin, which had been given to me. The table could, moreover, hold a
+tea-urn for those patients who were rich enough to drink tea. These men
+of means, however, were not very numerous. The pipes and the tobacco
+pouches--for all the patients smoked, even the consumptive ones--could
+be concealed beneath the mattress. The doctors and the other officials
+scarcely ever made searches, and when they surprised a patient with a
+pipe in his mouth, they pretended not to see. The patients, however,
+were very prudent, and smoked always at the back of the stove. They
+never smoked in their beds except at night, when no rounds were made by
+the officers commanding the hospital.
+
+Until then I had not been in any hospital in the character of patient,
+so that everything was quite new to me. I noticed that my entry had
+mystified some of the prisoners. They had heard of me, and all the
+inmates now looked upon me with that slight shade of superiority which
+recognised members of no matter what society show to one newly admitted
+among them. On my right was lying down a man committed for trial--an
+ex-secretary and the illegitimate son of a retired captain--accused of
+having made false money. He had been in the hospital nearly a year. He
+was not in the least ill, but he assured the doctors that he had an
+aneurism, and he so thoroughly convinced them that he escaped both the
+hard labour and the corporal punishment to which he had been sentenced.
+He was sent a year later to T----k, where he was attached to an asylum.
+He was a vigorous young fellow of eight-and-twenty, cunning, a
+self-confessed rogue, and something of a lawyer. He was intelligent, had
+easy manners, but was very presumptuous, and suffered from morbid
+self-esteem. Convinced that there was no one in the world a bit more
+honest or more just than himself, he did not consider himself at all
+guilty, and never kept this assurance to himself.
+
+This personage was the first to address me, and he questioned me with
+much curiosity. He initiated me into the ways of the hospital; and, of
+course, began by telling me that he was the son of a captain. He was
+very anxious that I should take him for a noble, or at least, for some
+one connected with the nobility.
+
+Soon afterwards an invalid from the Disciplinary Company came and told
+me that he knew a great many nobles who had been exiled; and, to
+convince me, he repeated to me their christian names and their
+patronymics. It was only necessary to see the face of this soldier to
+understand that he was lying abominably. He was named Tchekounoff, and
+came to pay court to me, because he suspected me of having money. When
+he saw a packet of tea and sugar, he at once offered me his services to
+make the water boil and to get me a tea-urn. M. D. S. K---- had promised
+to send me my own by one of the prisoners who worked in the hospital,
+but Tchekounoff arranged to get me one forthwith. He got me a tin
+vessel, in which he made the water boil; and, in a word, he showed such
+extraordinary zeal, that it drew down upon him bitter laughter from one
+of the patients, a consumptive man, whose bed was just opposite mine,
+Usteantseff by name. This was the soldier condemned to the rods, who,
+from fear, had swallowed a bottle of vodka, in which he had infused
+tobacco, this bringing on lung disease.
+
+I have spoken of him above. He had remained silent until now, stretched
+out on his bed, and breathing with difficulty. He looked at me all the
+time with a very serious air. He did not take his eyes from Tchekounoff,
+whose civility irritated him. His extraordinary gravity rendered his
+indignation comic. At last he could stand it no longer.
+
+“Look at this fellow! He has found his master,” he said, stammering out
+the words with a voice strangled by weakness, for he had now not long to
+live.
+
+Tchekounoff, much annoyed, turned round.
+
+“Who is the fellow?” he asked, looking at Usteantseff, with contempt.
+
+“Why, you are a flunkey,” replied Usteantseff, as confidently as if he
+had possessed the right of calling Tchekounoff to order.
+
+“I a fellow?”
+
+“Yes, you are a flunkey; a true flunkey. Listen, my good friends. He
+won’t believe me. He is quite astonished, the brave fellow.”
+
+“What can that matter to you? You see when they don’t know how to make
+use of their hands that they are not accustomed to be without servants.
+Why should I not serve him, buffoon with a hairy snout?”
+
+“Who has a hairy snout?”
+
+“You!”
+
+“I have a hairy snout?”
+
+“Yes; certainly you have.”
+
+“You are a nice fellow, you are. If I have a hairy snout, you have a
+face like a crow’s egg.”
+
+“Hairy snout! The merciful Lord has settled your account. You would do
+much better to keep quiet and die.”
+
+“Why? I would rather prostrate myself before a boot than before a
+slipper. My father never prostrated himself, and never made me do so.”
+
+He would have continued, but an attack of coughing convulsed him for
+some minutes. He spat blood, and a cold sweat broke out on his low
+forehead. If his cough had not prevented him from speaking, he would
+have continued to declaim. One could see that from his look; but in his
+powerlessness he could only move his hand, the result of which was that
+Tchekounoff spoke no more about the matter.
+
+I quite understood that the consumptive patient hated me much more than
+Tchekounoff. No one would have thought of being angry with him or of
+looking down upon him by reason of the services he was rendering me, and
+the few kopecks that he tried to get from me. Every one understood that
+he did it all in order to get himself a little money.
+
+The Russian people are not at all susceptible on such points, and know
+perfectly well how to take them.
+
+I had displeased Usteantseff, as my tea had also displeased him. What
+irritated him was that, in spite of all, I was a gentleman, even with my
+chains; that I could not do without a servant, though I neither asked
+for nor desired one. In reality I tried to do everything for myself, in
+order not to appear a white-handed, effeminate person, and not to play
+the part which excited so much envy.
+
+I even felt a little pride on this point; but, in spite of every
+thing--I do not know why--I was always surrounded by officious,
+complaisant people, who attached themselves to me of their own free
+will, and who ended by governing me. It was I rather who was their
+servant; so that, whether I liked it or not, I was made to appear to
+every one a noble, who could not do without the services of others, and
+who gave himself airs. This exasperated me.
+
+Usteantseff was consumptive, and, therefore, irascible. The other
+patients only showed me indifference, tinged with a shade of contempt.
+They were occupied with a circumstance which now presents itself to my
+memory.
+
+I learned, as I listened to their conversation, that there was to be
+brought into the hospital that evening a convict who, at that moment,
+was receiving the rods. The prisoners were looking forward to this new
+arrival with some curiosity. They said, however, that his punishment was
+but slight--only five hundred strokes.
+
+I looked round. The greater number of genuine patients were, as far as I
+could observe, affected by scurvy and diseases of the eyes--both
+peculiar to this country. The others suffered from fever, lung disease,
+and other illnesses. The different illnesses were not separated; all the
+patients were together in the same room.
+
+I have spoken of genuine patients, for certain convicts had come in
+merely to get a little rest. The doctors admitted them from pure
+compassion, above all, if there were any vacant beds. Life in the
+guard-house and in the prison was so hard compared with that of the
+hospital, that many persons preferred to remain lying down in spite of
+the stifling atmosphere and the rules against leaving the room.
+
+There were even men who took pleasure in this kind of life. They
+belonged nearly all to the Disciplinary Company. I examined my new
+companions with curiosity. One of them puzzled me very much. He was
+consumptive, and was dying. His bed was a little further on than that of
+Usteantseff, and was nearly beside mine. He was named Mikhailoff. I had
+seen him in the Convict Prison two weeks before, when he was already
+seriously ill. He ought to have been under treatment long before, but
+he bore up against his malady with surprising courage. He did not go to
+the hospital until about the Christmas holidays, to die three weeks
+afterwards of galloping consumption. He seemed to have burned out like a
+candle. What astonished me most was the terrible change in his
+countenance. I had noticed him the very first day of my imprisonment. By
+his side was lying a soldier of the Disciplinary Company--an old man
+with a bad expression on his face, whose general appearance was
+disgusting.
+
+But I am not going to enumerate all the patients. I just remember this
+old man simply because he made an impression on me, and initiated me at
+once into certain peculiarities of the ward. He had a severe cold in the
+head, which made him sneeze at every moment, even during his sleep, as
+if firing salutes, five or six times running, while each time he called
+out, “My God, what torture!”
+
+Seated on his bed he stuffed his nose eagerly with snuff, which he took
+from a paper bag, in order to sneeze more strongly, and with greater
+regularity. He sneezed into a checked cotton pocket-handkerchief which
+belonged to him, and which had lost its colour through perpetual
+washing. His little nose then became wrinkled in a most peculiar manner
+with a multitude of wrinkles, and his open mouth exhibited broken teeth,
+decayed and black, and red gums moist with saliva. When he sneezed into
+his handkerchief he unfolded it and wiped it on the lining of his
+dressing-gown. His proceedings disgusted me so much that involuntarily I
+examined the dressing-gown I had just put on myself. It exhaled a most
+offensive odour, which contact with my body helped to bring out. It
+smelt of plasters and medicaments of all kinds. It seemed as though it
+had been worn by patients from time immemorial. The lining had, perhaps,
+been washed once, but I would not swear to it. Certainly, at the time I
+put it on, it was saturated with lotions, and stained by contact with
+poultices and plasters of all imaginable kinds.
+
+The men condemned to the rods, having undergone their punishment, were
+brought straight to the hospital, their backs still bleeding. As
+compresses and as poultices were placed on their wounds, the
+dressing-gown they wore over their wet shirt received and retained the
+droppings.
+
+During all the time of my hard labour I had to go to the hospital, which
+often happened, I always put on, with mistrust and abhorrence, the
+dressing-gown that was delivered to me. As soon as Tchekounoff had given
+me my tea (I will say, in parenthesis, that the water brought in in the
+morning, and not renewed throughout the day, was soon corrupted, soon
+poisoned by the fetid air), the door opened, and the soldier, who had
+just received the rods, was brought in under a double escort. I saw, for
+the first time, a man who had just been whipped. Later on many were
+brought in, and whenever this happened it caused great distress to the
+patients. These unfortunate men were received with grave composure, but
+the nature of the reception depended nearly always on the enormity of
+the crime committed, and, consequently, the number of strokes
+administered.
+
+The criminals most cruelly whipped, and who were celebrated as brigands
+of the first order, enjoyed more respect and attention than a simple
+deserter, a recruit, like the one who had just been brought in. But in
+neither case was any particular sympathy manifested, nor were any
+annoying remarks made. The unhappy man was attended to in silence, above
+all if he was incapable of attending to himself. The assistant-surgeons
+knew that they were entrusting their patients to skilful and experienced
+hands. The usual treatment consisted in applying very often to the back
+of the man who had been whipped a shirt or a piece of linen steeped in
+cold water. It was also necessary to withdraw skilfully from the wounds
+the twigs left by the rods which had been broken on the criminal’s back.
+This last operation was particularly painful to the patients. The
+extraordinary stoicism with which they supported their sufferings
+astonished me greatly.
+
+I have seen many convicts who had been whipped, and cruelly, I can tell
+you. Well, I do not remember one of them uttering a groan. Only after
+such an experience, the countenance becomes pale, decomposed, the eyes
+glitter, the look wanders, and the lips tremble so that the patient
+sometimes bites them till they bleed.
+
+The soldier who had just come in was twenty-three years of age; he had a
+good muscular development, and was rather a fine man, tall, well-made,
+with a bronzed skin. His back, uncovered down to the waist, had been
+seriously beaten, and his body now trembled with fever beneath the damp
+sheet with which his back was covered. For about an hour and a half he
+did nothing but walk backwards and forwards in the room. I looked at his
+face: he seemed to be thinking of nothing; his eyes had a strange
+expression, at once wild and timid; they seemed to fix themselves with
+difficulty on the various objects. I fancied I saw him looking
+attentively at my hot tea; the steam was rising from the full cup, and
+the poor devil was shivering and clattering his teeth. I invited him to
+have some; he turned towards me without saying a word, and taking up the
+cup, swallowed the tea at one gulp, without putting sugar in it. He
+tried not to look at me, and when he had finished he put the cup back in
+silence without making a sign, and then began to walk up and down as
+before. He was in too much pain to think of speaking to me or thanking
+me. As for the other prisoners, they abstained from questioning him;
+when once they had applied compresses they paid no more attention to
+him, thinking probably it would be better to leave him alone, and not to
+worry him by their questions and compassion. The soldier seemed quite
+satisfied with this view.
+
+Meanwhile, night came on and the lamp was lighted; some of the patients
+possessed candlesticks of their own, but these were not numerous. In the
+evening the doctor came round, after which a non-commissioned officer on
+guard counted the patients and closed the room.
+
+The prisoners could not speak in too high terms of their doctors. They
+looked upon them truly as fathers and respected them. These doctors had
+always something pleasant to say, a kind word even for reprobates, who
+appreciated it all the more because they knew it was said in all
+sincerity.
+
+Yes, these kind words were really sincere, for no one would have thought
+of blaming the doctors had they shown themselves cross and inhuman; they
+were kind purely from humanity. They understood perfectly that a convict
+who is sick has as much right to breathe pure air as any other person,
+even though the latter might be a great personage. The convalescents
+there had a right to walk freely through the corridors to take exercise,
+and to breathe air less pestilential than that of our infirmary, which
+was close and saturated with deleterious emanations. In our ward, when
+once the doors had been closed in the evening, they had to remain closed
+throughout the night, and under no pretext was one of the inmates
+allowed to go out.
+
+For many years an inexplicable fact troubled me like an insoluble
+problem. I must speak of it before going on with my description. I am
+thinking of the chains which every convict is obliged to wear, however
+ill he may be; even consumptives have died beneath my eyes with their
+legs loaded with irons.
+
+Everybody was accustomed to it, and regarded it as an inevitable fact. I
+do not think any one, even the doctors, would have thought of demanding
+the removal of the irons from convicts who were seriously ill, not even
+from the consumptive ones. The chains, it is true, were not exceedingly
+heavy; they did not in general weigh more than eight or ten pounds,
+which is a supportable burden for a man in good health. I have been
+told, however, that after some years the legs of the convicts dry up and
+waste away. I do not know whether it is true. I am inclined to think it
+is; the weight, however light it may be (say not more than ten pounds),
+if it is fixed to the leg for ever, increases the general weight in an
+abnormal manner, and at the end of a certain time must have a disastrous
+effect on its development.
+
+For a convict in good health this is nothing, but the same cannot be
+said of one who is sick. For the convicts who were seriously ill, for
+the consumptive ones whose arms and legs dry up of themselves, this last
+straw is insupportable. Even if the medical authorities claimed
+alleviation for the consumptive patients alone, it would be an immense
+benefit, I assure you. I shall be told convicts are malefactors,
+unworthy of compassion; but ought increased severity to be shown towards
+him on whom the finger of God already weighs? No one will believe that
+the object of this aggravation is to reform the criminal. The
+consumptive prisoners are exempted from corporal punishment by the
+tribunal.
+
+There must be some mysterious, important reason for all this, but what
+it is, it is impossible to understand. No one believes--it is impossible
+to believe--that a consumptive man will run away. Who can think of such
+a thing, especially if the illness has reached a certain degree of
+intensity? It is impossible to deceive the doctors and make them mistake
+a convict in good health for one who is in a consumption, for this
+malady is one that can be recognised at the first glance. Moreover, can
+the irons prevent the convict not in good health from escaping? Not in
+the least. The irons are a degradation and shame, a physical and moral
+burden; but they would not hinder any one attempting to escape. The most
+awkward and least intelligent convict can saw through them, or break the
+rivets by hammering at them with a stone. Chains, then, are a useless
+precaution; and if the convicts wear them as a punishment, should not
+this punishment be spared to dying men?
+
+As I write these lines, a face stands out from my memory: that of a
+dying man, a man who died in consumption, this same Mikhailoff, whose
+bed was nearly opposite me, and who expired, I think, four days after my
+arrival at the hospital. When I spoke above of the consumptive patients,
+I was only reproducing involuntarily the sensations and ideas which
+occurred to me on the occasion of this death. I knew Mikhailoff very
+little; he was a young man of twenty-five at most, not very tall, thin,
+and with a fine face; he belonged to the “special section,” and was
+remarkable for his strange, but soft and sad taciturnity; he seemed to
+have “dried up” in the convict prison, to use an expression employed by
+the convicts who had a good recollection of him. I remember he had very
+fine eyes. I really cannot tell why I think of that.
+
+He died at three o’clock in the afternoon on a clear, dry day. The sun
+was darting its brilliant rays obliquely through the greenish, frozen
+panes of our room. A torrent of light inundated the unhappy patient, who
+had lost all consciousness, and was several hours dying. From the early
+morning his sight became confused; he was unable to recognise those who
+approached him. The convicts would gladly have done anything to relieve
+him, for they saw he was in great suffering. His respiration was
+painful, deep, and irregular; his breast rose and fell violently, as
+though he were in want of air; he cast his blanket and his clothes far
+from him. Then he began to tear up his shirt, which seemed to him a
+terrible burden. It was taken off. Then it was frightful to see this
+immensely long body, with fleshless arms and legs, with beating breast,
+and ribs which were as clearly marked as those of a skeleton. There was
+nothing now on this skeleton but a cross and the irons, from which his
+dried-up legs might easily have freed themselves. A quarter of an hour
+before his death everything was silent in our ward, and the inmates
+spoke only in whispers. The convicts walked on the tips of their toes.
+From time to time they exchanged remarks on other subjects, and cast a
+furtive glance at the dying man. The rattling in his throat grew more
+and more painful. At last, with a trembling hand, he felt the cross on
+his breast and endeavoured to tear it off; it was also weighing upon
+him, suffocating him. It was taken off. Ten minutes afterwards, he died.
+Some one then knocked at the door in order to give notice to the
+sentinel; the warder entered, looked at the dead man with a vacant air,
+and went away to get the assistant-surgeon. The assistant-surgeon was a
+good fellow enough, but a little too much occupied with his personal
+appearance, otherwise very agreeable; he soon arrived, went up to the
+corpse with long strides which made a noise in the silent ward, and
+felt the dead man’s pulse with an unconcerned air which seemed to have
+been put on for the occasion. He then made a vague gesture with his hand
+and went out.
+
+Information was given at the guard-house; for the criminal was an
+important one (he belonged to the special section), and in order to
+register his death it was necessary to go through some formalities.
+While we were waiting for the hospital guard to come, one of the
+prisoners said in a whisper, “The eyes of the defunct might as well be
+closed.” Another one profited by this remark, and approaching Mikhailoff
+in silence, closed his eyes; then perceiving on the pillow the cross
+which had been taken from his neck, he took it and looked at it, put it
+down, and crossed himself. The face of the dead man was becoming
+ossified; a ray of white light was playing on the surface and
+illuminated two rows of white, good teeth which sparkled between his
+thin lips, glued to the gums by the mouth.
+
+The non-commissioned officer on guard arrived at last, musket on
+shoulder, helmet on head, accompanied by two soldiers; he approached the
+corpse, slackening his pace with an air of uncertainty. Then he examined
+with a side glance the silent prisoners, who looked at him with a sombre
+expression. At one step from the dead man he stopped short, as if
+suddenly nailed to the spot; the naked, dried-up body, loaded with
+irons, had impressed him; he undid his chin-strap, removed his helmet
+(which was not at all necessary for him to do), and made the sign of the
+cross; he had a gray head, the head of a soldier who had seen much
+service. I remember that by his side stood Tchekounoff, an old man who
+was also gray. He looked all the time at the non-commissioned officer,
+and followed all his movements with strange attention. They glanced
+across, and I saw that Tchekounoff also trembled. He bit and closed his
+teeth, and said to the non-commissioned officer, as if involuntarily, at
+the same time nodding his head in the direction of the dead man, “He had
+a mother, too!”
+
+These words went to my heart. Why had he said them? and how did this
+idea occur to him? The corpse was raised with the mattress; the straw
+creaked, the chains dragged along the ground with a sharp ring; they
+were taken up and the body was carried out. Suddenly all spoke once more
+in a loud voice. The non-commissioned officer in the corridor could well
+be heard crying out to some one to go for the blacksmith. It was
+necessary to take the dead man’s irons off. But I have digressed from my
+subject.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE HOSPITAL (_continued_).
+
+
+The doctors used to visit the wards in the morning, towards eleven
+o’clock; they appeared all together, forming a procession, which was
+headed by the chief physician. An hour and a half before, the ordinary
+physician had made his round. He was a quiet young man, always affable
+and kind, much liked by the prisoners, and thoroughly versed in his art;
+they only found one fault with him, that he was “too soft.” He was, in
+fact, by no means communicative, he seemed confused in our presence,
+blushed sometimes, and changed the quantity of food at the first
+representation of the patient. I think he would have consented to give
+them any medicine they desired: in other respects an excellent young
+man.
+
+A doctor in Russia often enjoys the affection and respect of the people,
+and with reason, as far as I have been able to see. I know that my words
+would seem a paradox, above all when the mistrust of this same people
+for foreign drugs and foreign doctors is taken into account; in fact,
+they prefer, even when suffering from a serious illness, to address
+themselves year after year to a witch, or employ old women’s remedies
+(which, however, ought not to be despised), rather than consult a
+doctor, or go into the hospital. In truth, these prejudices may be
+above all attributed to causes which have nothing to do with medicine,
+namely, the mistrust of the people for anything which bears an official
+and administrative character; nor must it be forgotten that the common
+people are frightened and prejudiced in regard to the hospitals, by the
+stories, often absurd, of fantastic horrors said to take place within
+them. Perhaps, however, these stories have a basis of truth.
+
+But what repels them above all, is the Germanism of the hospitals, the
+idea that during their illness they will be attended to by foreigners,
+the severity of the diet, the heartlessness of the surgeons and doctors,
+the dissection and autopsy of the bodies, etc. The common people
+reflect, moreover, that they will be attended by nobles--for in their
+view the doctors belong to the nobility. Once they have made
+acquaintance with them (there are exceptions, no doubt, but they are
+rare), their fears vanish. This success must be attributed to our
+doctors, especially the young ones, who, for the most part, know how to
+gain the respect and affection of the people. I speak now of what I
+myself have seen and experienced in many cases and in different parts,
+and I think matters are the same everywhere. In some distant localities
+the doctors receive presents, make profit out of their hospitals, and
+neglect the patients; sometimes they forget even their art. This
+happens, no doubt; but I am speaking of the majority, inspired as it is
+by that spirit, that generous tendency which is regenerating the medical
+art. As for the apostates, the wolves in the sheep-fold, they may excuse
+themselves, and cast the blame on the circumstances amid which they
+live; but they are absurd, inexcusable, especially if they are no longer
+humane; it is precisely the humanity, affability, and brotherly
+compassion of the doctor which prove most efficacious remedies for the
+patients. It is time to stop these apathetic lamentations on the
+circumstances surrounding us. There may be truth in the lament, but a
+cunning rogue who knows how to take care of himself never fails to
+blame the circumstances around him when he wishes his faults to be
+forgiven--above all, if he writes or speaks with eloquence.
+
+I have again departed from my subject; I wish only to say that the
+common people mistrust and dislike officialism and the Government
+doctors, rather than the doctors themselves; but on personal
+acquaintance many prejudices disappear.
+
+Our doctor generally stopped before the bed of each patient, questioned
+him seriously and attentively, then prescribed the remedies, potions,
+etc. He sometimes noticed that the pretended invalid was not ill at all;
+he had come to take rest after his hard work, and to sleep on a mattress
+in a warm room, far preferable to the naked planks in a damp guard-house
+among a mass of pale, broken-down men, waiting for their trial. In
+Russia the prisoners in the House of Detention are almost always broken
+down, which shows that their moral and material condition is worse even
+than those of the convicts.
+
+In cases of feigned sickness our doctor would describe the patient as
+suffering from _febris catharalis_, and sometimes allowed him to remain
+a week in the hospital. Every one laughed at this _febris catharalis_,
+for it was known to be a formula agreed upon between the doctor and the
+patient to indicate no malady at all. Often the robust invalid who
+abused the doctor’s compassion remained in the hospital until he was
+turned out by force. Our doctor was worth seeing then. Confused by the
+prisoner’s obstinacy, he did not like to tell him plainly that he was
+cured and offer him his leaving ticket, although he had the right to
+send him away without the least explanation on writing the words,
+_sanat. est_. First he would hint to him that it was time to go, and
+then would beg him to leave.
+
+“You must go, you know you are cured now, and we have no place for you,
+we are very much cramped here, etc.”
+
+At last, ashamed to remain any longer, the patient would consent to go.
+The physician-in-chief, although compassionate and just (the patients
+were much attached to him), was incomparably more severe and more
+decided than our ordinary physician. In certain cases he showed
+merciless severity which only gained for him the respect of the
+convicts. He always came into the room accompanied by all the doctors of
+the hospital, when his assistants visited all the beds and diagnosed on
+each particular case; he stopped longest at the beds of those who were
+seriously ill, and had an encouraging word for them. He never sent back
+the convicts who arrived with _febris catharalis_; but if one of them
+was determined to remain in the hospital, he certified that the man was
+cured. “Come,” he would say, “you have had your rest; now go, you must
+not take liberties.”
+
+Those who insisted upon remaining, were, above all, the convicts who
+were worn out by field labour, performed during the great summer heat,
+or prisoners who had been sentenced to be whipped. I remember that they
+were obliged to be particularly severe, merely in order to get rid of
+one of them. He had come to be cured of some disease of the eyes, which
+were red all over; he complained of suffering a sharp pain in the
+eyelids. He was incurable; plasters, blisters, leeches, nothing did him
+any good; and the diseased organ remained in the same condition.
+
+Then it occurred to the doctors that the illness was feigned, for the
+inflammation neither became worse nor better; and they soon understood
+that a comedy was being played, although the patient would not admit it.
+He was a fine young fellow, not ill-looking, though he produced a
+disagreeable impression upon all his companions; he was suspicious,
+sombre, full of dissimulation, and never looked any one straight in the
+face; he also kept himself apart as if he mistrusted us all. I remember
+that many persons were afraid that he would do some one harm.
+
+When he was a soldier he had committed some small theft, he had been
+arrested and condemned to receive a thousand strokes, and afterwards to
+pass into a disciplinary company.
+
+To put off the moment of punishment, the prisoners, as I have already
+said, will do incredible things. On the eve of the fatal day, they will
+stick a knife into one of their chiefs, or into a comrade, in order that
+they may be tried again for this new offence, which will delay their
+punishment for a month or two. It matters little to them that their
+punishment be doubled or tripled, if they can escape this time. What
+they desire is to put off temporarily the terrible minute at whatever
+cost, so utterly does their heart fail them.
+
+Many of the patients thought the man with the sore eyes ought to be
+watched, lest in his despair he should assassinate some one during the
+night; but no precaution was taken, not even by those who slept next to
+him. It was remarked, however, that he rubbed his eyes with plaster from
+the wall, and with something else besides, in order that they might
+appear red when the doctor came round; at last the doctor-in-chief
+threatened to cure him by-means of a seton.
+
+When the malady resists all ordinary treatment, the doctors determine to
+try some heroic, however painful, remedy. But the poor devil did not
+wish to get well, he was either too obstinate or too cowardly; for,
+however painful the proposed operation may be, it cannot be compared to
+the punishment of the rods.
+
+The operation consists in seizing the patient by the nape of the neck,
+taking up the skin, drawing it back as much as possible, and making in
+it a double incision, through which is passed a skein of cotton about as
+thick as the finger. Every day at a fixed hour this skein is pulled
+backwards and forwards in order that the wound may continually suppurate
+and may not heal; the poor devil endured this torture which caused him
+horrible suffering, for several days.
+
+At last he consented to quit the hospital. In less than a day his eyes
+became quite well; and, as soon as his neck was healed, he was sent to
+the guard-house which he left next day to receive the first thousand
+strokes.
+
+Painful is the minute which precedes such a punishment; so painful, that
+perhaps I am wrong in taxing with cowardice those convicts who fear it.
+
+It must be terrible; for the convicts to risk a double or triple
+punishment, merely to postpone it. I have spoken, however, of convicts
+who have thus wished to quit the hospital before the wounds caused by
+the first part of the flogging were healed, in order to receive the last
+part and make an end of it. For life in a guard-room is certainly worse
+than in a convict prison.
+
+The habit of receiving floggings helps in some cases to give intrepidity
+and decision to convicts. Those who have been often flogged, are
+hardened both in body and mind, and have at last looked upon such a
+punishment as merely a disagreeable incident no longer to be feared.
+
+One of our convicts of the special section was a converted Tartar, who
+was named Alexander, or Alexandrina, as they called him in fun at the
+convict prison; who told me how he had received 4,000 strokes. He never
+spoke of this punishment except with amusement and laughter; but he
+swore very seriously that if he had not been brought up in his horde,
+from his most tender infancy, on whipping and flogging--and as the scars
+which covered his back, and which refused to disappear, were there to
+testify--he would never have been able to support those 4,000 strokes.
+He blessed the education of sticks that he had received.
+
+“I was beaten for the least thing, Alexander Petrovitch,” he said one
+evening, when we were sitting down before the fire. “I was beaten
+without reason for fifteen years, as long as I can ever remember, and
+several times a day. Any one who liked beat me; so that, at last, it
+made no impression upon me.”
+
+I do not know how it was he became a soldier, for perhaps he lied, and
+had always been a deserter and vagabond. But I remember his telling me
+one day of the fright he was seized with when he was condemned to
+receive 4,000 strokes for having killed one of his officers.
+
+“I know that they will punish me severely,” he said to himself, “that,
+accustomed as I am to be whipped, I shall perhaps die on the spot. The
+devil! 4,000 strokes is not a trifle; and then all my officers were in a
+fearful temper with me on account of this affair. I knew well that it
+would not be ‘rose-water.’ I even believed that I should die under the
+rods. I determined to get baptized. I said to myself, that perhaps they
+would not then flog me, at any rate it was worth trying, my comrades had
+told me that it would be of no good. But,’ I said to myself, ‘who knows?
+perhaps they will pardon me, they will have more compassion on a
+Christian than on a Mohammedan. They baptized me, and give me the name
+of Alexander; but, in spite of that, I had to take my flogging; they did
+not let me off a single stroke; I was, however, very savage. ‘Wait a
+bit,’ I said to myself, ‘and I will take you all in’; and, would you
+believe it, Alexander? I did take them all in. I knew how to look like a
+dead man; not that I appeared altogether without life, but I looked as
+if I were on the point of breathing my last. They led me in front of the
+battalion to receive my first thousand; my skin was burning, I began to
+howl. They gave me my second thousand, and I said to myself, ‘It’s all
+over now.’ I had lost my head, my legs seemed broken, so I fell to the
+ground, with the eyes of a dead man. My face blue, my mouth full of
+froth, I no longer breathed. When the doctor came he said I was on the
+point of death. I was carried to the hospital, and at once returned to
+life. Twice again they flogged me. What a rage they were in! I took them
+all in on each occasion. I received my third thousand, and died again.
+On my word, when they gave me the last thousand each stroke ought to
+have counted for three, it was like a knife in my heart. Oh, how they
+did beat me! They were so severe with me. Oh, that cursed fourth
+thousand! it was well worth three firsts put together. If I had
+pretended to be dead when I had still 200 to receive, I think they would
+have finished me; but they did not get the better of me. I had them
+again and again, for they always thought it was all over with me, and
+how could they have thought otherwise? The doctor was sure of it. But as
+for the 200 which I had still to receive, they might have struck as hard
+as they liked--they were worth 2,000; I only laughed at them. Why?
+Because, when I was a youngster, I had grown up under the whip. Well, I
+am well, and alive now; but I have been beaten in the course of my
+life,” he repeated, with a passive air, as he brought his story to an
+end. As he did so, he seemed to recollect and count anew the blows he
+had received.
+
+After a brief silence, he said: “I cannot count them, nor can any one
+else; there are not figures enough.” He looked at me, and burst into a
+laugh, so simple and natural, that I could not help smiling in return.
+
+“Do you know, Alexander Petrovitch, when I dream at night, I always
+dream that I am being flogged. I dream of nothing else.” He, in fact,
+talked in his sleep, and woke up the other prisoners.
+
+“What are you yelling about, you demon?” they would say to him.
+
+This strong, robust fellow, short in stature, about forty-four years of
+age, active, good-looking, lived on good terms with every one, though he
+was very fond of taking what did not belong to him, and afterwards got
+beaten for it. But each of our convicts who stole got beaten for their
+thefts.
+
+I will add to these remarks that I was always surprised at the
+extraordinary good-nature, the absence of rancour with which these
+unhappy men spoke of their punishment, and of the chiefs superintending
+it. In these stories, which often gave me palpitation of the heart, not
+a shadow of hatred or rancour could be detected; they laughed at what
+they had suffered like children.
+
+It was not the same, however, with M--tçki, when he told me of his
+punishment. As he was not a noble, he had been sentenced to be flogged.
+He had never spoken to me of it, and when I asked him if it were true,
+he replied affirmatively in two brief words, but with evident suffering,
+and without looking at me. He at the same time turned red, and when he
+raised his eyes, I saw flames burning in them, while his lips trembled
+with indignation. I felt that he would not forget, that he could never
+forget this page of his history. Our companions generally on the other
+hand (though theirs might have been exceptions), looked upon their
+adventures with quite another eye. It is impossible, I sometimes
+thought, that they can be conscious of their guilt, and not acknowledge
+the justice of their punishment; above all, when their offences were
+against their companions and not against some chief. The greater part of
+them did not acknowledge their guilt. I have already said that I never
+observed in them the least remorse, even when the crime had been
+committed against people of their own station. As for the crimes
+committed against a chief, they did not even speak of them. It seems to
+me that for those cases, they had special views of their own. They
+looked upon them as accidents caused by destiny, by fatality, into which
+they had fallen unconsciously as the result of some extraordinary
+impulse. The convict always justifies the crimes he has committed
+against his chief; he does not trouble himself about the matter. But he
+admits that the chief cannot share his view, and consequently, that he
+must naturally be punished, and then he will be quits with him.
+
+The struggle between the administration and the prisoner is of the
+severest character on both sides. What in a great measure justifies the
+criminal in his own eyes, is his conviction that the people among whom
+he has been born and has lived will acquit him. He is certain that the
+common people will not look upon him as a lost man, unless, indeed, his
+crime has bean committed against persons of his own class, against his
+brethren. He is quite calm about that; supported by his conscience, he
+will not lose his moral tranquillity, and that is the principal thing.
+He feels himself on firm ground, and has no particular hatred for the
+knout, when once it has been administered to him. He knows that it was
+inevitable, and consoles himself by thinking that he was neither the
+first nor the last to receive it. Does the soldier detest the Turk whom
+he fights? Not in the least! yet he sabres him, hacks him to pieces,
+kills him.
+
+It must not be thought, moreover, that all of these stories were told
+with indifference and in cold blood.
+
+When the name of Jerebiatnikof was mentioned, it was always with
+indignation. I made the acquaintance of this officer during my first
+stay in the hospital--only by the convicts’ stories, it must be
+understood. I afterwards saw him one day when he was commanding the
+guard at the convict prison; he was about thirty years old, very stout
+and very strong, with red cheeks hanging down on each side, white teeth,
+and a formidable laugh. One could see in a moment that he was in no way
+given to reflection. He took the greatest pleasure in whipping and
+flogging, when he had to superintend the punishment. I must hasten to
+say that the other officers looked upon Jerebiatnikof as a monster, and
+the convicts did the same. This was in the good old time, which is not
+very very far off, but in which it is already difficult to believe
+executioners delighted in their office. But, generally speaking, the
+strokes were administered without enthusiasm.
+
+This lieutenant was an exception, and he took a real pleasure and
+delight in punishment. He had a passion for it, and liked it for its own
+sake; he looked to this art for unnatural delights in order to tickle
+and excite his base soul. A prisoner is conducted to the place of
+punishment. Jerebiatnikof is the officer superintending the execution.
+Arranging a long line of soldiers, armed with heavy rods, he walks along
+the front with a satisfied air, and encourages each one to do his duty,
+conscientiously or otherwise--the soldiers know before what “otherwise”
+means. The criminal is brought out. If he does not yet know
+Jerebiatnikof, if he is not in the secret of the mystery, the Lieutenant
+plays him the following trick--one of the inventions of Jerebiatnikof,
+very ingenious in this style of thing. The prisoner, whose back has been
+bared, and whom the non-commissioned officers have fastened to the butt
+end of a musket in order to drag him afterwards through the whole length
+of the “Green Street.” He begs the officer in charge, with a plaintive
+and tearful voice, not to have him struck too hard, not to double the
+punishment by any undue severity.
+
+“Your nobility!” cries the unhappy wretch, “have pity on me, treat me
+fraternally, so that I may pray God throughout my life for you. Do not
+destroy me, show mercy!”
+
+Jerebiatnikof had waited for this. He now suspended the execution, and
+engaged the prisoner in conversation, speaking to him in a sentimental,
+compassionate tone.
+
+“But, my good fellow,” he would say, “what am I to do? It is the law
+that punishes you--it is the law.”
+
+“Your nobility! You can make it everything; have pity upon me.”
+
+“Do you really think that I have no pity on you? Do you think it is any
+pleasure to me to see you whipped? I am a man, am I not? Answer me, am I
+not a man?”
+
+“Certainly, your nobility. We know that the officers are our fathers and
+we their children. Be to me a venerable father,” the prisoner would cry,
+seeing some possibility of escaping punishment.
+
+“Then, my friend, judge for yourself. You have a brain to think with,
+you know I am human, I ought to take compassion on you, sinner though
+you be.”
+
+“Your nobility says the absolute truth.”
+
+“Yes, I ought to be merciful to you however guilty you may be. But it
+is not I who punish you, it is the law. I serve God and my country, and
+consequently I commit a grave sin if I mitigate the punishment fixed by
+the law. Only think of that!”
+
+“Your nobility!”
+
+“Well, what am I to do? Only think, I know that I am doing wrong, but it
+shall be as you wish; I will have mercy upon you, you shall be punished
+lightly. But if I really do this on one occasion, if I show mercy, if I
+punish you lightly, you will think that at another time I shall be
+merciful, and you will recommence your follies. What do you say to
+that?”
+
+“Your nobility, preserve me! Before the throne of the heavenly Creator,
+I----”
+
+“No, no; you swear that you will behave yourself.”
+
+“May the Lord cause me to die this moment and in the next world.”
+
+“Do not swear in that way, it is a sin; I shall believe you if you will
+give me your word.”
+
+“Your nobility.”
+
+“Well, listen, I will have mercy on you on account of your tears, your
+orphan’s tears, for you are an orphan, are you not?”
+
+“Orphan on both sides, your nobility, I am alone in the world.”
+
+“Well, on account of your orphan’s tears I have pity on you,” he added,
+in a voice so full of emotion, that the prisoner could not sufficiently
+thank God for having sent him so good an officer.
+
+The procession went out, the drum rolled, the soldiers brandished their
+arms. “Flog him,” Jerebiatnikof would roar from the bottom of his lungs,
+“flog him! burn him! skin him alive! Harder! harder! Give it harder to
+this orphan! Give it him, the rogue.”
+
+The soldiers lay on the strokes with all their might on the back of the
+unhappy wretch, whose eyes dart fire, and who howls while Jerebiatnikof
+runs after him in front of the line, holding his sides with
+laughter--he puffs and blows so that he can scarcely hold himself
+upright. He is happy. He thinks it droll. From time to time his
+formidable resonant laugh is heard, as he keeps on repeating, “Flog him!
+thrash him! this brigand! this orphan!”
+
+He had composed variation on this motive. The prisoner has been brought
+to undergo his punishment. He begs the lieutenant to have pity on him.
+This time Jerebiatnikof does not play the hypocrite; he is frank with
+the prisoner.
+
+“Look, my dear fellow, I will punish you as you deserve, but I can show
+you one act of mercy. I will not attach you to the butt end of the
+musket, you shall go along in a new style, you have only to run as hard
+as you can along the front, each rod will strike you as a matter of
+course, but it will be over sooner. What do you say to that, will you
+try?”
+
+The prisoner, who has listened, full of mistrust and doubt, says to
+himself: Perhaps this way will not be so bad as the other. If I run with
+all my might, it will not last quite so long, and perhaps all the rods
+will not touch me.
+
+“Well, your nobility, I consent.”
+
+“I also consent. Come, mind your business,” cries the lieutenant to the
+soldiers. He knew beforehand that not one rod would spare the back of
+the unfortunate wretch; the soldier who failed to hit him would know
+what to expect.
+
+The convict tries to run along the “Green Street,” but he does not go
+beyond fifteen men before the rods rain upon his poor spine like hail;
+so that the unfortunate man shrieks out, and falls as if he had been
+struck by a bullet.
+
+“No, your nobility, I prefer to be flogged in the ordinary way,” he
+says, managing to get up, pale and frightened. While Jerebiatnikof, who
+knew beforehand how this affair would end, held his sides and burst into
+a laugh.
+
+But I cannot relate all the diversions invented by him, and all that
+was told about him.
+
+My companions also spoke of a Lieutenant Smekaloff, who fulfilled the
+functions of Commandant before the arrival of our present Major. They
+spoke of Jerebiatnikof with indifference, without hatred, but also
+without exalting his high achievements. They did not praise him, they
+simply despised him, whilst at the name of Smekaloff the whole prison
+burst into a chorus of laudation. The Lieutenant was by no means fond of
+administering the rods; there was nothing in him of Jerebiatnikof’s
+disposition. How did it happen that the convicts remembered his
+punishments, severe as they were, with sweet satisfaction. How did he
+manage to please them. How did he gain the popularity he certainly
+enjoyed?
+
+Our companions, like Russian people in general, were ready to forget
+their tortures if a kind word was said to them; I speak of the effect
+itself without analysing or examining it. It is not difficult, then, to
+gain the affections of such a people and become popular. Lieutenant
+Smekaloff had gained such popularity, and when the punishments he had
+directed were spoken of, they were always mentioned with a certain
+sympathy.
+
+“He was as kind as a father,” the convicts would sometimes say, as, with
+a sigh, they compared him with their present chief, the Major who had
+replaced him.
+
+He was a simple-minded man, and kind in a manner. There are chiefs who
+are naturally kind and merciful, but who are not at all liked and are
+laughed at; whereas, Smekaloff had so managed that all the prisoners had
+a special regard for him; this was due to innate qualities, which those
+who possess them do not understand. Strange thing! There are men who are
+far from being kind, and who have yet the talent of making themselves
+popular; they do not despise the people who are beneath their rule.
+That, I think, is the cause of this popularity. They do not give
+themselves lordly airs; they have no feeling of “caste;” they have a
+certain odour of the people; they are men of birth, and the people at
+once sniff it. They will do anything for such men; they will gladly
+change the mildest and most humane man for a very severe chief, if the
+latter possesses this sort of odour, and especially if the man is also
+genial in his way. Oh! then he is beyond price.
+
+Lieutenant Smekaloff, as I have said, ordered sometimes very severe
+punishments. But he seemed to inflict them in such a way, that the
+prisoners felt no rancour against him. On the contrary, they recalled
+his whipping affairs with laughter; he did not punish frequently, for he
+had no artistic imagination. He had invented only one practical joke, a
+single one which amused him for nearly a year in our convict prison.
+This joke was dear to him, probably, because it was his only one, and it
+was not without humour.
+
+Smekaloff assisted himself at the executions, joking all the time, and
+laughing at the prisoner as he questioned him about the most
+out-of-the-way things, such, for instance, as his private affairs. He
+did this without any bad motive, and simply because he really wished to
+know something about the man’s affairs. A chair was brought to him,
+together with the rods which were to be used for chastising the
+prisoner. The Lieutenant sat down and lighted his long pipe; the
+prisoner implored him.
+
+“No, comrade, lie down. What is the matter with you?”
+
+The convict stretched himself on the ground with a sigh.
+
+“Can you read fluently?”
+
+“Of course, your nobility; I am baptized, and I was taught to read when
+I was a child.”
+
+“Then read this.”
+
+The convict knows beforehand what he is to read, and knows how the
+reading will end, because this joke has been repeated more than thirty
+times; but Smekaloff knows also that the convict is not his dupe any
+more than the soldier who now holds the rods suspended over the back of
+the unhappy victim. The convict begins to read; the soldiers armed with
+the rods await motionless. Smekaloff ceases even to smoke, raises his
+hand, and waits for a word fixed upon beforehand. At the word, which
+from some double meaning might be interpreted as the order to start, the
+Lieutenant raises his hand, and the flogging begins. The officer bursts
+into a laugh, and the soldiers around him also laugh; the man who is
+whipping laughs, and the man who is being whipped also.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE HOSPITAL[4] (_continued_).
+
+
+I have spoken here of punishments and of those who have administered
+them, because I got a very clear idea on the subject during my stay in
+the hospital. Until then I knew of them only by general report. In our
+room were confined all the prisoners from the battalion who were to
+receive the spitzruten [rods], as well as those from the military
+establishment in our town and in the district surrounding it.
+
+During my first few days I looked at all that surrounded me with such
+greedy eyes that these strange manners, these men who had just been
+flogged or were about to be flogged, left upon me a terrible impression.
+I was agitated, frightened.
+
+As I listened to the conversation or narratives of the other prisoners
+on this subject, I put to myself questions which I endeavoured in vain
+to solve. I wished to know all the degrees of the sentences; the
+punishments, and their shades; and to learn the opinion of the convicts
+themselves. I tried to represent to myself the psychological condition
+of the men flogged.
+
+It rarely happened, as I have already said, that the prisoner approached
+the fatal moment in cold blood, even if he had been beaten several times
+before. The condemned man experiences a fear which is very terrible, but
+purely physical--an unconscious fear which upsets his moral nature.
+
+During my several years’ stay in the convict prison I was able to study
+at leisure the prisoners who wished to leave the hospital, where they
+had remained some time to have their damaged backs cured before
+receiving the second half of their punishment. This interruption in the
+punishment is always called for by the doctor who assists at the
+execution.
+
+If the number of strokes to be received is too great for them to be
+administered all at once, it is divided according to advice given by the
+doctor on the spot. It is for him to see if the prisoner is in a
+condition to undergo the whole of his punishment, or if his life is in
+danger.
+
+Five hundred, one thousand, and even one thousand five hundred strokes
+with the stick are administered at once. But if it is two or three
+thousand the punishment is divided into two or three doses.
+
+Those whose back had been cured after the first administration, and who
+are to undergo a second, were sad, sombre and silent the day they went
+out, and the evening before. They were almost in a state of torpor. They
+engaged in no conversation, and remained perfectly silent.
+
+It is worthy of remark that the prisoners avoid addressing those who are
+about to be punished, and, above all, never make any allusion to the
+subject, neither in consolation nor in superfluous words. No attention
+whatever is paid to them, which is certainly the best thing for the
+prisoner.
+
+There are exceptions, however.
+
+The convict Orloff, of whom I have already spoken, was sorry that his
+back did not get more quickly cured, for he was anxious to get his
+leave-ticket in order that he might take the rest of his flogging, and
+then be assigned to a convoy of prisoners, when he meant to escape
+during the journey. He had a passionate, ardent nature, and with only
+that object in view.
+
+A cunning rascal, he seemed very pleased when he first came; but he was
+in a state of abnormal excitement, though he endeavoured to conceal it.
+He had been afraid of being left on the ground, and dying before half of
+his punishment had been undergone. He had heard steps taken in his case,
+by the authorities, when he was still being tried, and he thought he
+could not survive the punishment. But when he had received his first
+dose he recovered his courage.
+
+When he came to the hospital I had never seen such wounds as his; but he
+was in the best spirits. He now hoped to be able to live. The stories
+which had reached him were untrue, or the execution would not have been
+interrupted.
+
+He now began to think of a long Siberian journey, possibly of escaping
+to liberty, fields, and forests.
+
+Two days after he had left the hospital he came back to die--on the very
+couch which he had occupied during my stay there.
+
+He had been unable to support the second half of his punishment; but I
+have already spoken of this man.
+
+All the prisoners without exception, even the most pusillanimous, even
+those who were beforehand tormented night and day, supported it
+courageously when it came. I scarcely ever heard groans during the night
+following the execution; our people, as a rule, knew how to endure pain.
+
+I questioned my companion often in reference to this pain, that I might
+know to what kind of suffering it might be compared. It was no idle
+curiosity which urged me. I repeat that I was moved and frightened; but
+it was in vain, I could get no satisfactory reply.
+
+“It burns like fire!” was the general answer; they all said the same
+thing.
+
+First I tried to question M--tski. “It burns like fire! like hell! It
+seems as if one’s back were in a furnace.”
+
+I made one day a strange observation, which may or may not have been
+well founded, although the opinion of the convicts themselves confirms
+my views; namely, that the rods are the most terrible punishment in use
+among us.
+
+At first it seems absurd, impossible, yet five hundred strokes of the
+rods, four hundred even, are enough to kill a man. Beyond five hundred
+death is almost certain; the most robust man will be unable to support a
+thousand rods, whereas five hundred sticks are endured without much
+inconvenience, and without the least risk in the world of losing one’s
+life. A man of ordinary build supports a thousand sticks without danger;
+even two thousand sticks will not kill a man of ordinary strength and
+constitution. All the convicts declared that rods were worse than sticks
+or ramrods.
+
+“Rods hurt more and torture more!” they said.
+
+They must torture more than sticks, that is certain, that is evident;
+for they irritate much more forcibly the nervous system, which they
+excite beyond measure. I do not know whether any person still exists,
+but such did a short time ago, to whom the whipping of a victim procured
+a delight which recalls the Marquis de Sade and the Marchioness
+Brinvilliers. I think this delight must consist in the sinking of the
+heart, and that these nobles must have experienced pain and delight at
+the same time.
+
+There are people who, like tigers, are greedy for blood. Those who have
+possessed unlimited power over the flesh, blood, and soul of their
+fellow-creatures, of their brethren according to the law of Christ,
+those who have possessed this power and who have been able to degrade
+with a supreme degradation, another being made in the image of God;
+these men are incapable of resisting their desires and their thirst for
+sensations. Tyranny is a habit capable of being developed, and at last
+becomes a disease. I declare that the best man in the world can become
+hardened and brutified to such a point, that nothing will distinguish
+him from a wild beast. Blood and power intoxicate; they aid the
+development of callousness and debauchery; the mind then becomes capable
+of the most abnormal cruelty in the form of pleasure; the man and the
+citizen disappear for ever in the tyrant; and then a return to human
+dignity, repentance, moral resurrection, becomes almost impossible.
+
+That the possibility of such license has a contagious effect on the
+whole of society there is no doubt. A society which looks upon such
+things with an indifferent eye, is already infected to the marrow. In a
+word, the right granted to a man to inflict corporal punishment on his
+fellow-men, is one of the plague-spots of our society. It is the means
+of annihilating all civic spirit. Such a right contains in germ the
+elements of inevitable, imminent decomposition.
+
+Society despises an executioner by trade, but not a lordly executioner.
+Every manufacturer, every master of works, must feel an irritating
+pleasure when he reflects that the workman he has beneath his orders is
+dependent upon him with the whole of his family. A generation does not,
+I am sure, extirpate so quickly what is hereditary in it. A man cannot
+renounce what is in his blood, what has been transmitted to him with his
+mother’s milk; these revolutions are not accomplished so quickly. It is
+not enough to confess one’s fault. That is very little! Very little
+indeed! It must be rooted out, and that is not done so quickly.
+
+I have spoken of the executioners. The instincts of an executioner are
+in germ in nearly every one of our contemporaries; but the animal
+instincts of the man have not developed themselves in a uniform manner.
+When they stifle all other faculties, the man becomes a hideous monster.
+
+There are two kinds of executioners, those who of their own will are
+executioners and those who are executioners by duty, by reason of
+office. He who, by his own will, is an executioner, is in all respects
+below the salaried executioner, whom, however, the people look upon with
+repugnance, and who inspires them with disgust, with instinctive
+mystical fear. Whence comes this almost superstitious horror for the
+latter, when one is only indifferent and indulgent to the former?
+
+I know strange examples of honourable men, kind, esteemed by all their
+friends, who found it necessary that a culprit should be whipped until
+he would implore and beg for mercy; it seemed to them a natural thing, a
+thing recognised as indispensable. If the victim did not choose to cry
+out, his executioner, whom in other respects I should consider a good
+man, looked upon it as a personal offence; he meant, in the first
+instance, to inflict only a light punishment, but directly he failed to
+hear the habitual supplications, “Your nobility!” “Have mercy!” “Be a
+father to me!” “Let me thank God all my life!” he became furious, and
+ordered that fifty more blows should be administered, hoping thus, at
+last, to obtain the necessary cries and supplications; and at last they
+came.
+
+“Impossible! he is too insolent,” cried the man in question, very
+seriously.
+
+As for the executioner by office, he is a convict who has been chosen
+for this function. He passes an apprenticeship with an old hand, and as
+soon as he knows his trade remains in the convict prison, where he lives
+by himself. He has a room, which he shares with no one. Sometimes,
+indeed, he has a separate establishment, but he is always under guard. A
+man is not a machine. Although he whips by virtue of his office, he
+sometimes becomes furious, and beats with a certain pleasure.
+Notwithstanding he has no hatred for his victim, a desire to show his
+skill in the art of whipping may sharpen his vanity. He works as an
+artist; he knows well that he is a reprobate, and that he excites
+everywhere superstitious dread. It is impossible that this should
+exercise no influence upon him, and not irritate his brutal instincts.
+
+Even little children say that this man has neither father nor mother.
+Strange thing!
+
+All the executioners I have known were intelligent men, possessing a
+certain degree of conceit. This conceit became developed in them through
+the contempt which they everywhere met with, and was strengthened,
+perhaps, by the consciousness of the fear with which they inspired their
+victims, and of the power over unfortunate wretches.
+
+The theatrical paraphernalia surrounding them developed, perhaps, in
+them a certain arrogance. I had for some time an opportunity of meeting
+and observing at close quarters an ordinary executioner. He was a man
+about forty, muscular, dry, with an agreeable, intelligent face,
+surrounded by long curly hair. His manners were quiet and grave, his
+general demeanour becoming. He replied clearly and sensibly to all
+questions put to him, but with a sort of condescension as if he were in
+some way my superior. The officers of the guard spoke to him with a
+certain respect, which he fully appreciated, for which reason, in
+presence of his chiefs, he became polite, and more dignified than ever.
+
+He never departed from the most refined politeness. I am sure that, when
+I was speaking to him, he felt incomparably superior to the man who was
+addressing him. I could read that in his countenance. Sometimes he was
+sent under escort, in summer, when it was very hot, to kill the dogs of
+the town with a long, very thin spear. These wandering dogs increased in
+numbers with such prodigious rapidity, and became so dangerous during
+the dog days, that, by the decision of the authorities, the executioner
+was ordered to destroy them. This degrading duty did not in any way
+humiliate him. It should have been seen with what gravity he walked
+through the streets of the town, accompanied by a soldier escorting him;
+how, with a single glance, he frightened the women and children; and
+how, from the height of his grandeur, he looked down upon the passers-by
+generally.
+
+Executioners live at their ease. They have money to travel comfortably,
+and drink vodka. They derive most of their income from presents which
+the prisoners condemned to be flogged slip into their hands before the
+execution. When they have to do with convicts who are rich, they then
+fix a sum to be paid in proportion to the means of the victim. They will
+exact thirty roubles, sometimes more. The executioner has no right to
+spare his victim; and he does so at the risk of his own back. But for a
+suitable present he agrees not to strike too hard. People almost always
+give what he asks; should they in any case refuse, he would strike like
+a savage; and it is in his power to do so. He sometimes exacts a heavy
+sum from a man who is very poor. Then all the relations of the victim
+are put in movement. They bargain, try and beat him down, supplicate
+him; but it will not be well if they do not succeed in satisfying him.
+In such a case the superstitious fear inspired by the executioner stands
+them in good part. I had been told the most wonderful things--that at
+one blow the executioner can kill his man.
+
+“Is this your experience?” I asked.
+
+Perhaps so. Who knows? Their tone seemed to decide, if there could be
+any doubt about it. They also told me that he can strike a criminal in
+such a way that he will not feel the least pain, and without leaving a
+scar.
+
+Even when the executioner receives a present not to whip too severely,
+he gives the first blow with all his strength. It is the custom! Then he
+administers the other blows with less severity, above all if he has been
+well paid.
+
+I do not know why this is done. Is it to prepare the victim for the
+succeeding blows, which will appear less painful after the first cruel
+one; or do they want to frighten the criminal, so that he may know with
+whom he has to deal; or do they simply wish to display their vigour from
+vanity? In any case the executioner is slightly excited before the
+execution, and he is conscious of his strength and of his power. He is
+acting at the time; the public admires him, and is filled with terror.
+Accordingly, it is not without satisfaction that he cries out to his
+victim, “Look out! you are going to have it!”--customary and fatal words
+which precede the first blow.
+
+It is difficult to imagine a human being degraded to such a point.
+
+The first day of my stay at the hospital I listened attentively to the
+stories of the convicts, which broke the monotony of the long days.
+
+In the morning, the doctor’s visit was the first diversion. Then came
+dinner, which it will be believed was the most important affair of our
+daily life. The portions were different according to the nature of the
+illness: some of the prisoners received nothing but broth with groats in
+it; others nothing but gruel; others a kind of semolina, which was much
+liked. The convicts ended by becoming effeminate and fastidious. The
+convalescents received a piece of boiled beef. The best food, which was
+reserved for the scorbutic patients, consisted of roast beef with
+onions, horseradish, and sometimes a small glass of spirits. The bread
+was, according to the illness, black or brown; the precision preserved
+in distributing the rations would make the patients laugh.
+
+There were some who took absolutely nothing; the portions were exchanged
+in such a way that the food intended for one patient was eaten by
+another: those who were being kept on low diet, who received only small
+rations, bought those of the scorbutic patients; others would give any
+price for meat. There were some who ate two entire portions; it cost
+them a good deal, for they were generally sold at five kopecks each. If
+one had no meat to sell in our room the warder was sent to another
+section, and if he could not find any there he was asked to get some
+from the military “infirmary”--the free infirmary, as we called it.
+
+There were always patients ready to sell their rations; poverty was
+general, and those who possessed a few kopecks used to send out to buy
+cakes and white bread, or other delicacies, at the market. Warders
+executed these commissions in a disinterested manner. The most painful
+moment was that which followed the dinner; some went to sleep, if they
+had no other way of passing their time; others either wrangled or told
+stories in a loud voice.
+
+When no new patients were brought in, everything became very dull. The
+arrival of a new patient caused always a certain excitement, above all,
+if no one knew anything about him; he was questioned about his past
+life.
+
+The most interesting ones were the birds of passage: they had always
+something to tell.
+
+Of course they never spoke of their own little faults. If the prisoner
+did not enter upon this subject himself, no one questioned him about it.
+
+The only thing he was asked was, what quarter he came from? who were
+with him on the road? what state the road was in? where he was being
+taken to? etc. Stimulated by the stories of the new comers, our comrades
+in their turn began to tell what they had seen and done; what was most
+talked about was the convoys, those in command of them, the men who
+carried the sentences into execution.
+
+About this time, too, towards evening, the convicts who had been
+scourged came up; they always made a rather strong impression, as I have
+said; but it was not every day that any of these were brought to us, and
+everybody was bored to extinction, when nothing happened to give a
+fillip to the general relaxed and indolent state of feeling. It seemed,
+then, as though the sick themselves were exasperated at the very sight
+of those near them. Sometimes they squabbled violently.
+
+Our convicts were in high glee when a madman was taken off for medical
+examination; sometimes those who were sentenced to be scourged, feigned
+insanity that they might get off. The trick was found out, or it would
+sometimes be that they voluntarily gave up the pretence. Prisoners, who
+during two or three days had done all sorts of wild things, suddenly
+became steady and sensible people, quieted down, and, with a gloomy
+smile, asked to be taken out of the hospital. Neither the other convicts
+nor the doctors said a word of remonstrance to them about the deceit, or
+brought up the subject of their mad pranks. Their names were put down on
+a list without a word being said, and they were simply taken elsewhere;
+after the lapse of some days they came back to us with their backs all
+wounds and blood.
+
+On the other hand, the arrival of a genuine lunatic was a miserable
+thing to see all through the place. Those of the mentally unsound who
+were gay, lively, who uttered cries, danced, sang, were greeted at first
+with enthusiasm by the convicts.
+
+“Here’s fun!” said they, as they looked on the grins and contortions of
+the unfortunates. But the sight was horribly painful and sad. I have
+never been able to look upon the mad calmly or with indifference. There
+was one who was kept three weeks in our room: we would have hidden
+ourselves, had there been any place to do it. When things were at the
+worst they brought in another. This one affected me very powerfully.
+
+In the first year, or, to be more exact, during the first month of my
+exile, I went to work with a gang of kiln men to the tileries situate at
+two versts from our prison. We were set to repairing the kiln in which
+the bricks were baked in summer. That morning, in which M--tski and B.
+made me acquainted with the non-commissioned officer, superintendent of
+the works. This was a Pole already well on in life, sixty years old at
+least, of high stature, lean, of decent and even somewhat imposing
+exterior. He had been a long time in service in Siberia, and although he
+belonged to the lower orders he had been a soldier, and in the rising of
+1830--M--tski and B. loved and esteemed him. He was always reading the
+Vulgate. I spoke to him; his talk was agreeable and intelligent; he told
+a story in a most interesting way; he was straightforward and of
+excellent temper. For two years I never saw him again, all I heard was
+that he had become a “case,” and that they were inquiring into it; and
+then one fine day they brought him into our room; he had gone quite mad.
+
+He came in yelling, uttering shouts of laughter, and began to dance in
+the middle of the room with indecent gestures which recalled the dance
+known as Kamarinskaïa.
+
+The convicts were wild with enthusiasm; but, for my part, account for it
+as you will, I felt utterly miserable. Three days after, we were all of
+us upset with it; he got into violent disputes with everybody, fought,
+groaned, sang in the dead of the night; his aberrations were so
+inordinate and disgusting as to bring our very stomachs up.
+
+He feared nobody. They put the strait-waistcoat on him; but we were no
+whit better off for it, for he went on quarreling and fighting all
+round. At the end of three weeks, the room put up an unanimous entreaty
+to the head doctor that he might be removed to the other apartment
+reserved for the convicts. But after two days, at the request of the
+sick people in that other room, they brought him back to our infirmary.
+As we had two madmen there at once, both rooms kept sending them back
+and forward, and ended by taking one or the other of the two lunatics,
+turn and turn about. Everybody breathed more freely when they took them
+away from us, a good way off, somewhere or other.
+
+There was another lunatic whom I remember--a very remarkable creature.
+They had brought in, during the summer, a man under sentence, who
+looked like a solid and vigorous fellow enough, of about forty-five
+years. His face was sombre and sad, pitted with small-pox, with little
+red and swollen eyes. He sat down by my side. He was extremely quiet;
+spoke to nobody, and seemed utterly absorbed in his own deep
+reflections.
+
+Night fell; then he addressed me, and, without a word of preface, told
+me in a hurried and excited way--as if it were a mighty secret he were
+confiding--that he was to have two thousand strokes with the rod; but
+that he had nothing to fear, as the daughter of Colonel G---- was taking
+steps on his behalf.
+
+I looked at him with surprise, and observed that, as I saw the affair,
+the daughter of a Colonel could be of little use in such a case. I had
+not yet guessed what sort of person I had to do with, for they had
+brought him to the hospital as a bodily sick person, not mentally. I
+then asked him what illness he was suffering from.
+
+He answered that he knew nothing about it; that he had been sent among
+us for something or other; but that he was in good health, and that the
+Colonel’s daughter had fallen in love with him. Two weeks before she had
+passed in a carriage before the guard-house, where he was looking
+through the barred window, and she had gone head over ears in love at
+the mere sight of him.
+
+After that important moment she had come three times to the guard-house
+on different pretexts. The first time with her father, ostensibly to
+visit her brother, who was the officer on service; the second with her
+mother, to distribute alms to the prisoners. As she passed in front of
+him she had muttered that she loved him and would get him out of prison.
+
+He told me all this nonsense with minute and exact details; all of it
+pure figment of his poor disordered head. He believed devoutly and
+implicitly that his punishment would be graciously remitted. He spoke
+very calmly, and with all assurance of the passionate love he had
+inspired in this young lady.
+
+This odd and romantic delusion about the love of quite a young girl of
+good breeding, for a man nearly fifty years and afflicted with a face so
+disfigured and gloomy, simply showed the fearful effect produced by the
+fear of the punishment he was to have, upon the poor, timid creature.
+
+It may be that he had really seen some one through the bars of the
+window, and the insanity, germinating under excess of fear, had found
+shape and form in the delusion in question.
+
+This unfortunate soldier, who, it may be warranted, had never given a
+thought to young ladies, had got this romance into his diseased fancy,
+and clung convulsively to this wild hope. I heard him in silence, and
+then told the story to the other convicts. When these questioned him in
+their natural curiosity, he preserved a chastely discreet silence.
+
+Next day the doctor examined him. As the madman averred that he was not
+ill, he was put down on the list as qualified to be sent out. We learned
+that the physician had scribbled “_Sanat. est_” on the page, when it was
+quite too late to give him warning. Besides, we were ourselves not by
+any means sure what was really the matter with the man.
+
+The error was with the authorities who had sent him to us, without
+specifying for what reason it was thought necessary to have him come
+into the hospital--which was unpardonable negligence.
+
+However, two days later the unhappy creature was taken out to be
+scourged. We understood that he was dumbfounded by finding, contrary to
+his fixed expectation, that he really was to have the punishment. To the
+last moment he thought he would be pardoned, and when conducted to the
+front of the battalion, he began to cry for help.
+
+As there was no room or bedding-place now in our apartment they sent him
+to the infirmary. I heard that for eight entire days he did not utter a
+single word, and remained in stupid and misery-stricken mental
+confusion. When his back was cured they took him off. I never heard a
+single further word about him.
+
+As to the treatment of the sick and the remedies prescribed, those who
+were but slightly indisposed paid no attention whatever to the
+directions of the doctors, and never took their medicines; while,
+speaking generally, those really ill were very careful in following the
+doctor’s orders; they took their mixtures and powders; they took all the
+possible care they could of themselves; but they preferred external to
+internal remedies.
+
+Cupping-glasses, leeches, cataplasms, blood-lettings--in all which
+things the populace has so blind a confidence--were held in high honour
+in our hospital. Inflictions of that sort were regarded with
+satisfaction.
+
+There was one thing quite strange, and to me interesting. Fellows, who
+stood without a murmur the frightful tortures caused by the rods and
+scourges, howled, and grinned, and moaned for the least little ailment.
+Whether it was all pretence or not, I really cannot say.
+
+We had cuppings of a quite peculiar kind. The machine with which
+instantaneous incisions in the skin are produced, was all out of order,
+so they had to use the lancet.
+
+For a cupping, twelve incisions are necessary; with a machine these are
+not painful at all, for it makes them instantaneously; with the lancet
+it is a different affair altogether--that cuts slowly, and makes the
+patient suffer. If you have to make ten openings there will be about one
+hundred and twenty pricks, and these very painful. I had to undergo it
+myself; besides the pain itself, it caused great nervous irritation; but
+the suffering was not so great that one could not contain himself from
+groaning if he tried.
+
+It was laughable to see great, hulking fellows wriggling and howling.
+One couldn’t help comparing them to some men, firm and calm enough in
+really serious circumstances, but all ill-temper or caprice in the bosom
+of their families for nothing at all; if dinner is late or the like,
+then they’ll scold and swear; everything puts them out; they go wrong
+with everybody; the more comfortable they really are, the more
+troublesome are they to other people. Characters of this sort, common
+enough among the lower orders, were but too numerous in our prison, by
+reason of our company being forced on one another.
+
+Sometimes the prisoners chaffed or insulted the thin-skins I speak of,
+and then they would leave off complaining directly; as if they only
+wanted to be insulted to make them hold their tongues.
+
+Oustiantsef was no friend of grimacings of this kind, and never let slip
+an opportunity of bringing that sort of delinquent to his bearings.
+Besides, he was fond of scolding; it was a sort of necessity with him,
+engendered by illness and also his stupidity. He would first fix his
+gaze upon you for some time, and then treat you to a long speech of
+threatening and warning, and a tone of calm and impartial conviction. It
+looked as though he thought his function in this world was to watch over
+order and morality in general.
+
+“He must poke his nose into everything,” the prisoners with a laugh used
+to say; for they pitied, and did what they could to avoid conflicts with
+him.
+
+“Has he chattered enough? Three waggons wouldn’t be too much to carry
+away all his talk.”
+
+“Why need you put your oar in? One is not going to put himself about for
+a mere idiot. What’s there to cry out about at a mere touch of a
+lancet?”
+
+“What harm in the world do you fancy _that_ is going to do you?”
+
+“No, comrades,” a prisoner strikes in, “the cuppings are a mere nothing.
+I know the taste of them. But the most horrid thing is when they pull
+your ears for a long time together. That just shuts you up.”
+
+All the prisoners burst out laughing.
+
+“Have you had them pulled?”
+
+“By Jove, yes, I should think he had.”
+
+“That’s why they stick upright, like hop-poles.”
+
+This convict, Chapkin by name, really had long and quite erect ears. He
+had long led a vagabond life, was still quite young, intelligent, and
+quiet, and used to talk with a dry sort of humour with much seriousness
+on the surface, which made his stories very comical.
+
+“How in the world was I to know you had had your ears pulled and
+lengthened, brainless idiot?” began Oustiantsef, once more wrathfully
+addressing Chapkin, who, however, vouchsafed no attention to his
+companion’s obliging apostrophe.
+
+“Well, who did pull your ears for you?” some one asked.
+
+“Why, the police superintendent, by Jove, comrades! Our offence was
+wandering about without fixed place of abode. We had just got into
+K----, I and another tramp, Eptinie; he had no family name, that fellow.
+On the way we had fixed ourselves up a little in the hamlet of Tolmina;
+yes, there is a hamlet that’s got just that name--Tolmina. Well, we get
+to the town, and are just looking about us a little to see if there’s a
+good stroke of tramp-business to do, after which we mean to flit. You
+know, out in the open country you’re as free as air; but it’s not
+exactly the same thing in the town. First thing, we go into a
+public-house; as we open the door we give a sharp look all round. What’s
+there? A sunburnt fellow in a German coat all out at elbows, walks right
+up to us. One thing and another comes up, when he says to us:
+
+“‘Pray excuse me for asking if you have any papers [passport] with you?’
+
+“‘No, we haven’t.’
+
+“‘Nor have we either. I have two comrades besides these with me who are
+in the service of General Cuckoo [forest tramps, _i.e._, who hear the
+birds sing]. We have been seeing life a bit, and just now haven’t a
+penny to bless ourselves with. May I take the liberty of requesting you
+to be so obliging as to order a quart of brandy?’
+
+“‘With the greatest pleasure,’ that’s what we say to him. So we drink
+together. Then they tell us of a place where there’s a real good stroke
+of business to be done--a house at the end of the town belonging to a
+wealthy merchant fellow; lots of good things there, so we make up our
+minds to try the job during the night; five of us, and the very moment
+we are going at it they pounce on us, take us to the station-house, and
+then before the head of the police. He says, ‘I shall examine them
+myself.’ Out he goes with his pipe, and they bring in for him a cup of
+tea; a sturdy fellow it was, with whiskers. Besides us five, there were
+three other tramps, just brought in. You know, comrades, that there’s
+nothing in this world more funny than a tramp, because he always forgets
+everything he’s done. You may thump his head till you’re tired with a
+cudgel; all the same, you’ll get but one answer, that he has forgotten
+all about everything.
+
+“The police superintendent then turns to me and asks me squarely,
+
+“‘Who may you be?’
+
+“I answer just like all the rest of them:
+
+“‘I’ve forgotten all about it, your worship.’
+
+“‘Just you wait; I’ve a word or two more to say to you. I know your
+phiz.’
+
+“Then he gives me a good long stare. But I hadn’t seen him anywhere
+before, that’s a fact.
+
+“Then he asks another of them, ‘Who are you?’
+
+“‘Mizzle-and-scud, your worship.’
+
+“‘They call you Mizzle-and-scud?’
+
+“‘Precisely that, your worship.’
+
+“‘Well and good, you’re Mizzle-and-scud! And you?’ to a third.
+
+“‘Along-of-him, your worship.’
+
+“‘But what’s your name--your name?’
+
+“‘Me? I’m called Along-of-him, your worship.’
+
+“‘Who gave you that name, hound?’
+
+“‘Very worthy people, your worship. There are lots of worthy people
+about; nobody knows that better than your worship.’
+
+“‘And who may these “worthy people” be?’
+
+“‘Oh, Lord, it has slipped my memory, your worship. Do be so kind and
+gracious as to overlook it.’
+
+“‘So you’ve forgotten them, all of them, these “worthy people”?’
+
+“‘Every mother’s son of them, your worship.’
+
+“‘But you must have had relations--a father, a mother. Do you remember
+them?’
+
+“‘I suppose I must have had, your worship; but I’ve forgotten about ’em,
+my memory is so bad. Now I come to think about it, I’m sure I had some,
+your worship.’
+
+“‘But where have you been living till now?’
+
+“‘In the woods, your worship.’
+
+“‘Always in the woods?’
+
+“‘Always in the woods!’
+
+“‘Winter too?’
+
+“‘Never saw any winter, your worship.’
+
+“‘Get along with you! And you--what’s your name?’
+
+“‘Hatchets-and-axes, your worship.’
+
+“‘And yours?’
+
+“‘Sharp-and-mum, your worship.’
+
+“‘And you?’
+
+“‘Keen-and-spry, your worship.’
+
+“‘And not a soul of you remembers anything that ever happened to you.’
+
+“‘Not a mother’s son of us anything whatever.’
+
+“He couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud. All the rest began to laugh
+at seeing him laugh! But the thing does not always go off like that.
+Sometimes they lay about them, these police, with their fists, till you
+get every tooth in your jaw smashed. Devilish big and strong these
+fellows, I can tell you.
+
+“‘Take them off to the lock-up,’ said he. ‘I’ll see to them in a bit. As
+for you, stop here!’
+
+“That’s me.
+
+“‘Just you go and sit down there.’
+
+“Where he pointed to there was paper, a pen, and ink; so thinks I,
+‘What’s he up to now?’
+
+“‘Sit down,’ he says again; ‘take the pen and write.’
+
+“And then he goes and clutches at my ear and gives it a good pull. I
+looked at him in the sort of way the devil may look at a priest.
+
+“‘I can’t write, your worship.’
+
+“‘Write, write!’
+
+“‘Have mercy on me, your worship!’
+
+“‘Write your best; write, write!’
+
+“And all the while he keeps pulling my ear, pulling and twisting. Pals,
+I’d rather have had three hundred strokes of the cat; I tell you it was
+hell.
+
+“‘Write, write!’ that was all he said.”
+
+“Had the fellow gone mad? What the mischief was it?
+
+“Bless us, no! A little while before, a secretary had done a stroke of
+business at Tobolsk: he had robbed the local treasury and gone off with
+the money; he had very big ears, just as I have. They had sent the fact
+all over the country. I answered to that description; that’s why he
+tormented me with his ‘Write, write!’ He wanted to find out if I could
+write, and to see my hand.
+
+“‘A regular sharp chap that! Did it hurt?’
+
+“‘Oh, Lord, don’t say a word about it, I beg.’
+
+“Everybody burst out laughing.
+
+“‘Well, you did write?’
+
+“‘What the deuce was there to write? I set my pen going over the paper,
+and did it to such good account that he left off torturing me. He just
+gave me a dozen thumps, regulation allowance, and then let me go about
+my business: to prison, that is.’
+
+“‘Do you really know how to write?’
+
+“‘Of course I did. What d’ye mean? Used to very well; forgotten the
+whole blessed thing, though, ever since they began to use pens for it.’”
+
+Thanks to the gossip talk of the convicts who filled the hospital, time
+was somewhat quickened for us. But still, Almighty God, how wearied and
+bored we were! Long, long were the days, suffocating in their monotony,
+one absolutely the same as another. If only I had had a single book.
+
+For all that I went often to the infirmary, especially in the early days
+of my banishment, either because I was ill or because I needed rest,
+just to get out of the worse parts of the prison. In those life was
+indeed made a burden to us, worse even than in the hospital, especially
+as regards the effect upon moral sentiment and good feeling. We of the
+nobility were the never-ceasing objects of envious dislike, quarrels
+picked with us all the time, something done every moment to put us in
+the wrong, looks filled with menacing hatred unceasingly directed on us!
+Here, in the sick-rooms, one lived on a sort of footing of equality,
+there was something of comradeship.
+
+The most melancholy moment of the twenty-four hours was evening, when
+night set in. We went to bed very early. A smoky lamp just gave us one
+point of light at the very end of the room, near the door. In our corner
+we were almost in complete darkness. The air was pestilential, stifling.
+Some of the sick people could not get to sleep, would rise up, and
+remain sitting for an hour together on their beds, with their heads
+bent, as though they were in deep reflection. These I would look at
+steadily, trying to guess what they might be thinking of; thus I tried
+to kill time. Then I became lost in my own reveries; the past came up to
+me again, showing itself to my imagination in large powerful outlines
+filled with high lights and massive shadows, details that at any other
+time would have remained in oblivion, presented themselves in vivid
+force, making on me an impression impossible under any other
+circumstances.
+
+Then I would begin to muse dreamily on the future. When shall I leave
+this place of restraint, this dreadful prison? Whither betake myself?
+What will then befall me? Shall I return to the place of my birth? So I
+brood, and brood, until hope lives once again in my soul.
+
+Another time I would begin to count, one, two, three, etc., to see if
+sleep could be won that way. I would set sometimes as far as three
+thousand, and was as wakeful as ever. Then somebody would turn in his
+bed.
+
+Then there’s Oustiantsef coughing, that cough of the hopelessly-gone
+consumptive, and then he would groan feebly, and stammer, “My God, I’ve
+sinned, I’ve sinned!”
+
+How frightful it was, that voice of the sick man, that broken, dying
+voice, in the midst of that silence so dead and complete! In a corner
+there are some sick people not yet asleep, talking in a low voice,
+stretched on their pallets. One of them is telling the story of his
+life, all about things infinitely far off; things that have fled for
+ever; he is talking of his trampings through the world, of his children,
+his wife, the old ways of his life. And the very accent of the man’s
+voice tells you that all those things are for ever over for him, that he
+is as a limb cut off from the world of men, cut off, thrown aside; there
+is another, listening intently to what he is saying. A weak, feeble sort
+of muttering and murmuring comes to one’s ear from far-off in the dreary
+room, a sound as of far-off water flowing somewhere.... I remember that
+one time, during a winter night that seemed as if it would never end, I
+heard a story which at first seemed as if it were the stammerings of a
+creature in nightmare, or the delirium of fever. Here it is:
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[4] What I relate about corporal punishment took place during my time.
+Now, as I am told, everything is changed, and is changing still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA
+
+
+It was late at night, about eleven o’clock. I had been sleeping some
+time and woke up with a start. The wan and weak light of the distant
+lamp barely lit the room. Nearly everybody was fast asleep, even
+Oustiantsef; in the quiet of the night I heard his difficult breathing,
+and the rattlings in his throat with every respiration. In the
+ante-chamber sounded the heavy and distant footsteps of the patrol as
+the men came up. The butt of a gun struck the floor with its low and
+heavy sound.
+
+The door of the room was opened, and the corporal counted the sick,
+stepping softly about the place. After a minute or so he closed the door
+again, leaving a fresh sentinel there; the patrol went off, silence
+reigned again. It was only then that I observed two prisoners, not far
+from me, who were not sleeping, and who seemed to be holding a muttered
+conversation. Sometimes, in fact, it would happen that a couple of sick
+people, whose beds adjoined and who had not exchanged a word for weeks,
+would all of a sudden break out into conversation with one another, in
+the middle of the night, and one of them would tell the other his
+history.
+
+Probably they had been speaking for some considerable time. I did not
+hear the beginning of it, and could not at first seize upon their words,
+but little by little I got familiar with the muttered sounds, and
+understood all that was going on. I had not the least desire for sleep
+on me, so what could I do but listen.
+
+One of them was telling his story with some warmth, half-lying on his
+bed, with his head lifted and stretched towards his companion. He was
+plainly excited to no little degree; the necessity of speech was on him.
+
+The man listening was sitting up on his pallet, with a gloomy and
+indifferent air, his legs stretched out flat on the mattress, and now
+and again murmured some words in reply, more out of politeness than
+interest, and kept stuffing his nose with snuff from a horn box. This
+was the soldier Techérévin, one of the company of discipline; a morose,
+cold-reasoning pedant, an idiot full of _amour propre_; while the
+narrator was Chichkof, about thirty years old; this was a civilian
+convict, whom up to that time I had not at all observed; and during the
+whole time I was at the prison I never could get up the smallest
+interest in him, for he was a conceited, heady fellow.
+
+Sometimes he would hold his tongue for weeks together, and look sulky
+and brutal enough for anything; then all of a sudden he would strike
+into anything that was going on, behave insufferably, go into a white
+heat about nothing at all, and tell you long stories with nothing in
+them whatever about one barrack or another, blowing abuse on all the
+world, and acting like a man beside himself. Then some one would give
+him a hiding, and he would have another fit of silence. He was a mean
+and cowardly fellow, and the object of general contempt. His stature
+was low, he had little flesh on him, he had wandering eyes, though they
+sometimes got mixed and seemed filled with a stupid sort of thinking.
+When he told you anything he worked himself into a fever, gesticulated
+wildly, suddenly broke off and went to another subject, lost himself in
+fresh details, and at last forgot altogether what he was talking about.
+He often got into squabbles, this Chichkof, and when he poured insult on
+his adversary, he spoke with a sentimental whine and was affected nearly
+to tears. He was not a bad hand at playing the _balalaika_, and had a
+weakness for it; on fête days he would show you his dancing powers when
+others set him at it, and he danced by no means badly. You could easily
+enough make him do what you wanted ... not that he was of a complying
+turn, but he liked to please and to get intimate with fellows.
+
+For some considerable time I couldn’t understand the story Chichkoff was
+telling; that night I mean. It seemed to me as though he were constantly
+rambling from the point to talk of something else. Perhaps he had
+observed that Tchérévine was paying little attention to the narrative,
+but I fancy that he was minded to overlook this indifference, so as not
+to take offence.
+
+“When he went out on business,” he continued, “every one saluted him
+politely, paid him every respect ... a fellow with money that.”
+
+“You say that he was in some trade or other.”
+
+“Yes; trade indeed! The trading class in my country is wretchedly
+ill-off; just poverty-stricken. The women go to the river and fetch
+water from ever such a distance to water their gardens. They wear
+themselves to the very bone, and, for all that, when winter comes, they
+haven’t got enough to make a mere cabbage soup. I tell you it’s
+starvation. But that fellow had a good lump of land, which his labourers
+cultivated; he had three. Then he had hives, and sold his honey; he was
+a cattle-dealer too; a much respected man in our parts. He was very old
+and quite gray, his seventy years lay heavy on his old bones. When he
+came to the market-place with his fox-skin pelisse, everybody saluted
+him.
+
+“‘Good-day, daddy Aukoudim Trophimtych!’
+
+“‘Good-day,’ he’d return.
+
+“‘How are you getting along;’ he never looked down on any one.
+
+“‘God keep you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!’
+
+“‘How goes business with you?’
+
+“‘Business is as good as tallow’s white with me; and how’s yours,
+daddy?’
+
+“‘We’ve just got enough of a livelihood to pay the price of sin; always
+sweating over our bit of land.’
+
+“‘Lord preserve you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!’
+
+“He never looked down on anybody. All his advice was always worth
+having; every one of his words was worth a rouble. A great reader he
+was, quite a man of learning; but he stuck to religious books. He would
+call his old wife and say to her, ‘Listen, woman, take well in what I
+say;’ then he would explain things. His old Marie Stépanovna was not
+exactly an old woman, if you please; it was his second wife; he had
+married her to have children, his first wife had not brought him any. He
+had two boys still quite young, for the second of them was born when his
+father was close on sixty; Akoulka, his daughter, was eighteen years
+old, she was the eldest.”
+
+“Your wife? Isn’t it so?”
+
+“Wait a bit, wait. Then Philka Marosof begins to kick up a row. Says he
+to Aukoudim: ‘Let’s split the difference. Give me back my four hundred
+roubles. I’m not your beast of burden; I don’t want to do any more
+business with you, and I don’t want to marry your Akoulka. I want to
+have my fling now that my parents are dead. I’ll liquor away my money,
+then I’ll engage myself, ’list for a soldier; and in ten years I’ll come
+back here a field-marshal!’ Aukoudim gave him back his money--all he
+had of his. You see he and Philka’s father had both put in money and
+done business together.
+
+“‘You’re a lost man,’ that’s what he said to Philka.
+
+“‘Whether I’m a lost man or not, old gray-beard, you’re the biggest
+cheat I know. You’d try to screw a fortune out of four farthings, and
+pick up all the dirt about to do it with. I spit upon it. There you are
+piling up here, digging deep there, the devil only knows why. I’ve got a
+will of my own, I tell you. All the same I won’t take your Akoulka; I’ve
+slept with her already.’
+
+“‘How dare you insult a respectable father--a respectable girl? When did
+you sleep with her, you spawn of the sucker, you dog, you hound,
+you----?’ said Aukoudim shaking with passion. (Philka told us all this
+later).
+
+“‘I’ll not only not marry your daughter, but I’ll take good care that
+nobody marries her, not even Mikita Grigoritch, for she’s a disreputable
+girl. We had a fine time together, she and I, all last autumn. I don’t
+want her at any price. All the money in the world wouldn’t make me take
+her.’
+
+“Then the fellow went and had high jinks for a while. All the town was
+as one man in sending up a cry against him. He got a lot of other
+fellows round him, for he had a heap of money. Three months he had of
+it. Such recklessness as you never heard of. Every penny went.
+
+“‘I want to see the end of this money. I’ll sell the house; everything;
+then I’ll ’list or go on the tramp.’
+
+“He was drunk from morning to evening, and went about with a carriage
+and pair.
+
+“The girls liked him well, I tell you, for he played the guitar very
+nicely.”
+
+“Then it is true that he had been too well with this Akoulka?”
+
+“Wait, wait, can’t you? I had just buried my father. My mother lived by
+baking gingerbread. We got our livelihood by working for Aukoudim;
+barely enough to eat, a precious hard life it was. We had a bit of land
+the other side of the woods, and grew corn there; but when my father
+died I went on a spree. I made my mother give me money; but I had to
+give her a good hiding first.”
+
+“You were very wrong to beat her; a great sin that?”
+
+“Sometimes I was drunk the whole blessed day. We had a house that was
+just tumbling to pieces with dry rot, still it was our own; we were as
+near famished as could be; for weeks together we had nothing but rags to
+chew. Mother nearly killed me with one stupid trick or another, but I
+didn’t care a curse. Philka Marosof and I were always together day and
+night. ‘Play the guitar to me,’ he’d say, ‘and I’ll lie in bed the
+while. I’ll throw money to you, for I’m the richest chap in the world!’
+The fellow could not speak without lying. There was only one thing. He
+wouldn’t touch a thing if it had been stolen. ‘I’m no thief, I’m an
+honest man. Let’s go and daub Akoulka’s door with pitch,[5] for I won’t
+have her marry Mikita Grigoritch, I’ll stick to that.’
+
+“The old man had long meant to give his daughter to this Mikita
+Grigoritch. He was a man well on in life, in trade too, and wore
+spectacles. When he heard the story of Akoulka’s bad conduct, he said to
+the old father, ‘That would be a terrible disgrace for me, Aukoudim
+Trophimtych; on the whole, I’ve made up my mind not to marry; it’s to
+late.’
+
+“So we went and daubed Akoulka’s door all over with pitch. When we’d
+done that her folks beat her so that they nearly killed her.
+
+“Her mother, Marie Stépanovna, cried, ‘I shall die of it,’ while the old
+man said, ‘If we were in the days of the patriarchs, I’d have hacked
+her to pieces on a block. But now everything is rottenness and
+corruption in this world.’ Sometimes the neighbours from one end of the
+street to the other heard Akoulka’s screams. She was whipped from
+morning to evening, and Philka would cry out in the market-place before
+everybody:
+
+“Akoulka’s a jolly girl to get drunk with. I’ve given it those people
+between the eyes, they won’t forget me in a hurry.’
+
+“Well, one day, I met Akoulka, she was going for water with her bucket,
+so I cried out to her: ‘A fine morning, pet Akoulka Koudimovna! you’re
+the girl who knows how to please fellows. Who’s living with you now, and
+where do you get your money for your finery?’ That’s just what I said to
+her; she opened her eyes as wide as you please. No more flesh on her
+than on a log of wood. She had only just given me a look, but her mother
+thought she was larking with me, and cried from her door-step, ‘Impudent
+hussy, what do you mean by talking with that fellow?’ And from that
+moment they began to beat her again. Sometimes they hided her for an
+hour together. The mother said, ‘I give her the whip because she isn’t
+my daughter any more.’”
+
+“She was then as bad as they said?”
+
+“Now you just listen to my story, nunky, will you? Well, we used to get
+drunk all the time with Philka. One day when I was abed, mother comes
+and says:
+
+“‘What d’ye mean by lying in bed, you hound, you thief!’ She abused me
+for some time, then she said, ‘Marry Akoulka. They’ll be glad to give
+her to you, and they’ll give three hundred roubles with her.’
+
+“‘But,’ says I, ‘all the world knows that she’s a bad girl----’
+
+“‘Hist, the marriage ceremony cures all that; besides, she’ll always be
+in fear of her life from you, so you’ll be in clover together. Their
+money would make us comfortable; I’ve spoken about the marriage already
+to Marie Stépanovna, we’re of one mind about it.’
+
+“So I say, ‘Let’s have twenty roubles down on the spot, and I’ll have
+her.’
+
+“Well, you needn’t believe it unless you please, but I was drunk right
+up to the wedding-day. Then Philka Marosof kept threatening me all the
+time.
+
+“‘I’ll break every bone in your body, a nice fellow you to be engaged,
+and to Akoulka; if I like I’ll sleep every blessed night with her when
+she’s your wife.’
+
+“‘You’re a hound, and a liar,’ that’s what I said to him. But he
+insulted me so in the street, before everybody, that I ran to Aukoudim’s
+and said, ‘I won’t marry her unless I have fifty roubles down this
+moment.’”
+
+“And they really did give her to you in marriage?”
+
+“Me? Why not, I should like to know? We were respectable people enough.
+Father had been ruined by a fire a little before he died; he had been a
+richer man than Aukoudim Trophimtych.
+
+“‘A fellow without a shirt to his back like you ought to be only too
+happy to marry my daughter;’ that’s what old Aukoudim said.
+
+“‘Just you think of your door, and the pitch that went on it,’ I said to
+him.
+
+“‘Stuff and nonsense,’ said he, ‘there’s no proof whatever that the
+girl’s gone wrong.’
+
+“‘Please yourself. There’s the door, and you can go about your business;
+but give back the money you’ve had!’
+
+“Then Philka Marosof and I settled it together to send Mitri Bykoff to
+Father Aukoudim to tell him that we’d insult him to his face before
+everybody. Well, I had my skin as full as it could hold right up to the
+wedding-day. I wasn’t sober till I got into the church. When they took
+us home after church the girl’s uncle, Mitrophone Stépanytch, said:
+
+“‘This isn’t a nice business; but it’s over and done now.’
+
+“Old Aukoudim was sitting there crying, the tears rolled down on his
+gray beard. Comrade, I’ll tell you what I had done: I had put a whip
+into my pocket before we went to church, and I’d made up my mind to have
+it out of her with that, so that all the world might know how I’d been
+swindled into the marriage, and not think me a bigger fool than I am.”
+
+“I see, and you wanted her to know what was in store for her. Ah,
+was----?”
+
+“Quiet, nunky, quiet! Among our people I’ll tell you how it is; directly
+after the marriage ceremony they take the couple to a room apart, and
+the others remain drinking till they return. So I’m left alone with
+Akoulka; she was pale, not a bit of colour on her cheeks; frightened out
+of her wits. She had fine hair, supple and bright as flax, and great big
+eyes. She scarcely ever was known to speak; you might have thought she
+was dumb; an odd creature, Akoulka, if ever there was one. Well, you can
+just imagine the scene. My whip was ready on the bed. Well, she was as
+pure a girl as ever was, not a word of it all was true.”
+
+“Impossible!”
+
+“True, I swear; as good a girl as any good family might wish.”
+
+“Then, brother, why--why--why had she had to undergo all that torture?
+Why had Philka Marosof slandered her so?”
+
+“Yes, why, indeed?”
+
+“Well, I got down from the bed, and went on my knees before her, and put
+my hands together as if I were praying, and just said to her, ‘Little
+mother, pet, Akoulka Koudimovna, forgive me for having been such an
+idiot as to believe all that slander; forgive me. I’m a hound!’
+
+“She was seated on the bed, and gazed at me fixedly. She put her two
+hands on my shoulders and began to laugh; but the tears were running
+all down her cheeks. She sobbed and laughed all at once.
+
+“Then I went out and said to the people in the other room, ‘Let Philka
+Marosof look to himself. If I come across him he won’t be long for this
+world.’
+
+“The old people were beside themselves with delight. Akoulka’s mother
+was ready to throw herself at her daughter’s feet, and sobbed.
+
+“Then the old man said, ‘If we had known really how it was, my dearest
+child, we wouldn’t have given you a husband of that sort.’
+
+“You ought to have seen how we were dressed the first Sunday after our
+marriage--when we left church! I’d got a long coat of fine cloth, a fur
+cap, with plush breeches. She had a pelisse of hareskin, quite new, and
+a silk kerchief on her head. One was as fine as the other. Everybody
+admired us. I must say I looked well, and pet Akoulka did too. One
+oughtn’t to boast, but one oughtn’t to sing small. I tell you people
+like us are not turned out by the dozen.”
+
+“Not a doubt about it.”
+
+“Just you listen, I tell you. The day after my marriage I ran off from
+my guests, drunk as I was, and went about the streets crying, ‘Where’s
+that scoundrel of a Philka Marosof? Just let him come near me, the
+hound, that’s all!’ I went all over the market-place yelling that out. I
+was as drunk as a man could be, and stand.
+
+“They went after me and caught me close to Vlassof’s place. It took
+three men to get me back again to the house.
+
+“Well, nothing else was spoken about all over the village. The girls
+said, when they met in the market-place, ‘Well, you’ve heard the
+news--Akoulka was all right!’
+
+“A little while after I do come across Philka Marosof, who said to me
+before everybody, strangers to the place, too, ‘Sell your wife, and
+spend the money on drink. Jackka the soldier only married for that; he
+didn’t sleep one night with his wife; but he got enough to keep his skin
+full for three years.’
+
+“I answered him, ‘Hound!’
+
+“‘But,’ says he, ‘you’re an idiot! You didn’t know what you were about
+when you married--you were drunk. How could you tell all about it?’
+
+“So off I went to the house, and cried out to them ‘You married me when
+I was drunk.’
+
+“Akoulka’s mother tried to fasten herself on me; but I cried, ‘Mother,
+you don’t know about anything but money. You bring me Akoulka!’
+
+“And didn’t I beat her! I tell you I beat her for two hours running,
+till I rolled on the floor myself with fatigue. She couldn’t leave her
+bed for three weeks.”
+
+“It’s a dead sure thing,” said Tchérévine phlegmatically; “if you don’t
+beat them they---- Did you find her with her lover?”
+
+“No; to tell the truth, I never actually caught her,” said Chichkoff
+after a pause, speaking with effort; “but I was hurt, a good deal hurt,
+for every one made fun of me. The cause of it all was Philka. ‘Your wife
+is just made for everybody to look at,’ said he.
+
+“One day he invited us to see him, and then he went at it. ‘Do just look
+what a good little wife he has! Isn’t she tender, fine, nicely brought
+up, affectionate, full of kindness for all the world? I say, my lad,
+have you forgotten how we daubed their door with pitch?’ I was full at
+that moment, drunk as may be; then he seized me by the hair and had me
+down upon the ground before I knew where I was. ‘Come along--dance;
+aren’t you Akoulka’s husband? I’ll hold your hair for you, and you shall
+dance; it will be good fun.’ ‘Dog!’ said I to him. ‘I’ll bring some
+jolly fellows to your house,’ said he, ‘and I’ll whip your Akoulka
+before your very eyes just as long as I please.’ Would you believe it?
+For a whole month I daren’t go out of the house, I was so afraid he’d
+come to us and drag my wife through the dirt. And how I did beat her for
+it!”
+
+“What was the use of beating her? You can tie a woman’s hands, but not
+her tongue. You oughtn’t to give them a hiding too often. Beat ’em a
+bit, then scold ’em well, then fondle ’em; that’s what a woman is made
+for.”
+
+Chichkoff remained quite silent for a few moments.
+
+“I was very much hurt,” he went on; “I began it again just as before. I
+beat her from morning till night for nothing; because she didn’t get up
+from her seat the way I liked; because she didn’t walk to suit me. When
+I wasn’t hiding her, time hung heavy on my hands. Sometimes she sat by
+the window crying silently--it hurt my feelings sometimes to see her
+cry, but I beat her all the same. Sometimes her mother abused me for it:
+‘You’re a scoundrel, a gallows-bird!’ ‘Don’t say a word or I’ll kill
+you; you made me marry her when I was drunk, you swindled me.’ Old
+Aukoudim wanted at first to have his finger in the pie. Said he to me
+one day: ‘Look here, you’re not such a tremendous fellow that one can’t
+put you down;’ but he didn’t get far on that track. Marie Stépanovna had
+become as sweet as milk. One day she came to me crying her eyes out and
+said: ‘My heart is almost broken, Ivan Semionytch; what I’m going to ask
+of you is a little thing for you, but it is a good deal to me; let her
+go, let her leave you, daddy Ivan.’ Then she throws herself at my feet.
+‘Do give up being so angry! Wicked people slander her; you know quite
+well she was good when you married her.’ Then she threw herself at my
+feet again and cried. But I was as hard as nails. ‘I won’t hear a word
+you have to say; what I choose to do, I do, to you or anybody, for I’m
+crazed with it all. As to Philka Marosof, he’s my best and dearest
+friend.’”
+
+“You’d begun to play your pranks together again, you and he?”
+
+“No, by Jove! He was out of the way by this time; he was killing himself
+with drink, nothing less. He had spent all he had on drink, and had
+’listed for a soldier, as substitute for a citizen body in the town. In
+our parts, when a lad makes up his mind to be substitute for another, he
+is master of that house and everybody there till he’s called to the
+ranks. He gets the sum agreed on the day he goes off, but up to then he
+lives in the house of the man who buys him, sometimes six whole months,
+and there isn’t a horror in the whole world those fellows are not guilty
+of. It’s enough to make folks take the holy images out of the house.
+From the moment he consents to be substitute for the son of the family
+then he considers himself their patron and benefactor, and makes them
+dance as he pipes, or else he goes off the bargain.
+
+“So Philka Marosof played the very mischief at the home of this
+townsman. He slept with the daughter, pulled the master of the house by
+the beard after dinner, did anything that came into his head. They had
+to heat the bath for him every day, and, what’s more, give him brandy
+fumes with the steam of the bath: and he would have the women lead him
+by the arms to the bath room.[6]
+
+“When he came back to the man’s house after a revel elsewhere, he would
+stop right in the middle of the road and cry out:
+
+“‘I won’t go in by the door; pull down the fence!’
+
+“And they actually _had_ to pull down the fence, though there was the
+door right at it to let him in. That all came to an end though, the day
+they took him to the regiment. That day he was sobered sufficiently. The
+crowd gathered all through the street.
+
+“‘They’re taking off Philka Marosof!’
+
+“He made a salute on all sides, right and left. Just at that moment
+Akoulka was returning from the kitchen-garden. Directly Philka saw her
+he cried out to her:
+
+“‘Stop!’ and down he jumped from the cart and threw himself down at her
+feet.
+
+“‘My soul, my sweet little strawberry, I’ve loved you two years long.
+Now they’re taking me off to the regiment with the band playing. Forgive
+me, good honest girl of a good honest father, for I’m nothing but a
+hound, and all you’ve gone through is my fault.’
+
+“Then he flings himself down before her a second time. At first Akoulka
+was exceedingly frightened; but she made him a great bow, which nearly
+bent her double.
+
+“‘Forgive me, too, my good lad; but I am really not at all angry with
+you.’
+
+“As she went into the house I was at her heels.
+
+“‘What did you say to him, you she-devil, you?’
+
+“Now you may believe it or not as you like, but she looked at me as bold
+as you please, and answered:
+
+“‘I love him better than anything or anybody in this world.’
+
+“‘I say!’
+
+“That day I didn’t utter one single word. Only towards evening I said to
+her: ‘Akoulka, I’m going to kill you now.’ I didn’t close an eye the
+whole night. I went into the little room leading to ours and drank
+kwass. At daybreak I went into the house again. ‘Akoulka, get ready and
+come into the fields.’ I had arranged to go there before; my wife knew
+it.
+
+“‘You are right,’ said she. ‘It’s quite time to begin reaping. I’ve
+heard that our labourer is ill and doesn’t work a bit.’
+
+“I put to the cart without saying a word. As you go out of the town
+there’s a forest fifteen versts in length. At the end of it is our
+field. When we had gone about three versts through the wood I stopped
+the horse.
+
+“‘Come, get up, Akoulka; your end is come.’
+
+“She looked at me all in a fright, and got up without a word.
+
+“‘You’ve tormented me enough. Say your prayers.’
+
+“I seized her by the hair--she had long, thick tresses--I rolled them
+round my arm. I held her between my knees; took out my knife; threw her
+head back, and cut her throat. She screamed; the blood spurted out. Then
+I threw away my knife. I pressed her with all my might in my arms. I put
+her on the ground and embraced her, yelling with all my might. She
+screamed; I yelled; she struggled and struggled. The blood--her
+blood--splashed my face, my hands. It was stronger than I was--stronger.
+Then I took fright. I left her--left my horse and began to run; ran back
+to the house.
+
+“I went in the back way, and hid myself in the old ramshackle
+bath-house, which we never used now. I lay myself down under the seat,
+and remained hid till the dead of the night.”
+
+“And Akoulka?”
+
+“She got up to come back to the house; they found her later, a hundred
+steps from the place.”
+
+“So you hadn’t finished her?”
+
+“No.” Chichkoff stopped a while.
+
+“Yes,” said Tchérévine, “there’s a vein; if you don’t cut it at the
+first the man will go on struggling; the blood may flow fast enough, but
+he won’t die.”
+
+“But she was dead all the same. They found her in the evening, and she
+was cold. They told the police, and hunted me up. They found me in the
+night in the old bath.
+
+“And there you have it. I’ve been four years here already,” added he,
+after a pause.
+
+“Yes, if you don’t beat ’em you make no way at all,” said Tchérévine
+sententiously, taking out his snuff-box once more. He took his pinches
+very slowly, with long pauses. “For all that, my lad, you behaved like a
+fool. Why, I myself--I came upon my wife with a lover. I made her come
+into the shed, and then I doubled up a halter and said to her:
+
+“‘To whom did you swear to be faithful?--to whom did you swear it in
+church? Tell me that?’
+
+“And then I gave it her with my halter--beat her and beat her for an
+hour and a half; till at last she was quite spent, and cried out:
+
+“‘I’ll wash your feet and drink the water afterwards.’
+
+“Her name was Crodotia.”
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[5] Daubing the door of a house, where a young girl lives, is done to
+show that she is dishonoured.
+
+[6] A mark of respect paid in Russia formerly, now disused.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE SUMMER SEASON
+
+
+April is come; Holy Week is not far off. We set about our summer tasks.
+The sun becomes hotter and more brilliant every day; the atmosphere has
+the spring in it, and acts upon our nervous system powerfully. The
+convict, in his chains, feels the trembling influence of the lovely days
+like any other creature; they rouse desires in him, inexpressible
+longings for his home, and many other things. I think that he misses his
+liberty, yearns for freedom more when the day is filled with sunlight
+than during the rainy and melancholy days of autumn and winter. You may
+observe this positively among convicts; if they _do_ feel a little joy
+on a beautiful clear day, they have a reaction into greater impatience
+and irritability.
+
+I noticed that in spring there was much more squabbling in our prison;
+there was more noise, the yelling was greater, there were more fights;
+during the working hours we would see a man sometimes fixed in a
+meditative gaze, which seemed lost in the blue distance somewhere, the
+other side of the Irtych, where stretched the boundless plain, with its
+flight of hundreds of versts, the free Kirghiz Steppe. Long-drawn sighs
+came to one’s ear, sighs breathed from the depths of the chest; it might
+seem that the air of those wide and free regions, haunted by their
+thought, forced the convicts to draw deep respirations, and was a sort
+of solace to their crushed and fettered souls.
+
+“Ah!” cries at last the poor prisoner all at once, with a long, sighing
+cry; then he seizes his pick furiously, or picks up the bricks, which he
+has to carry from one place to another. But after a brief minute he
+seems to forget the passing impression, and begins laughing, or
+insulting people near, so fitful is his humour; then he attacks the work
+he has to do with unusual fire, labours with might and main, as if
+trying to stifle by fatigue the grief that has him by the throat. You
+see they are fellows of unimpaired vigour, all in the very flower of
+life, with all their physical and other strength about them.
+
+How heavy the irons are during this season! All this is not
+sentimentality, it is the report of rigorous observation. During the hot
+season, under a fiery sun, when all one’s being, all one’s soul, is
+vividly conscious of, and intimately feels, the unspeakably strong
+resurrection of nature going on everywhere, it is more difficult to
+support the confinement, the perpetual surveillance, the tyranny of a
+will other than one’s own.
+
+Besides this, it is in spring with the first song of the lark that
+throughout all Siberia and Russia men set out on the tramp; God’s
+creatures, if they can, break their prison and escape into the woods.
+After the stifling ditch where they work, after the boats, the irons,
+the rods and whips, they go vagabondizing where they please, wherever
+they can make it out best; they eat and drink what they can get, ’tis
+all the time pot-luck with them; and by night they sleep undisturbed in
+the woods or in a field, without a care, without the agony of knowing
+themselves in prison, as if they were God’s own birds; their
+“good-night” is said to the stars, and the eye that watches them is the
+eye of God. Not altogether a rosy life, by any means; sometimes hunger
+and fatigue are heavy on them “in the service of General Cuckoo.” Often
+enough the wanderers have not a morsel of bread to keep their teeth
+going for days and days. They have to hide from everybody, run to earth
+like marmots; sometimes they are driven to robbery, pillage--nay, even
+murder.
+
+“Send a man there and he becomes a child, and just throws himself on all
+he sees”; that is what people say of those transported to Siberia. This
+saying may be applied even more fitly to the tramps. They are almost all
+brigands and thieves, by necessity rather than inclination. Many of them
+are hardened to the life, irreclaimable; there are convicts who go off
+after having served their time, even after they have been put on some
+land as their own. They ought to be happy in their new state, with their
+daily bread assured them. Well, it is not so; an irresistible impulse
+sends them wandering off.
+
+This life in the woods, wretched and fearful as it is, but still free
+and adventurous, has a mysterious seduction for those who have
+experienced it; among these fugitives you may find to your surprise,
+people of good habit of mind, peaceable temper, who had shown every
+promise of becoming settled creatures--good tillers of the land. A
+convict will marry, have children, live for five years in the same
+place, then all of a sudden he will disappear one fine morning,
+abandoning wife and children, to the stupefaction of his family and the
+whole neighbourhood.
+
+One day, I was shown at the convict establishment one of these deserters
+of the family hearthstone. He had committed no crime--at least, he was
+under suspicion of none--but all through his life he had been a
+deserter, a deserter from every post. He had been to the southern
+frontier of the empire, the other side of the Danube, in the Kirghiz
+Steppe, in Eastern Siberia, the Caucasus, in a word, everywhere. Who
+knows? under other conditions this man might have been a Robinson
+Crusoe, with the passion of travel so on him. These details I have from
+other convicts, for he did not like talk, and never opened his mouth
+except when absolutely necessary. He was a peasant, of quite small size,
+of some fifty years, very quiet in demeanour, with a face so still as to
+seem quite without any sort of meaning, impassive almost to idiotcy.
+His delight was to sit for hours in the sun humming a sort of song
+between his teeth so softly, that five steps off he was inaudible. His
+features were, so to speak, petrified; he ate little, principally black
+bread; he never bought white bread or spirits; my belief is, he never
+had had any money, and that he couldn’t have counted it if he had. He
+was indifferent to everything. Sometimes he fed the prison dogs with his
+own hand, a thing no one else was known to do; (speaking generally,
+Russians don’t like giving dogs things to eat from the hand). People
+said that he had been married, twice even, and that he had children
+somewhere. Why he had been sent as a convict, I have not the least idea.
+We fellows were always fancying that he would escape; but his hour did
+not come, or perhaps had come and gone; anyhow, he went through with his
+punishment without resistance. He seemed an element quite foreign to the
+medium wherein he had his being, an alien, self-concentrated creature.
+Still, there was nothing in this deep surface calm which could be
+trusted; yet, after all, what good would it have been to him to escape
+from the place?
+
+Compared with life at the convict prison, the vagabond age of the
+forests is as the joys of Paradise. The tramp’s lot is wretched enough,
+but at least free. So it is that every prisoner all over the soil of
+Russia, becomes restless with the first rays of the smiling spring.
+
+Comparatively few form any settled plan for flight, they fear the
+hindrances in the way and the punishment that may ensue; only one in a
+hundred, not more, make up his mind to it, but how to do it is a thought
+that never ceases to haunt the minds of the ninety-nine others. Filled
+as they are with this longing, anything that looks like giving a chance
+of success is a comfort to them; then they set about comparing the facts
+with cases of successful escape. I speak only of prisoners after and
+under sentence, for prisoners not yet tried and condemned, are much more
+ready to try at an escape. And those who have been sentenced, rarely
+get away unless they attempt it in early days. When they have spent two
+or three years of their time, they put them to a sort of credit-account
+in their minds, and conclude that it is better to finish with the law
+and be put on land as a free man, rather than forfeit that time if they
+fail in escaping, which is always a possibility. Certainly not more than
+one convict in ten succeeds in _changing his lot_. Those who do, are
+nearly always men sentenced to an extremely long punishment, or for
+life. Fifteen, twenty years seem like an eternity to them. Then there is
+the branding, which is a great difficulty in the way of complete escape.
+
+_Changing your lot_ is a technical expression. When a convict is caught
+trying to escape, he is subjected to formal interrogatory, and will say
+he wanted to _change his lot_. This somewhat literary formula exactly
+represents the act in question. No escaped prisoner ever hopes to become
+a perfectly free man, for he knows that it is nearly impossible; what he
+looks for is to be sent to some other convict establishment, or to be
+put on the land, or to be tried again for some offence committed when on
+the tramp; in a word, to be sent anywhere else, it matters not where, so
+that he get out of his present prison which has become insufferable to
+him. All these fugitives, unless they find some unexpected shelter for
+the winter, unless they meet some one interested in concealing them, or
+if--last resort--they cannot procure--and sometimes a murder does
+it--the legal document, which enables them to go about unmolested
+everywhere; all these fugitives present themselves in crowds, during the
+autumn, in the towns and at the prisons; they confess themselves to be
+escaped tramps, pass the winter in jail, and live in the secret hope of
+getting away the following summer.
+
+On me, as well as others, the spring exercised its influence. Well do I
+remember the avidity with which my gaze fed upon the horizon through the
+gaps in the palisades; long, long did I stand with my head glued to the
+pickets, obstinately and insatiably gazing on the grass greening in the
+ditch surrounding the fortress, and at the blue of the distant sky as it
+grew denser and denser. My anguish, my melancholy, were heavier on me;
+as each day wore away the jail became odious, detestable. Hatred for me,
+as a man of the nobility, filled the hearts of the convicts during these
+first years, and this feeling of theirs simply poisoned my life for me.
+Often did I ask to be sent to the hospital, when there was no need of
+it, merely to be out of the punishment part of the place, to feel myself
+out of the range of this unrelenting and implacable hostility.
+
+“You nobles have beaks of iron, and you tore us to pieces with your
+beaks when we were serfs,” is what the convicts used to say to us. How I
+envied the people of the lower class who came into the place as
+prisoners! It was different with them, they were in comradeship with all
+there from the very first moment. So was it that in the spring, Freedom
+showing herself as a sort of phantom of the season, the joy diffused
+throughout all Nature, translated themselves within my soul into a more
+than doubled melancholy and nervous irritability.
+
+As the sixth week of Lent came I had to go through my religious
+exercises, for the convicts were divided by the sub-superintendent into
+seven sections--answering to the weeks in Lent--and these had to attend
+to their devotions according to this roster. Each section was composed
+of about thirty men. This week was a great solace to me; we went two or
+three times a day to the church, which was close to the prison. I had
+not been in church for a long time. The Lenten services, familiar to me
+from early childhood in my father’s house, the solemn prayers, the
+prostrations--all stirred in me the fibres of the memory of things long,
+long past, and woke my earliest impressions to fresh life. Well do I
+remember how happy I was when at morn we went into God’s house, treading
+the ground which had frozen in the night, under the escort of soldiers
+with loaded guns; the escort remained outside the church.
+
+Once within we were massed close to the door so that we could scarcely
+hear anything except the deep voice of the ministering deacon; now and
+again we caught a glimpse of a black chasuble or the bare head of the
+priest. Then it came into my mind how, when a child, I used to look at
+the common people who formed a compact mass at the door, and how they
+would step back in a servile way before some important epauletted
+fellow, or some nobleman with a big paunch, some lady splendidly dressed
+and of high devotion who, in a hurry to get at the front benches, and
+ready for a row if there was any difficulty as to their being honoured
+with the best of places. As it seemed to me then, it was only _there_,
+near the church door, not far from the entry, that prayer was put up
+with genuine fervour and humility, only there that, when people did
+prostrate themselves on the floor it was done with real abasement of
+self and full sense of unworthiness.
+
+And now I myself was in that place of the common people, no, not in
+their place, for we who were there were in chains and degradation.
+Everybody kept himself at a distance from us. We were feared, and alms
+were put in our hands as if we were beggars; I remember that all this
+gave me the strange sensation of a refined and subtle pleasure. “Let it
+even be so!” such was my thought. The convicts prayed with deep fervour;
+every one of them had with him his poor farthing for a little candle, or
+for their collection for the church expenses. “I too, I am a man,” each
+one of them perhaps said, as he made his offering; “before God we are
+all equal.”
+
+After the six o’clock mass we went up to communion. When the priest,
+_ciforium_ in hand, recited the words, “Have mercy on me as Thou hadst
+on the thief whom Thou didst save,” nearly all the convicts prostrated
+themselves, and their chains clanked; I think they took these words
+literally as applied to themselves, and not as being in Scripture.
+
+Holy Week came. The authorities presented each of us with an Easter egg,
+and a small piece of wheaten bread. The townspeople loaded us with
+benevolences. As at Christmas there was the priest’s visitation with
+the cross, inspecting visit of the heads of departments, larded cabbage,
+general enlargement of soul, and unlimited lounging, the only difference
+being, that one could now walk about in the court-yard, and warm oneself
+in the sun. Everything seemed filled with more light, larger than in the
+winter, but also more fraught with sadness. The long, endless, summer
+days seemed peculiarly unbearable on Church holidays. Work days were at
+least shortened to our sense by the fatigue of work.
+
+Our summer labours were much more trying than the winter tasks; our
+business was principally that of carrying out engineering works. The
+convicts were set to building, digging, bricklaying, or repairing
+Government buildings, locksmith’s work, or carpentering, or painting.
+Others went into the brick-fields, and that was looked upon by us as the
+hardest of all we had laid on us. The brick-fields were situated about
+four versts from the fortress; through all the summer they sent there,
+every morning at six o’clock, a gang of fifty convicts. For this gang
+they used to pick out workmen who had learned no trade in particular.
+The convicts took with them their bread for the day, the distance was
+too great for them to come back, eight useless versts, for dinner with
+the others, so they had a meal when they returned in the evening.
+
+Work was assigned to each for the day, but there was so much of it that
+it was all a man could do, nay, more, to get to the end of it. First, we
+had to dig and carry the clay, moisten it, and mould it in the ditch,
+and then make a goodly quantity of bricks, two hundred or so, sometimes
+fifty more than that. I was only twice sent to the brick-field. The
+convicts sent to this labour came back in the evening dead tired, and
+every one of them complained of the others, that he had had the worst of
+the work put on him. I believe that reproaches of this kind were a
+pleasure, a consolation to them. Some of them, however, liked the
+brick-field work, because they got away from the town, and to the banks
+of the Irtych into open, agreeable country, with the sky overhead; the
+surroundings were more agreeable than those frightful Government
+buildings. They were allowed to smoke there in all freedom, and to
+remain lying down for half-an-hour or so, which was a great pleasure.
+
+As for me, I was sent to one of the shops, or else to pound up
+alabaster, or to carry bricks, which last job I had for two months
+together. I had to take my tale of bricks from the banks of the Irtych
+to a distance of about 140 yards, and to pass the ditch of the fortress
+before getting to the barrack which they were putting up. This work
+suited me well enough, although the cord with which I carried my bricks
+sawed my shoulders; what particularly pleased me was that my strength
+increased sensibly. At the outset I could not carry more than eight
+bricks at once; each of them weighed about twelve pounds. I got to be
+able to carry twelve, or even fifteen, which delighted me much. You
+wanted physical as well as moral strength to be able to bear all the
+discomforts of that accursed life.
+
+There was this, too: I wanted, when I left the place, really to live,
+not to be half-dead. I took pleasure in carrying my bricks, then; it was
+not merely that this labour strengthened my body, but because it took me
+always to the banks of the Irtych. I speak often of this spot, it was
+the only one where we saw God’s _own_ world, a pure and bright horizon,
+the free desert steppes, whose bareness always produced a strange
+impression on me. All the other workyards were in the fortress itself,
+or in its neighbourhood; and the fortress, from the earliest days I was
+there, was the object of my hatred, and, above all, its appurtenant
+buildings. The house of the Major Commandant seemed to me a repulsive,
+accursed place. I never could pass it without casting upon it a look of
+detestation; while at the river-bank I could forget my miserable self as
+I sent my gaze over the immense desert space, just as a prisoner may
+when he looks at the world of freedom through the barred casement of his
+dungeon. Everything in that place was dear and gracious to my eyes; the
+sun shining in the infinite blue of heaven, the distant song of the
+Kirghiz that came from the opposite bank.
+
+Sometimes I would fix my sight for a long while upon the poor smoky
+cabin of some _baïgouch_; I would study the bluish smoke as it curled in
+the air, the Kirghiz woman busy with her two sheep.... The things I saw
+were wild, savage, poverty-stricken; but they were free. I would follow
+the flight of a bird threading its way in the pure transparent air; now
+it skims the water, now disappears in the azure sky, now suddenly comes
+to view again, a mere point in space. Even the poor wee floweret fading
+in a cleft of the bank, which would show itself when spring began, fixed
+my attention and would draw my tears.... The melancholy of this first
+year of convict life and hard labour was unendurable, too much for my
+strength. The anguish of it was so great, I could not notice my
+immediate surroundings at all; I merely shut my eyes and would not see.
+Among the creatures with spoiled lives with whom I had to live, I did
+not yet note those who were capable of thinking and feeling, in spite of
+their external repulsiveness. There came not to my ears (or if there did
+I knew it not) one word of kindliness in the midst of the rain of
+poisonous talk that came down all the time. Still one such utterance
+there was, simple, straightforward, of pure motive, and it came from the
+heart of a man who had suffered and endured more than myself. But it is
+useless to enlarge on this.
+
+The great fatigue I underwent was a source of satisfaction, it gave me
+hope of sound sleep. During the summer sleep was torment, more
+intolerable than the closeness and infection winter brought with it.
+Some of the nights were certainly very beautiful. The sun, which had not
+ceased to inundate the court-yard all the day, hid itself at last. The
+air freshened, and the night, the night of the steppe, became
+comparatively cold. The convicts, until shut up in their barracks,
+walked about in groups, especially on the kitchen side; for that was the
+place where questions of general interest were by preference discussed,
+and comments were made upon the rumours from without, often absurd
+indeed, but always keenly exciting to these men cut off from the world.
+For example, we suddenly learn that our Major had been roughly dismissed
+from his post. Convicts are as credulous as children; they know the news
+to be false, or most unlikely, and that the fellow who brings it is a
+past master in the art of lying, Kvassoff; for all that they clutch at
+the nonsensical story, go into high delight over it, are much consoled,
+and at last quite ashamed to have been duped by a Kvassoff.
+
+“I should like to know who’ll show _him_ the door?” cries one convict;
+“don’t you fear, he’s a fellow who knows how to stick on.”
+
+“But,” says another, “he has his superiors over him.” This one is a warm
+controversialist, and has seen the world.
+
+“Wolves don’t feed on one another,” says a third gloomily, half to
+himself. _This_ one is an old fellow, growing gray, and he always takes
+his sour cabbage soup into a corner, and eats it there.
+
+“Do you think his superiors will take _your_ advice whether they shall
+show him the door or not?” adds a fourth, who doesn’t seem to care about
+it at all, giving a stroke to his balalaïka.
+
+“Well, why not?” replies the second angrily; “if you _are_ asked, answer
+what’s in your mind. But no, with us fellows it’s all mere cry, and when
+you ought to go at things with a will, everybody sneaks out.”
+
+“That’s _so_!” says the one playing with the balalaïka. “Hard labour and
+prison are just the things to cause _that_.”
+
+“It was like that the other day,” says the second one, without hearing
+the remark made to him. “There was a little wheat left, sweepings, a
+mere nothing; there was some idea of turning the refuse into money;
+well, look here, they took it to him, and he confiscated it. All
+economy, you see. Was that _so_, and was it right--yes or no?”
+
+“But whom can you complain to?”
+
+“To whom? Why, the ’spector (_Inspector_) who’s coming.”
+
+“What ’spector?”
+
+“It’s true, pals, a ’spector is coming soon,” said a youthful convict,
+who had got some sort of knowledge, had read the “Duchesse de la
+Vallière,” or some book of that sort, and who had been Quartermaster in
+a regiment; a bit of a wag, whom, as a man of information, the convicts
+held in a sort of respect. Without paying the least attention to the
+exciting debate, he goes straight to the cook, and asks him for some
+liver. Our cooks often deal in victuals of that kind; they used to buy a
+whole liver, cut it in pieces, and sell it to the other convicts.
+
+“Two kopecks’ worth, or four?” asks cook.
+
+“A four-kopeck cut; I’ll eat, the others shall look on and long,” says
+this convict. “Yes, pals, a general, a real general, is coming from
+Petersburg to ’spect all Siberia; it’s so, heard it at the Governor’s
+place.”
+
+This news produces an extraordinary effect. For a quarter of an hour
+they ask each other who this General can be? what’s his title? whether
+his grade is higher than that of the Generals of our town? The convicts
+delight in discussing ranks and degrees, in finding out who’s at the
+head of things, who can make the other officials crook their backs, and
+to whom he crooks his own; so they get up an argument and quarrel about
+their Generals, and rude words fly about, all in honour of these high
+officers--fights, too, sometimes. What interest can _they_ possibly have
+in it? When one hears convicts speaking of Generals and high officials
+one gets a measure of their intelligence as they were while still in the
+world before the prison days. It cannot be concealed that among our
+people, even in much higher circles, talk about generals and high
+officials is looked upon as the most serious and refined conversation.
+
+“Well, you see, they _have_ sent our Major to the right about, don’t
+ye?” observes Kvassoff, a little, rubicund, choleric, small-brained
+fellow, the same who had announced the supersession of the Major.
+
+“We’ll just grease their palm for them,” this, in staccato tones from
+the morose old fellow in the corner who had finished his sour cabbage
+soup.
+
+“I should think he would grease their palms, by Jove,” says another; “he
+has stolen money enough, the brigand. And, only think, he was only a
+regimental Major before he came here. He’s feathered his nest. Why, a
+little while ago he was engaged to the head priest’s daughter.”
+
+“But he didn’t get married; they turned him off, and that shows he’s
+poor. A pretty sort of fellow to get engaged! He’s got nothing but the
+coat on his back; last year, Easter time, he lost all he had at cards.
+Fedka told me so.”
+
+“Well, well, pals, I’ve been married myself, but it’s a bad thing for a
+poor devil; taking a wife is soon done, but the fun of it is more like
+an inch than a mile,” observes Skouratoff, who had just joined in the
+general talk.
+
+“Do you fancy we’re going to amuse ourselves by discussing _you_?” says
+the ex-quartermaster in a superior manner. “Kvassoff, I tell you you’re
+a big idiot! If you fancy that the Major can grease the palm of an
+Inspector-General you’ve got things finely muddled; d’ye fancy they send
+a man from Petersburg just to inspect your Major? You’re a precious
+dolt, my lad; take it from me that it is so.”
+
+“And you fancy because he’s a General he doesn’t take what’s offered?”
+said some one in the crowd in a sceptical tone.
+
+“I should think he did indeed, and plenty of it whenever he can.”
+
+“A dead sure thing that; gets bigger, and more, and worse, the higher
+the rank.”
+
+“A General _always_ has his palm greased,” says Kvassoff, sententiously.
+
+“Did _you_ ever give them money, as you’re so sure of it?” asks
+Baklouchin, suddenly striking in, in a tone of contempt; “come, now, did
+you ever see a General in all your life?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Liar!”
+
+“Liar, yourself!”
+
+“Well, boys, as he _has_ seen a General, let him say _which_. Come,
+quick about it; I know ’em all, every man jack.”
+
+“I’ve seen General Zibert,” says Kvassoff in tones far from sure.
+
+“Zibert! There’s no General of that name. That’s the General, perhaps,
+who was looking at your back when they gave you the cat. This Zibert
+was, perhaps, a Lieutenant-Colonel; but you were in such a fright just
+then, you took him for a General.”
+
+“No! Just hear me,” cries Skouratoff, “for I’ve got a wife. There was
+really a General of that name, a German, but a Russian subject. He
+confessed to the Pope, every year, all about his peccadilloes with gay
+women, and drank water like a duck, at least forty glasses of Moskva
+water one after the other; that was the way he got cured of some
+disease. I had it from his valet.”
+
+“I say! And the carp didn’t swim in his belly?” this from the convict
+with the balalaïka.
+
+“Be quiet, fellows, can’t you--one’s talking seriously, and there they
+are beginning their nonsense again. Who’s the ’spector that’s coming?”
+This was put by a convict who always seemed full of business, Martinof,
+an old man who had been in the Hussars.
+
+“Set of lying fellows!” said one of the doubters. “Lord knows where they
+get it all from; it’s all empty talk.”
+
+“It’s nothing of the sort,” observes Koulikoff, majestically silent
+hitherto, in dogmatic tones. “The man coming is big and fat, about fifty
+years, with regular features, and proud, contemptuous manners, on which
+he prides himself.”
+
+Koulikoff is a Tsigan, a sort of veterinary surgeon, makes money by
+treating horses in town, and sells wine in our prison. He’s no fool,
+plenty of brain, memory well stocked, lets his words fall as carefully
+as if every one of ’em was worth a rouble.
+
+“It’s true,” he went on very calmly, “I heard of it only last week; it’s
+a General with bigger epaulettes than most, and he’s going to inspect
+all Siberia. They grease his palm well for him, that’s sure enough; but
+not our Major with his eight eyes in his head. He won’t dare to creep in
+about _him_, for you see, pals, there are Generals and Generals, as
+there are fagots and fagots. It’s just this, and you may take it from
+me, our Major will remain where he is. _We’re_ fellows with no tongue,
+we’ve no right to speak; and as to our chiefs here, they’re not going to
+say a word against him. The ’spector will come into our jail, give a
+look round, and go off at once; he’ll say it was all right.”
+
+“Yes, but the Major’s in a fright; he’s been drunk since morning.”
+
+“And this evening he had two van-loads of things taken away; Fedka says
+so.”
+
+“You may scrub a nigger, he’ll never be white. Is it the first time
+you’ve seen him drunk, hey?”
+
+“No! It will be a devil of a shame if the General does nothing to him,”
+said the convicts, who began to get highly excited.
+
+The news of the arrival of the Inspector went through the prison. The
+prisoners went everywhere about the court-yard retailing the important
+fact. Some held their tongues and kept cool, trying to look important;
+some were really indifferent to it. Some of the convicts sat down on the
+steps of the doors to play the balalaïka, while some went on with their
+gossip. Some groups were singing in a drawling voice, but the whole
+court-yard was upset and excited generally.
+
+About nine o’clock they counted us, and quartered us in our barracks,
+which were closed for the night. A short summer night it was, so we were
+roused up at five o’clock in the morning, yet nobody had managed to
+sleep before eleven, for up to that hour there was conversation and all
+sort of movement was going on; sometimes, too, games of cards were made
+up, as in winter. The heat was intolerable, stifling. True, the open
+window let in some of the cool night air, but the convicts kept tossing
+themselves on their wooden beds as if delirious.
+
+Fleas countless. There were enough of them in winter; but when spring
+came they multiplied in proportions so formidable that I couldn’t
+believe it before I had to endure them. And as the summer went on the
+worse it was with them. I found out that one _could_ get used to fleas;
+but for all that, the torment of them is so great that it throws you
+into a fever; even when you get slumber you quite feel it is not sleep,
+you are half delirious, and know it.
+
+At last, towards morning, when the enemy is tired and you are
+deliciously asleep in the freshness of the early hours, suddenly sounds
+the pitiless morning drum-call. How you curse as you hear them, those
+sharp, quick strokes; you cower in your semi-pelisse, and then--you
+can’t help it--comes the thought that it will be so to-morrow, the day
+after, for many, many years, till you are set at liberty. When _will_ it
+come, this freedom, freedom? Where _is_ it in this world? _Where_ is it
+hiding? You _have_ to get up, they are walking about you in all
+directions. The usual noisy row begins. The convicts dress, and hurry
+to their work. It’s true you have an hour you can spend in sleep at
+noon.
+
+What we had been told about the Inspector was really true. The reports
+were more confirmed every day; and at last it became certain that a
+General, high in office, was coming from Petersburg to inspect all
+Siberia, that he was already at Tobolsk. Every day we learned something
+fresh about it. These rumours came from the town. They told us that
+there was alarm in all quarters, and that everybody was making
+preparations to show himself in as favourable a light as might be. The
+authorities were organising receptions, balls, fêtes of every kind.
+Gangs of convicts were sent to level the ways in the fortress, smooth
+away hummocks in the ground, paint the palings and other wood-work, to
+plaster, do up, and generally repair everything that was conspicuous.
+
+Our prisoners perfectly well understood the object of this labour, and
+their discussions became all the more animated and excited. Their
+imaginations passed all bounds. They even set about formulating some
+demands to be set before the General on his arrival, but that did not
+prevent their going on with their quarrels and violent speeches. Our
+Major was on hot coals. He came continually to visit the jail, shouted,
+and threw himself angrily on the fellows more than usual, sent them to
+the guard-room and punishment for a mere nothing, and watched very
+severely over the cleanliness and good order of the barracks. Just then,
+there occurred a little event which did not at all painfully affect this
+officer as one might have expected, but, on the contrary, caused him a
+lively satisfaction. One of the convicts struck another with an awl
+right in the chest, in a place quite near the heart.
+
+The delinquent’s name was Lomof; the name the victim was known by in the
+jail was Gavrilka. He was one of those seasoned tramps I’ve spoken about
+earlier. Whether he had any other name, I don’t know; I never heard any
+attributed to him, except that one, Gavrilka.
+
+Lomof had been a peasant comfortably off in the Government of T----,
+and district of K----. There were five of them living together, two
+brothers Lomof, and three sons. They were quite rich peasants; the talk
+throughout the district was that they had more than 300,000 roubles in
+paper money. They worked at currying and tanning; but their chief
+business was usury, harbouring tramps, and receiving stolen goods; all
+sorts of petty irregular doings. Half the peasants of their district
+owed them money, and so were in their clutches. They passed for being
+intelligent and full of cunning, and gave themselves very great airs. A
+great personage of their province had stopped on his way once at the
+father Lomof’s house, and this official had taken a fancy to him,
+because of his hardy and unscrupulous talk. Then they took it in their
+heads they might do exactly as they pleased, and mixed themselves up
+more and more with illegal doings. Everybody had a grievance against
+them, and would like to have seen them a hundred feet under the ground;
+but they got bolder and bolder every day. They were not afraid of the
+local police or the district tribunals.
+
+At last fortune betrayed them; their ruin came, not out of their secret
+crimes, but from an accusation which was all calumny and falsehood. Ten
+versts from their hamlet they had a farm where six Kirghiz labourers,
+long since brought down by them to be no better than slaves, used to
+pass the autumn. One fine day these Kirghiz were found murdered. An
+inquiry was set on foot that lasted long, thanks to which no end of
+atrocious things were brought to light. The Lomofs were accused of
+having assassinated their workmen. They had themselves told their story
+to the convicts, all the jail knew it perfectly; they were suspected of
+owing a great deal of money to the Kirghiz, and, as they were full of
+greed and avarice in spite of their large fortunes, it was believed they
+had paid the debt by taking the lives of the poor fellows. While the
+inquiry and trial went on, their property melted away utterly. The
+father died, the sons were transported; one of these, with the uncle,
+was condemned to fifteen years of hard labour.
+
+Now, they were perfectly innocent of the crime imputed to them. One fine
+day Gavrilka, a thorough-paced rascal, known as a tramp, but of very gay
+and lively turn, avowed himself the author of the crime. As a matter of
+fact I don’t know whether he actually made this avowal himself, but what
+is sure is that the convicts held him to be the murderer of the Kirghiz.
+
+This Gavrilka, while still tramping about, had been mixed up in some way
+with the Lomofs (his confinement in one jail was for quite a short
+sentence, for desertion from the army and tramping). He had cut the
+throats of the Kirghiz--three other marauding fellows had been in it
+with him--in the hope of setting themselves up a bit with the plunder of
+the farm.
+
+The Lomofs were no favourites with us, I really don’t know why. One of
+them, the nephew, was a sturdy fellow, intelligent and sociable; but his
+uncle, the one that struck Gavrilka with the awl, was a choleric, stupid
+rustic, always quarrelling with the convicts, who knocked him about like
+plaster. All the jail liked Gavrilka for his gaiety and good-humour. The
+Lomofs got to know, like the rest, that he was the man who committed the
+crime they were condemned for; but they never got into any quarrel with
+him. Gavrilka paid no attention whatever to them.
+
+The row with Uncle Lomof began about some disgusting girl they had
+quarrelled over. Gavrilka had boasted of the favour she had shown him.
+The peasant, mad with jealousy, ended by driving an awl into his chest.
+
+Although the Lomofs had been ruined by their trial and sentence, they
+passed in the jail for being very rich. They had money, a samovar, and
+drank tea. Our Major knew all about it, and hated the two Lomofs,
+sparing them no vexation. The victims of his hate explained it by a
+desire to have them grease his palm well, but they could not, or would
+not, bring themselves to do it.
+
+If Uncle Lomof had struck his awl one hair’s breadth further in
+Gavrilka’s breast he would certainly have killed him; as it was, the
+wound did not much signify. The affair was reported to the Major. I
+think I see him now as he came up out of breath, but with visible
+satisfaction. He addressed Gavrilka in an affable, fatherly way:
+
+“Tell me, lad, can you walk to the hospital or must they carry you
+there? No, I think it will be better to have a horse; let them put a
+horse to this moment!” he cried out to the sub-officer with a gasp.
+
+“But I don’t feel it at all, your worship; he’s only given me a bit of a
+prick, your worship.”
+
+“You don’t know, my dear fellow, you don’t know; you’ll see. A nasty
+place he’s struck you in. All depends upon the place. He has given it
+you just below the heart, the scoundrel. Wait, wait!” he howled to
+Lomof. “I’ve got you tight; take him to the guard-house.”
+
+He kept his promise. Lomof was tried, and, though the wound was slight,
+there was plainly malice aforethought; his sentence of hard labour was
+extended for several years, and they gave him a thousand strokes with
+the rod. The Major was delighted.
+
+The Inspector arrived at last.
+
+The day after he reached the town, he came to the convict establishment
+to make his inspection. It was a regular fête-day. For some days
+everything had been brilliantly clean, washed with great precision. The
+convicts were all just shaven, their linen quite white and without a
+stain. (According to the regulations, they wore in summer waistcoats and
+pantaloons of canvas. Every one had a round black piece sown in at the
+back, eight centimetres in diameter.) For a whole hour the prisoners had
+been drilled as to what they should answer, the very words to be used,
+particularly if the high functionary should take any notice of them.
+
+There had been even regular rehearsals. The Major seemed to have lost
+his head. An hour before the coming in of the Inspector, all the
+convicts were at their posts, as stiff as statues, with their little
+fingers on the seams of their pantaloons. At last, just about one
+o’clock the Inspector made his entry. He was a General, with a most
+self-sufficing bearing, so much so, that the mere sight of it must have
+sent a tremor into the hearts of all the officials of West Siberia.
+
+He came in with a stern and majestic air, followed by a crowd of
+Generals and Colonels doing service in our town. There was a civilian,
+too, of high stature and regular features, in frock-coat and shoes. This
+personage bore himself very independently and airily, and the General
+addressed him every moment with exquisite politeness. This civilian also
+had come from Petersburg. All the convicts were terribly curious as to
+who he could be, such an important General showing him such deference?
+We learned who he was and what his office later, but he was a good deal
+talked about before we knew.
+
+Our Major, all spick and span, with orange-coloured collar, made no too
+favourable impression upon the General; the blood-shot eyes and fiery
+rubicund complexion plainly told their own story. Out of respect for his
+superior he had taken off his spectacles, and stood some way off, as
+straight as a dart, in feverish expectation that something would be
+asked of him, that he might run and carry out His Excellency’s wishes;
+but no particular need of his services seemed to be felt.
+
+The General went all through the barracks without saying a word, threw a
+glance into the kitchen, where he tasted the sour cabbage soup. They
+pointed me out to him, telling him that I was an ex-nobleman, who had
+done this, that, and the other.
+
+“Ah!” answered the General. “And how does he conduct himself?”
+
+“Satisfactorily for the time being, your Excellency, satisfactorily.”
+
+The General nodded, and left the jail in a couple of minutes more. The
+convicts were dazzled and disappointed, and did not know what to be at.
+As to laying complaints against the Major, that was quite over, could
+not be thought of. He had, no doubt, been quite well assured as to this
+beforehand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT
+
+
+Gniedko, a bay horse, was bought a little while afterwards, and the
+event furnished a much more agreeable and interesting diversion to the
+convicts than the visit of the high personage I have been talking about.
+We required a horse at the jail for carrying water, refuse matter, etc.
+He was given to a convict to take care of and use; this man drove him,
+under escort, of course. Our horse had plenty to do morning and night;
+it was a worthy sort of beast, but a good deal worn, and had been in
+service for a long time already.
+
+One fine morning, the eve of St. Peter’s Day, Gniedko, our bay, who was
+dragging a barrel of water, fell all of a heap, and gave up the ghost in
+a few minutes. He was much regretted, so all the convicts gathered round
+him to discuss his death. Those who had served in the cavalry, the
+Tsigans, the veterinary fellows, and others, showed a profound knowledge
+of horses in general and fiercely argued the question; but all that did
+not bring our bay horse to life again; there he was stretched out and
+dead, with his belly all swollen. Every one thought it incumbent on him
+to feel about the poor thing with his hands; finally the Major was
+informed of what Providence had done in the horse’s case, and it was
+decided that another should be bought at once.
+
+St. Peter’s Day, quite early after mass, all the convicts being
+together, horses that were on sale were brought in. It was left to the
+prisoners to choose an animal, for there were some thorough experts
+among them, and it would have been difficult to take in 250 men, with
+whom horse-dealing had been a speciality. Tsigans, Lesghians,
+professional horse-dealers, townsmen, came in to deal. The convicts were
+exceedingly eager about the matter as each fresh horse was brought up,
+and were as amused as children about it all. It seemed to tickle their
+fancy very much, that they had to buy a horse like free men, just as if
+it was for themselves and the money was to come out of their own
+pockets. Three horses were brought and taken away before purchase; the
+fourth was settled on. The horse-dealers seemed astonished and a little
+awed at the soldiers of the escort who watched the business. Two hundred
+men, clean shaven, branded as they were, with chains on their feet, were
+well calculated to inspire respect, all the more as they were in their
+own place, at home so to speak, in their own convict’s den, where nobody
+was ever allowed to come.
+
+Our fellows seemed to be up to no end of tricks for finding out the real
+value of a horse brought up; they carefully examined it, handled it with
+the most serious demeanour, went on as if the welfare of the
+establishment was bound up with the purchase of this beast. The
+Circassians took the liberty of jumping upon his back: their eyes shone
+wildly, they chatted rapidly in their incomprehensible dialect, showed
+their white teeth, dilating the nostrils of their hooked copper-coloured
+noses. There were some Russians who paid the most lively attention to
+their discussion, and seemed ready to jump down their throats; they did
+not understand a word, but it was plain they did what they could to
+gather from the expression of the eyes of the fellows whether the horse
+was good or not. But what could it matter to a convict, especially to
+some of them, who were creatures altogether down and done for, who never
+ventured to utter a single word to the others? What _could_ it matter to
+such as these, whether one horse or another was bought? Yet it seemed as
+if it did. The Circassians appeared to be most relied on for their
+opinion, and besides these a foremost place in the discussion was given
+to the Tsigans, and those who had formerly been horse-dealers.
+
+There was a regular sort of duel between two convicts--the Tsigan
+Koulikoff, who had been a horse-dealer and stealer, and another who had
+been a professional veterinary, a tricky Siberian peasant, who had been
+at the establishment and at hard labour for some time, and who had
+succeeded in getting all Koulikoff’s practice in the town. I ought to
+mention that the veterinary practitioners at the prison, though without
+diploma, were very much sought after, and that not only the townspeople
+and tradespeople, but high officials in the city, took their advice when
+their horses fell ill, rather than that of several regularly
+diplomatised veterinaries who were at the place.
+
+Till Jolkin came, the Siberian peasant Koulikoff had had plenty of
+clients from whom he had had fees in good hard cash. He was looked on as
+quite at the head of his business. He was a Tsigan all over in his
+doings, liar and cheat, and not at all the master of his art he boasted
+of being. The income he made had raised him to be a sort of aristocrat
+among our convicts; he was listened to and obeyed, but he spoke little,
+and expressed an opinion only in great emergencies. He blew his own
+trumpet loudly, but he really was a fellow of great energy; he was of
+ripe age, and of quite marked intelligence. When he spoke to us of the
+nobility, he did so with exquisite politeness and perfect dignity. I am
+sure that if he had been suitably dressed, and introduced into a club at
+the capital with the title of Count, he would have lived up to it;
+played whist, talked to admiration like a man used to command, and one
+who knew when to hold his tongue. I am sure that the whole evening would
+have passed without any one guessing that the “Count” was nothing but a
+vagabond. He had very probably had a very large and varied experience in
+life; as to his past, it was quite unknown to us. They kept him among
+the convicts who formed a special section reserved from the others.
+
+But no sooner had Jolkin come--he was a simple peasant, one of the “old
+believers,” but just as tricky as it was possible for a moujik to
+be--the veterinary glory of Koulikoff paled sensibly. In less than two
+months the Siberian had got from him all his town practice, for he cured
+in a very short time horses Koulikoff had declared incurable, and which
+had been given up by the regular veterinaries. This peasant had been
+condemned and sent to hard labour for coining. It is an odd thing he
+should ever have been tempted to go into that line of business. He told
+us all about it himself, and joked about their wanting three coins of
+genuine gold to make one false.
+
+Koulikoff was not a little put out at this peasant’s success, while his
+own glory so rapidly declined. There was he who had had a mistress in
+the suburbs, who used to wear a plush jacket and top-boots, and here he
+was now obliged to turn tavern-keeper; so everybody looked out for a
+regular row when the new horse was bought. The thing was very
+interesting, each of them had his partisans; the more eager among them
+got to angry words about it on the spot. The cunning face of Jolkin was
+all wrinkled into a sarcastic smile; but it turned out quite differently
+from what was expected. Koulikoff had not the least desire for argument
+or dispute, he managed cunningly without that. At first he gave way on
+every point, and listened deferentially to his rival’s criticisms, then
+he caught him up sharply on some remark or other, and pointed out to him
+modestly but firmly that he was all wrong. In a word, Jolkin was utterly
+discomfited in a surprisingly clever way, so Koulikoff’s side was quite
+well pleased.
+
+“I say, boys, it’s no use talking; you can’t trip _him_ up. He knows
+what he is about,” said some.
+
+“Jolkin knows more about the matter than he does,” said others; not
+offensively, however. Both sides were ready to make concessions.
+
+“Then, he’s got a lighter hand, besides having more in his head. I tell
+you that when it comes to stock, horses, or anything else, Koulikoff
+needn’t duck under to anybody.”
+
+“Nor need Jolkin, I tell you.”
+
+“There’s nobody like Koulikoff.”
+
+The new horse was selected and bought. It was a capital gelding--young,
+vigorous, and handsome; an irreproachable beast altogether. The
+bargaining began. The owner asked thirty roubles; the convicts wouldn’t
+give more than twenty-five. The higgling went on long and hotly. At
+length the convicts began laughing.
+
+“Does the money come out of your own purse?” said some. “What’s the good
+of all this?”
+
+“Do you want to save for the Government cashbox?” cried others.
+
+“But it’s money that belongs to us all, pals,” said one.
+
+“Us all! It’s plain enough that you needn’t trouble to grow idiots,
+they’ll come up of themselves without it.”
+
+At last the business was settled at twenty-eight roubles. The Major was
+informed, the purchase sanctioned. Bread and salt were brought at once,
+and the new boarder led in triumph into the jail. There was not one of
+the convicts, I think, that did not pat his neck or caress his head.
+
+The day we got him he was at once put to fetching water. All the
+convicts gazed on him curiously as he pulled at his barrel.
+
+Our waterman, the convict Roman, kept his eyes on the beast with a
+stupid sort of satisfaction. He was formerly a peasant, about fifty
+years of age, serious and silent, like all the Russian coachmen, whose
+behaviour would really seem to acquire some extra gravity by reason of
+their being always with horses.
+
+Roman was a quiet creature, affable all round, said little, took snuff
+from a box. He had taken care of the horses at the jail for some time
+before that. The one just bought was the third given into his charge
+since he came to the place.
+
+The coachman’s office fell, as a matter of course, to Roman; nobody
+would have dreamed of contesting his right to it. When the bay horse
+dropped and died, nobody dreamed of accusing Roman of imprudence, not
+even the Major. It was the will of God, that was all; as to Roman, he
+knew his business.
+
+That bay horse had become the pet of the jail at once. The convicts were
+not particularly tender fellows; but they could not help coming to pet
+him often.
+
+Sometimes when Roman, returning from the river, shut the great gate
+which the sub-officer had opened, Gniedko would stand quite still
+waiting for his driver, and turning to him as for orders.
+
+“Get along, you know the way,” Roman would cry to him. Then Gniedko
+would go off peaceably to the kitchen and stop there, and the cooks and
+other servants of the place would fill their buckets with water, which
+Gniedko seemed to know all about.
+
+“Gniedko, you’re a trump! He’s brought his water-barrel himself. He’s a
+delight to see!” they would cry to him.
+
+“That’s true; he’s only a beast, but he knows all that’s said to him.”
+
+“No end of a horse is our Gniedko!”
+
+Then the horse shook his head and snorted, just as if he really
+understood all about his being praised; then some one would bring him
+bread and salt; and when he had finished with them he would shake his
+head again, as if to say, “I know you; I know you. I’m a good horse,
+and you’re a good fellow.”
+
+I was quite fond of regaling Gniedko with bread. It was quite a pleasure
+to me to look at his nice mouth, and to feel his warm, moist lips
+licking up the crumbs from the palm of my hand.
+
+Our convicts were fond of live things, and if they had been allowed
+would have filled the barracks with birds and domestic animals. What
+could possibly have been better than attending to such creatures for
+raising and softening the wild temper of the prisoners? But it was not
+permitted; it was not in the regulations; and, truth to say, there was
+no room there for many creatures.
+
+However, in my time some animals had established themselves in the jail.
+Besides Gniedko, we had some dogs, geese, a he-goat--Vaska--and an
+eagle, which remained only a short time.
+
+I think I have said before that _our_ dog was called Bull, and that he
+and I had struck up a friendship; but as the lower orders regard dogs as
+impure animals undeserving of attention, nobody minded him. He lived in
+the jail itself; slept in the court-yard; ate the leavings of the
+kitchen, and had no hold whatever on the sympathy of the convicts; all
+of whom he knew, however, and regarded as masters and owners. When the
+men assigned to work came back to the jail, at the cry of “Corporal,” he
+used to run to the great gate and gaily welcome the gang, wagging his
+tail and looking into every man’s eyes, as though he expected a caress.
+But for several years his little ways were as useless as they were
+engaging. Nobody but myself did caress him; so I was the one he
+preferred to all others. Somehow--I don’t know in what way--we got
+another dog. Snow he was called. As to the third, Koultiapka, I brought
+him myself to the place when he was but a pup.
+
+Our Snow was a strange creature. A telega had gone over him and driven
+in his spine, so that it made a curve inside him. When you saw him
+running at a distance, he looked like twin-dogs born with a ligament. He
+was very mangy, too, with bleary eyes, and his tail was hairless, and
+always hanging between his legs.
+
+Victim of ill-fate as he was, he seemed to have made up his mind to be
+always as impassive as possible; so he never barked at anybody, for he
+seemed to be afraid of getting into some fresh trouble. He was nearly
+always lurking at the back of the buildings; and if anybody came near he
+rolled on his back at once, as though he meant to say, “Do what you like
+with me; I’ve not the least idea of resisting you.” And every convict,
+when the dog upset himself like that, would give him a passing
+obligatory kick, with “Ouh! the dirty brute!” But Snow dared not so much
+as give a groan; and if he was too much hurt, would only utter a little,
+dull, strangled yelp. He threw himself down just the same way before
+Bull or any other dog when he came to try his luck at the kitchen; and
+he would stretch himself out flat if a mastiff or any other big dog came
+barking at him. Dogs like submission and humility in other dogs; so the
+angry brute quieted down at once, and stopped short reflectively before
+the poor, humble beast, and then sniffed him curiously all over.
+
+I wonder what poor Snow, trembling with fright, used to think at such
+moments. “Is this brigand of a fellow going to bite me?”--no doubt
+something like that. When he had sniffed enough at him, the big brute
+left him at once, having probably discovered nothing in particular. Snow
+used then to jump to his feet, and join a lot of four-footed fellows
+like him who were running down some yutchka or other.
+
+Snow knew quite well that no yutchka would ever condescend to the like
+of him, that she was too proud for that, but it was some consolation to
+him in his troubles to limp after her. As to decent behaviour, he had
+but a very vague notion of any such thing. Being totally without any
+hope in his future, his highest aim was to get a bellyful of victuals,
+and he was cynical enough in showing that it was so.
+
+Once I tried to caress him. This was such an unexpected and new thing to
+him that he plumped down on the ground quite helplessly, and quivered
+and whined in his delight. As I was really sorry for him I used to
+caress him often, so as soon as he caught sight of me he began to whine
+in a plaintive, tearful way. He came to his end at the back of the jail,
+in the ditch; some dogs tore him to pieces.
+
+Koultiapka was quite a different style of dog. I don’t know why I
+brought him in from one of the workshops, where he was just born; but it
+gave me pleasure to feed him, and see him grow big. Bull took Koultiapka
+under his protection, and slept with him. When the young dog began to
+grow up, Bull was remarkably complaisant with him. He allowed the pup to
+bite his ears, and pull his skin with his teeth; he played with him as
+mature dogs are in the habit of doing with the youngsters. It was a
+strange thing, but Koultiapka never grew in height at all, only in
+length and breadth. His hide was fluffy and mouse-coloured; one of his
+ears hung down, while the other was always cocked up. He was, like all
+young dogs, ardent and enthusiastic, yelping with pleasure when he saw
+his master, and jumping up to lick his face precisely as if he said: “As
+long as he sees how delighted I am, I don’t care; let etiquette go to
+the devil!”
+
+Wherever I was, at my call, “Koultiapka,” out he came from some corner,
+dashing towards me with noisy satisfaction, making a ball of himself,
+and rolling over and over. I was exceedingly fond of the little wretch,
+and I used to fancy that destiny had reserved for him nothing but joy
+and pleasure in this world of ours; but one fine day the convict
+Neustroief, who made women’s shoes and prepared skins, cast his eye on
+him; something had evidently struck him, for he called Koultiapka, felt
+his skin, and turned him over on the ground in a friendly way. The
+unsuspicious dog barked with pleasure, but next day he was nowhere to be
+found. I hunted for him for some time, but in vain; at last, after two
+weeks, all was explained. Koultiapka’s natural cloak had been too much
+for Neustroief, who had flayed him to make up with the skin some boots
+of fur-trimmed velvet ordered by the young wife of some official. He
+showed them me when they were done, their inside lining was magnificent;
+all Koultiapka, poor fellow!
+
+A good many convicts worked at tanning, and often brought with them to
+the jail dogs with a nice skin, which soon were seen no more. They stole
+them or bought them. I remember one day I saw a couple of convicts
+behind the kitchens laying their heads together. One of them held in a
+leash a very fine black dog of particularly good breed. A scamp of a
+footman had stolen it from his master, and sold it to our shoemakers for
+thirty kopecks. They were going to hang it; that was their way of
+disposing of them; then they took the skin off, and threw the body into
+a ditch used for _ejecta_, which was in the most distant corner of the
+court, and which stank most horribly during the summer heats, for it was
+rarely seen to.
+
+I think the poor beast understood the fate in store for him. It looked
+at us one after another in a distressed, scrutinising way; at intervals
+it gave a timid little wag with its bushy tail between its legs, as
+though trying to reach our hearts by showing us every confidence. I
+hastened away from the convicts, who finished their vile work without
+hindrance.
+
+As to the geese of the establishment, they had established themselves
+there quite fortuitously. Who took care of them? To whom did they
+belong? I really don’t know; but they were a huge delight to our
+convicts, and acquired a certain fame throughout the town.
+
+They had been hatched in the convict establishment somewhere, and their
+head-quarters was the kitchen, whence they emerged in gangs of their
+own, when the gangs of convicts went out to their work. But as soon as
+the drum beat and the prisoners massed themselves at the great gate, out
+ran the geese after them, cackling and flapping their wings, then they
+jumped one after the other over the elevated threshold of the gateway;
+while the convicts were at their work, the geese pecked about at a
+little distance from them. As soon as they had done and set out for the
+jail, again the geese joined the procession, and people who passed by
+would cry out, “I say, there are the prisoners with their friends, the
+geese!” “How did you teach them to follow you?” some one would ask.
+“Here’s some money for your geese,” another said, putting his hand in
+his pocket. In spite of their devotion to the convicts they had their
+necks twisted to make a feast at the end of the Lent of some year, I
+forget which.
+
+Nobody would ever have made up his mind to kill our goat Vaska, unless
+something particular had happened; as it did. I don’t know how it got
+into our prison, or who had brought it. It was a white kid, and very
+pretty. After some days it had won all hearts, it was diverting and
+winning. As some excuse was needed for keeping it in the jail, it was
+given out that it was quite necessary to have a goat in the stables; but
+he didn’t live there, but in the kitchen principally; and after a while
+he roamed about all over the place. The creature was full of grace and
+as playful as could be, jumped on the tables, wrestled with the
+convicts, came when it was called, and was always full of spirits and
+fun.
+
+One evening, the Lesghian Babaï, who was seated on the stone steps at
+the doors of the barracks among a crowd of other convicts, took it into
+his head to have a wrestling bout with Vaska, whose horns were pretty
+long.
+
+They butted their foreheads against one another--that was the way the
+convicts amused themselves with him--when all of a sudden Vaska jumped
+on the highest step, lifted himself up on his hind legs, drew his
+fore-feet to him and managed to strike the Lesghian on the back of the
+neck with all his might, and with such effect that Babaï went headlong
+down the steps to the great delight of all who were by as well as of
+Babaï himself.
+
+In a word, we all adored our Vaska. When he attained the age of puberty,
+a general and serious consultation was held, as the result of which, he
+was subjected to an operation which one of the prison veterinaries
+executed in a masterly manner.
+
+“Well,” said the prisoners, “he won’t have any goat-smell about him,
+that’s one comfort.”
+
+Vaska then began to lay on fat in the most surprising way. I must say
+that we fed him quite unconscionably. He became a most beautiful fellow,
+with magnificent horns, corpulent beyond anything. Sometimes as he
+walked, he rolled over on the ground heavily out of sheer fatness. He
+went with us out to work too, which was very diverting to the convicts
+and all others who saw; and everybody got to know Vaska, the jailbird.
+
+When they worked at the river bank, the prisoners used to cut willow
+branches and other foliage, and gather flowers in the ditches to
+ornament Vaska. They used to twine the branches and flowers round his
+horns and decorate his body with garlands. Vaska then came back at the
+head of the gang in a splendid state of ornamentation, and we all came
+after in high pride at seeing him such a beauty.
+
+This love for our goat went so far that prisoners raised the question,
+not a very wise one, whether Vaska ought not to have his horns gilded.
+It was a vain idea; nothing came of it. I asked Akim Akimitch, the best
+gilder in the jail, whether you really could gild a goat’s horns. He
+examined Vaska’s quite closely, thought a bit, and then said that it
+could be done, but that it would not last, and would be quite useless.
+So nothing came of it. Vaska would have lived for many years more, and,
+no doubt, have died of asthma at last, if, one day as he returned from
+work at the head of the convicts, his path had not been crossed by the
+Major, who was seated in his carriage. Vaska was in particularly
+gorgeous array.
+
+“Halt!” yelled the Major. “Whose goat is that?”
+
+They told him.
+
+“What! a goat in the prison! and that without my leave? Sub-officer!”
+
+The sub-officer received orders to kill the goat without a moment’s
+delay; flay him, and sell his skin; and put the proceeds to the
+prisoners’ account. As to the meat, he ordered it to be cooked with the
+convicts’ cabbage soup.
+
+The occurrence was much discussed; the goat was much mourned; but nobody
+dared to disobey the Major. Vaska was put to death close to the ditch I
+spoke of just now. One of the convicts bought the carcase, paying a
+rouble and fifty kopecks. With this money white bread was bought for
+everybody. The man who had bought the goat sold him at retail in a
+roasted state. The meat was delicious.
+
+We had also, during some time, in our prison a steppe eagle; a quite
+small species. A convict brought it in, wounded, half-dead. Everybody
+came flocking around it; it could not fly, its right wing being quite
+powerless; one of its legs was badly hurt. It gazed on the curious crowd
+wrathfully, and opened its crooked beak, as if prepared to sell its life
+dearly. When we had looked at him long enough, and the crowd dispersed,
+the lamed bird went off, hopping on one paw and flapping his wing, and
+hid himself in the most distant part of the place he could find; there
+he huddled himself in a corner against the palings.
+
+During the three months that he remained in our court-yard he never came
+out of his corner. At first we went to look at him pretty often, and
+sometimes they set Bull at him, who threw himself forward with fury, but
+was frightened to go too near, which mightily amused the convicts. “A
+wild chap that! He won’t stand any nonsense!” But Bull after a while got
+over his fright, and began to worry him. When he was roused to it, the
+dog would catch hold of the bird’s bad wing, and the creature defended
+itself with beak and claws, and then got up closer into his corner with
+a proud, savage sort of demeanour, like a wounded king, fixing his eyes
+steadily on the fellows looking at his misery.
+
+They tired of the sport after a while, and the eagle seemed quite
+forgotten; but there was some one who, every day, put close to him a bit
+of fresh meat and a vessel with some water. At first, and for several
+days, the eagle would eat nothing; at last, he made up his mind to take
+what was left for him, but he never could be got to take anything from
+the hand, or in public. Sometimes I succeeded in watching his
+proceedings at some distance.
+
+When he saw nobody, and thought he was alone, he ventured upon leaving
+his corner and limping along the palisade for a dozen steps or so, then
+went back; and so forwards and backwards, precisely as if he were taking
+exercise for his health under medical orders. As soon as ever he caught
+sight of me he made for his corner as quickly as he possibly could,
+limping and hopping. Then he threw his head back, opened his mouth,
+ruffled himself, and seemed to make ready for fight.
+
+In vain I tried to caress him. He bit and struggled as soon as he was
+touched. Not once did he take the meat I offered him, and all the time I
+remained by him he kept his wicked, piercing eye upon me. Lonely and
+revengeful he waited for death, defying, refusing to be reconciled with
+everything and everybody.
+
+At last the convicts remembered him, after two months of complete
+forgetfulness, and then they showed a sympathy I did not expect of
+them. It was unanimously agreed to carry him out.
+
+“Let him die, but let him die in freedom,” said the prisoners.
+
+“Sure enough, a free and independent bird like that will never get used
+to the prison,” added others.
+
+“He’s not like us,” said some one.
+
+“Oh well, he’s a bird, and we’re human beings.”
+
+“The eagle, pals, is the king of the woods,” began Skouratof; but that
+day nobody paid any attention to him.
+
+One afternoon, when the drum beat for beginning work, they took the
+eagle, tied his beak (for he struck a desperate attitude), and took him
+out of the prison on to the ramparts. The twelve convicts of the gang
+were extremely anxious to know where he would go to. It was a strange
+thing: they all seemed as happy as though they had themselves got their
+freedom.
+
+“Oh, the wretched brute. One wants to do him a kindness, and he tears
+your hand for you by way of thanks,” said the man who held him, looking
+almost lovingly at the spiteful bird.
+
+“Let him fly off, Mikitka!”
+
+“It doesn’t suit _him_ being a prisoner; give him his freedom, his jolly
+freedom.”
+
+They threw him from the ramparts on to the steppe. It was just at the
+end of autumn, a gray, cold day. The wind whistled on the bare steppe
+and went groaning through the yellow dried-up grass. The eagle made off
+directly, flapping his wounded wing, as if in a hurry to quit us and get
+himself a shelter from our piercing eyes. The convicts watched him
+intently as he went along with his head just above the grass.
+
+“Do you see him, hey?” said one very pensively.
+
+“He doesn’t look round,” said another; “he hasn’t looked behind once.”
+
+“Did you happen to fancy he’d come back to thank us?” said a third.
+
+“Sure enough, he’s free; he feels it. It’s _freedom_!”
+
+“Yes, freedom.”
+
+“You won’t see him any more, pals.”
+
+“What are you about sticking there? March, march!” cried the escort, and
+all went slowly to their work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+GRIEVANCES
+
+
+At the outset of this chapter, the editor of the “Recollections” of the
+late Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff thinks it his duty to
+communicate what follows to his readers.
+
+“In the first chapter of the ‘Recollections of the House of the Dead,’
+something was said about a parricide, of noble birth, who was put
+forward as an instance of the insensibility with which the convicts
+speak of the crimes they have committed. It was also stated that he
+refused altogether to confess to the authorities and the court; but
+that, thanks to the statements of persons who knew all the details of
+his case and history, his guilt was put beyond all doubt. These persons
+had informed the author of the ‘Recollections,’ that the criminal had
+been of dissolute life and overwhelmed with debts, and that he had
+murdered his father to come into the property. Besides, the whole town
+where this parricide was imprisoned told his story in precisely the same
+way, a fact of which the editor of these ‘Recollections’ has fully
+satisfied himself. It was further stated that this murderer, even when
+in the jail, was of quite a joyous and cheerful frame of mind, a sort of
+inconsiderate giddy-pated person, although intelligent, and that the
+author of the ‘Recollections’ had never observed any particular signs of
+cruelty about him, to which he added, ‘So I, for my part, never could
+bring myself to believe him guilty.’
+
+“Some time ago the editor of the ‘Recollections of the House of the
+Dead,’ had intelligence from Siberia of the discovery of the innocence
+of this ‘parricide,’ and that he had undergone ten years of the
+imprisonment with hard labour for nothing; this was recognised and
+avowed by the authorities. The real criminals had been discovered and
+had confessed, and the unfortunate man in question set at liberty. All
+this stands upon unimpeachable and authoritative grounds.”
+
+To say more would be useless. The tragical facts speak too clearly for
+themselves. All words are weak in such a case, where a life has been
+ruined by such an accusation. Such mistakes as these are among the
+dreadful possibilities of life, and such possibilities impart a keener
+and more vivid interest to the “Recollections of the House of the Dead,”
+which dreadful place we see may contain innocent as well as guilty men.
+
+To continue. I have said that I became at last, in some sense,
+accustomed, if not reconciled, to the conditions of convict life; but it
+was a long and dreadful time before I was. It took me nearly a year to
+get used to the prison, and I shall always regard this year as the most
+dreadful of my life, it is graven deep in my memory, down to the very
+least details. I think that I could minutely recall the events and
+feelings of each successive hour in it.
+
+I have said that the other prisoners, too, found it as difficult as I
+did to get used to the life they had to lead. During the whole of this
+first year, I used to ask myself whether they were really as calm as
+they seemed to be. Questions of this kind pressed themselves upon me. As
+I have mentioned before, all the convicts felt themselves in an alien
+element to which they could not reconcile themselves. The sense of home
+was an impossibility; they felt as if they were staying, as a stage
+upon a journey, in an evil sort of inn. These men, exiles for and from
+life, seemed either in a perpetual smouldering agitation, or else in
+deep depression; but there was not one who had not his ordinary ideas of
+one thing or another. This restlessness, which, if it did not come to
+the surface, was still unmistakable; those vague hopes of the poor
+creatures which existed in spite of themselves, hopes so ill-founded
+that they were more like the promptings of incipient insanity than aught
+else; all this stamped the place with a character, an originality,
+peculiarly its own. One could not but feel when one went there that
+there was nothing like it anywhere else in the whole world. There
+everybody went about in a sort of waking dream; nor was there anything
+to relieve or qualify the impressions the place made on the system of
+every man; so that all seemed to suffer from a sort of hyperæsthetic
+neurosis, and this dreaming of impossibilities gave to the majority of
+the convicts a sombre and morose aspect, for which the word morbid is
+not strong enough. Nearly all were taciturn and irascible, preferring to
+keep to themselves the hopes they secretly and vainly cherished. The
+result was, that anything like ingenuousness or frank statement was the
+object of general contempt. Precisely because these wild hopings were
+impossible, and, despite themselves, were felt to be so, confessed to
+their more lucid selves to be so, they kept them jealously concealed in
+the most secret recesses of their souls; while to renounce them was
+beyond their powers of self-control. It may be they were ashamed of
+their imagination. God knows. The Russian character is, in its normal
+conditions, so positive and sober in its way of looking at life, so
+pitiless in criticism of its own weaknesses.
+
+Perhaps it was this inward misery of self-dissatisfaction which was at
+the bottom of the impatience and intolerance the convicts showed among
+themselves, and of the cruel biting things they said to each other. If
+one of them, more naïve or impartial than the rest, put into words what
+every one of them had in his mind, painted his castles in the air, told
+his dreams of liberty, or plans of escape, they shut him up with brutal
+promptitude, and made the poor fellow’s life a burden to him with their
+sarcasms and jests. And I think those did it most unscrupulously who had
+perhaps themselves gone furthest in cherishing futile hopes, and
+indulging in senseless expectations. I have said, more than once, that
+those among them who were marked by simplicity and candour were looked
+on rather as being stupid and idiotic; there was nothing but contempt
+for them. The convicts were so soured and, in the wrong sense,
+sensitive, that they positively hated anything like amiability or
+unselfishness. I should be disposed to classify them all broadly, as
+either good or bad men, morose or cheerful, putting by themselves, as a
+sort of separate creatures, the ingenious fellows who could not hold
+their tongues. But the sour-tempered were in far the greatest majority;
+some of these were talkative, but these were usually of slanderous and
+envious disposition, always poking their noses into other people’s
+business, though they took good care not to let anybody have a glimpse
+of the secret thoughts of their _own_ souls; that would have been
+against the fashions and conventions of this strange, little world. As
+to the fellows who were really good--very few indeed were they--these
+were always very quiet and peaceable, and buried their hopes, if they
+had any, in strict silence; but more of real faith went with their hopes
+than was the case with the gloomy-minded among the convicts. Stay, there
+was one category further among our convicts, which ought not to be
+forgotten; the men who had lost all hope, who were despairing and
+desperate, like the old man of Starodoub; but these were very few
+indeed.
+
+The old man of Starodoub! This was a very subdued, quiet, old man; but
+there were some indications of what went on in him, which he could not
+help giving, and from which, I could not help seeing, that his inward
+life was one of intolerable horror; still he had _something_ to fall
+back upon for help and consolation--prayer, and the notion that he was a
+martyr. The convict who was always reading the Bible, of whom I spoke
+earlier, the one that went mad and threw himself, brick in hand, upon
+the Major, was also probably one of those whom hope had altogether
+abandoned; and, as it is perfectly impossible to go on living without
+hope of some sort, he threw away his life as a sort of voluntary
+sacrifice. He declared that he attacked the Major though he had no
+grievance in particular; all he wanted was to have some torments
+inflicted on himself.
+
+Now, what sort of psychological operation had been going on in _that_
+man’s soul? No man lives, can live, without having _some_ object in
+view, and making efforts to attain that object. But when object there is
+none, and hope is entirely fled, anguish often turns a man into a
+monster. The object _we_ all had in view was liberty, and getting out of
+our place of confinement and hard labour.
+
+So I try to place our convicts in separately-defined classes and
+categories; but it cannot well be done. Reality is a thing of infinite
+diversity, and defies the most ingenious deductions and definitions of
+abstract thought, nay, abhors the clear and precise classifications we
+so delight in. Reality tends to infinite subdivision of things, and
+truth is a matter of infinite shadings and differentiations. Every one
+of us who were there had his own peculiar, interior, strictly personal
+life, which lay altogether outside of the world of regulations and our
+official superintendence.
+
+But, as I have said before, I could not penetrate the depths of this
+interior life in the early part of my prison career, for everything that
+met my eyes, or challenged my attention in any way, filled me with a
+sadness for which there are no words. Sometimes I felt nothing short of
+hatred for poor creatures whose martyrdom was at least as great as mine.
+In those first days I envied them, because they were among persons of
+their own sort, and understood one another; so I thought, but the truth
+was that their enforced companionship, the comradeship where the word of
+command went with the whip or the rod, was as much an object of aversion
+to them as it was to myself, and every one of them tried to keep himself
+as much to himself as possible. This envious hatred of them, which came
+to me in moments of irritation, was not without its reasonable cause,
+for those who tell you so confidently that a cultivated man of the
+higher class does not suffer as a mere peasant does, are utterly in the
+wrong. That is a thing I have often heard said, and read too. In the
+abstract, the notion seems correct, and it is founded in generous
+sentiment, for all convicts are human beings alike; but in reality it is
+different. In the real living facts of the problem there come in a
+quantity of practical complications, and only experience can pronounce
+upon these: experience which I have had. I do not mean to lay it down
+peremptorily, that the nobleman and the man of culture feel more
+acutely, sensitively, deeply, because of their more highly developed
+conditions of being. On the other hand, it is impossible to bring all
+souls to one common level or standard; neither the grade of education,
+nor any other thing, furnishes a standard according to which punishment
+can be meted out.
+
+It is a great satisfaction to me to be able to say that among these
+dreadful sufferers, in a state of things so barbarous and abject, I
+found abundant proof that the elements of moral development were not
+wanting. In our convict establishment there were men whom I was familiar
+with for several years, and whom I looked upon as wild beasts and
+abhorred as such; well, all of a sudden, when I least expected it, these
+very men would exhibit such an abundance of feeling of the best kind, so
+keen a comprehension of the sufferings of others, seen in the light of
+the consciousness of their own, that one might almost fancy scales had
+fallen from their eyes. So sudden was it as to cause stupefaction; one
+could scarcely believe one’s eyes or ears. Sometimes it was just the
+other way: educated men, well brought up, would occasionally display a
+savage, cynical brutality which nearly turned one’s stomach, conduct of
+a kind impossible to excuse or justify, however much you might be
+charitably inclined to do so.
+
+I lay no stress on the entire change in the habits of life, the food,
+etc., as to which there come in points where the man of the higher
+classes suffers so much more keenly than the peasant or working man, who
+often goes hungry when free, while he always has his stomach-full in
+prison. We will leave all that out. Let it be admitted that for a man
+with some force of character these external things are a trifle in
+comparison with privations of a quite different kind; for all that, such
+total change of material conditions and habits is neither an easy nor a
+slight thing. But in the convict’s _status_ there are elements of horror
+before which all other horrors pale, even the mud and filth everywhere
+about, the scantiness and uncleanness of the food, the irons on your
+limbs, the suffocating sense of being always held tight, as in a vice.
+
+The capital, the most important point of all is, that after a couple of
+hours or so, every new-comer to a convict establishment, who is of the
+lower class, shakes down into equality with the rest; he is _at home_
+among them, he has his “freedom” of this city of the enslaved, this
+community of convicted scoundrels, in which one man is superficially
+like every other man; he understands and is understood, he is looked
+upon by everybody as _one of themselves_. Now all this is _not_ so in
+the case of the nobleman. However kindly, just-minded, intelligent a man
+of the higher class may be, every soul there will hate and despise him
+during long years; they will neither understand nor believe in him, not
+one whit. He will be neither friend nor comrade in their eyes; if he
+can get them to stop insulting him it will be as much as he can do, but
+he will be alien to them from the first to the last, he will have to
+feel the grief of a ceaseless, hopeless, causeless solitude and
+sequestration. Sometimes it is the case that sheer ill-will on the part
+of the prisoners has nothing to do with bringing about this state of
+things, it simply cannot be helped; the nobleman is not one of the gang,
+and there’s the whole secret.
+
+There is nothing more horrible than to live out of the social sphere to
+which you properly belong. The peasant, transported from Taganrog to
+Petropavlosk, finds there Russian peasants like himself; between him and
+them there can be mutual intelligence; in an hour they will be friends,
+and live comfortably together in the same izba or the same barrack. With
+the nobleman it is wholly otherwise; a bottomless abyss separates him
+from the lower classes, _how_ deep and impassable is only seen when a
+nobleman forfeits his position and becomes as one of the populace
+himself. You may be your whole life in daily relations with the peasant,
+forty years you may do business with him regularly as the day comes--let
+us suppose it so, at all events--by the calls of official position or
+administrative duty; you may be his benefactor, all but a father to
+him--well, you’ll never know what is at the bottom of the man’s mind or
+heart. You may think you know something about him, but it is all optical
+illusion, nothing more. My readers will charge me with exaggeration, but
+I am convinced I am quite right. I don’t go on theory or book-reading in
+this; in my case the realities of life have given me only too ample time
+and opportunity for reviewing and correcting my theoretic convictions,
+which, as to this, are now fixed. Perhaps everybody will some day learn
+how well founded I am in what I say about this.
+
+All this was theory when I first went into the convict establishment,
+but events, and things observed, soon came to confirm me in such views,
+and what I experienced so affected my system as to undermine its
+health. During the first summer I wandered about the place, so far as I
+was free to move, a solitary, friendless man. My moral situation was
+such that I could not distinguish those among the convicts who, in the
+sequel, managed to care for me a little in spite of the distance that
+always remained between us. There _were_ there men of my own position,
+ex-nobles like myself, but their companionship was repugnant to me.
+
+Here is one of the incidents which obliged me to see at the outset, how
+solitary a creature I was, and all the strangeness of my position at the
+place. One day in August, a fine warm day, about one o’clock in the
+afternoon, a time when, as a rule, everybody took a nap before resuming
+work, the convicts rose as one man and massed themselves in the
+court-yard. I had not the slightest idea, up to that moment, that
+anything was going on. So deeply had I been sunk in my own thoughts,
+that I saw nearly nothing of what was happening about me of any kind.
+But it seems that the convicts had been in a smouldering sort of unusual
+agitation for three days. Perhaps it had begun sooner; so I thought
+later when I remembered stray remarks, bits of talk that had come to my
+ears, the palpable increase of ill-humour among the prisoners, their
+unusual irritability for some time past. I had attributed it all to the
+trying summer work, the insufferably long days; to their dreamings about
+the woods, and freedom, which the season brought up; to the nights too
+short for rest. It may be that all these things came together to form a
+mass of discontent, that only wanted a tolerably good reason for
+exploding; it was found in the food.
+
+For several days the convicts had not concealed their dissatisfaction
+with it in open talk in their barracks, and they showed it plainly when
+assembled for dinner or supper; one of the cooks had been changed, but,
+after a couple of days, the new comer was sent to the right-about, and
+the old one brought back. The restlessness and ill-humour were general;
+mischief was brewing.
+
+“Here are we slaving to death, and they give us nothing but filth to
+eat,” grumbled one in the kitchen.
+
+“If you don’t like it, why don’t you order jellies and blanc-mange?”
+said another.
+
+“Sour cabbage soup, why, that’s _good_. I delight in it; there’s nothing
+more juicy,” exclaimed a third.
+
+“Well, if they gave you nothing but beef, beef, beef, for ever and ever,
+would you like _that_?”
+
+“Yes, yes; they ought to give us meat,” said a fourth; “one’s almost
+killed at the workshops; and, by heaven! when one has got through with
+work there one’s hungry, hungry; and you don’t get anything to satisfy
+your hunger.”
+
+“It’s true, the victuals are simply damnable.”
+
+“He fills his pockets, don’t you fear!”
+
+“It isn’t your business.”
+
+“Whose business is it? My belly’s my own. If we were all to make a row
+about it together, you’d soon see.”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Haven’t we been beaten enough for complaining, dolt that you are?”
+
+“True enough! What’s done in a hurry is never well done. And how would
+you set about making a raid over it, tell me that?”
+
+“I’ll tell you, by God! If everybody will go, I’ll go too, for I’m just
+dying of hunger. It’s all very well for those who eat at a better table,
+apart, to keep quiet; but those who eat the regulation food----”
+
+“There’s a fellow with eyes that do their work, bursting with envy _he_
+is. Don’t his eyes glisten when he sees something that doesn’t belong to
+him?”
+
+“Well, pals, why don’t we make up our minds? Have we gone through
+enough? They flay us, the brigands! Let’s go at them.”
+
+“What’s the good? I tell you ye must chew what they give you, and stuff
+your mouth full of it. Look at the fellow, he wants people to chew his
+food for him. We’re in prison, and have got to stand it.”
+
+“Yes, that’s it; we’re in prison.”
+
+“That’s it always; the people die of hunger, and the Government fills
+its belly.”
+
+“That’s true. Our eight-eyes (_the Major_) has got finely fat over it;
+he’s bought a pair of gray horses.”
+
+“He don’t like his glass at all, that fellow,” said a convict
+ironically.
+
+“He had a bout at cards a little while ago with the vet; for two hours
+he played without a half-penny in his pocket. Fedka told me so.”
+
+“That’s why we get cabbage soup that’s fit for nothing.”
+
+“You’re all idiots! It doesn’t matter; _nothing_ matters.”
+
+“I tell you if we all join in complaining we shall see what he has to
+say for himself. Let’s make up our minds.”
+
+“_Say_ for himself? You’ll get his fist on your pate; that’s just all.”
+
+“I tell you they’ll have him up, and try him.”
+
+All the prisoners were in great agitation; the truth is, the food was
+execrable. The general anguish, suffering, and suspense seemed to be
+coming to a head. Convicts are, by disposition, or, as such, quarrelsome
+and rebellious; but a general revolt is rare, for they can never agree
+upon it; we all of us felt that since there was, as a rule, more violent
+talk than doing.
+
+This time, however, the agitation did not fall to the ground. The men
+gathered in groups in their barracks, talking things over in a violent
+way, and going over all the particulars of the Major’s misdoings, and
+trying to get to the bottom of them. In all affairs of that sort there
+are ringleaders and firebrands. The ringleaders on such occasions are
+generally rather remarkable fellows, not only in convict
+establishments, but among all large organisations of workmen, military
+detachments, etc. They are always people of a peculiar type,
+enthusiastic men, who have a thirst for justice, very naïve, simple, and
+strong, convinced that their desires are fully capable of realisation;
+they have as much sense as other people; some are of high intelligence;
+but they are too full of warmth and zeal to measure their acts. When you
+come across people who really do know how to direct the masses, and get
+what they want, you find a quite different sort of popular leaders, and
+one excessively rare among us Russians. The more usual type of leader,
+the one I first alluded to, does certainly in some sense accomplish
+their object, so far as bringing about a rising is concerned; but it all
+ends in filling up the prisons and convict establishments. Thanks to
+their impetuosity they always come off second-best; but it is this
+impetuosity that gives them their influences over the masses; their
+ardent, honest indignation does its work, and draws in the more
+irresolute. Their blind confidence of success seduces even the most
+hardened sceptics, although this confidence is generally based on such
+uncertain, childish reasons that it is wonderful how people can put
+faith in them.
+
+The secret of their influence is that they put themselves at the head,
+and _go_ ahead, without flinching. They dash forward, heads down, often
+without the least knowledge worth the name of what they are about, and
+have nothing about them of the jesuitical practical faculty by dint of
+which a vile and worthless man often hits his mark and comes uppermost,
+and will sometimes come all white out of a tub of ink. They _must_ dash
+their skulls against stone walls. Under ordinary circumstances these
+people are bilious, irascible, intolerant, contemptuous, often very
+warm, which really after all is part of the secret of their strength.
+The deplorable thing is that they never go at what is the essential, the
+vital part of their task, they always go off at once into details
+instead of going straight to their mark, and this is their ruin. But
+they and the mob understand one another; that makes them formidable.
+
+I must say a few words about this word “grievance.”
+
+
+Some of the convicts had been transported in connection with a
+“grievance;” these were the most excited among them, notably a certain
+Martinoff, who had formerly served in the Hussars, an eager, restless,
+and choleric, but a worthy and truthful, fellow. Another, Vassili
+Antonoff, could work himself up into anger coolly and collectedly; he
+had a generally impudent expression, and a sarcastic smile, but he, too,
+was honest, and a man of his word, and of no little education. I won’t
+enumerate; there were plenty of them. Petroff went about in a hurried
+way from one group to another. He spoke few words, but he was quite as
+highly excited as any one there, for he was the first to spring out of
+the barrack when the others massed themselves in the court-yard.
+
+Our sergeant, who acted as sergeant-major, came up very soon in quite a
+fright. The convicts got into rank, and politely begged him to tell the
+Major that they wanted to speak with him and put him a few questions.
+Behind the sergeant came all the invalids, who ranked themselves in face
+of the convicts. What they asked the sergeant to do frightened the man
+out of his wits almost, but he dared not refuse to go and report to the
+Major, for if the convicts mutinied, God only knows what might happen.
+All the men set over us showed themselves great poltroons in handling
+the prisoners; then, even if nothing further worse happened, if the
+convicts thought better of it and dispersed, the sub-officer was still
+in duty bound to inform the authorities of what had been going on. Pale,
+and trembling with fright, he went headlong to the Major, without even
+an effort to bring the convicts to reason. He saw that they were not
+minded to put up with any of his talk, no doubt.
+
+Without the least idea of what was going on, I went into rank myself
+(it was only later that I heard the earlier details of the story). I
+thought that the muster-roll was to be called, but I did not see the
+soldiers who verify the lists, so I was surprised, and began to look
+about me a little. The men’s faces were working with emotion, and some
+were ghostly pale. They were sternly silent, and seemed to be thinking
+of what they should say to the Major. I observed that many of the
+convicts seemed to wonder at seeing me among them, but they turned their
+glances away from me. No doubt they thought it strange that I should
+come into the ranks with them, and join in their remonstrances, and
+could not quite believe it. Then they turned round to me again in a
+questioning sort of way.
+
+“What are you doing here?” said Vassili Antonoff, in a loud, rude voice;
+he happened to be close to me, and a little way from the rest; the man
+had always hitherto been scrupulously polite to me.
+
+I looked at him in perplexity, trying to understand what he meant by it;
+I began to see that something extraordinary was up in our prison.
+
+“Yes, indeed, what are you about here? Go off into the barrack,” said a
+young fellow, a soldier-convict, whom I did not know till then, and who
+was a good, quiet lad, “this is none of _your_ business.”
+
+“Have we not fallen into rank,” I answered, “aren’t we going to be
+mustered?”
+
+“Why, _he’s_ come, too,” cried one of them.
+
+“Iron-nose,”[7] said another.
+
+“Fly-killer,” added a third, with inexpressible contempt for me in his
+tone. This new nickname caused a general burst of laughter.
+
+“These fellows are in clover everywhere. We are in prison, with hard
+labour, I rather fancy; they get wheat-bread and sucking-pig, like great
+lords as they are. Don’t you get your victuals by yourself? What are you
+doing here?”
+
+“Your place is not here,” said Koulikoff to me brusquely, taking me by
+the hand and leading me out of the ranks.
+
+He was himself very pale; his dark eyes sparkled with fire, he had
+bitten his under lip till the blood came; he wasn’t one of those who
+expected the Major without losing self-possession.
+
+I liked to look at Koulikoff when he was in trying circumstances like
+these; then he showed himself just what he was in his strong points and
+weak. He attitudinised, but he knew how to act, too. I think he would
+have gone to his death with a certain affected elegance. While everybody
+was insulting me in words and tones, his politeness was greater than
+ever; but he spoke in a firm and resolved tone which admitted of no
+reply.
+
+“We are here on business of our own, Alexander Petrovitch, and you’ve
+got to keep out of it. Go where you like and wait till it’s over ...
+here, your people are in the kitchens, go there.”
+
+“They’re in hot quarters down there.”
+
+I did in fact see our Poles at the open window of the kitchen, in
+company with a good many other convicts. I did not well know what to be
+at; but went there followed by laughter, insulting remarks, and that
+sort of muttered growling which is the prison substitute for the
+hissings and cat-calls of the world of freedom.
+
+“He doesn’t like it at all! Chu, chu, chu! Seize him!”
+
+I had never been so bitterly insulted since I was in the place. It was a
+very painful moment, but just what was to be expected in the excessive
+excitement the men were labouring under. In the ante-room I met T--vski,
+a young nobleman of not much information, but of firm, generous
+character; the convicts excepted him from the hatred they felt for the
+convicts of noble birth; they were almost fond of him; every one of his
+gestures denoted the brave and energetic man.
+
+“What are you about, Goriantchikoff?” he cried to me; “come here, come
+here!”
+
+“But what is _it_ all about?”
+
+“They are going to make a formal complaint, don’t you know it? It won’t
+do them a bit of good; who’ll pay any attention to convicts? They’ll try
+to find out the ringleaders, and if we are among them they’ll lay it all
+on us. Just remember what we have been transported for. They’ll only get
+a whipping, but we shall be put regularly to trial. The Major detests us
+all, and will be only too happy to ruin us; all his sins will fall on
+our shoulders.”
+
+“The convicts would tie us hands and feet and sell us directly,” added
+M--tski, when we got into the kitchen.
+
+“They’ll never have mercy on _us_,” added T--vski.
+
+Besides the nobles there were in the kitchen about thirty other
+prisoners who did not want to join in the general complaints, some
+because they were afraid, others because of their conviction that the
+whole proceeding would prove quite useless. Akim Akimitch, who was a
+decided opponent of everything that savoured of complaint, or that could
+interfere with discipline and the usual routine, waited with great
+phlegm to see the end of the business, about which he did not care a
+jot. He was perfectly convinced that the authorities would put it all
+down immediately.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch’s nose drooped visibly as he listened in a sort of
+frightened curiosity to what we said about the affair; he was much
+disturbed. With the Polish nobles were some inferior persons of the same
+nation, as well as some Russians, timid, dull, silent fellows, who had
+not dared to join the rest, and who waited in a melancholy way to see
+what the issue would be. There were also some morose, discontented
+convicts, who remained in the kitchen, not because they were afraid, but
+that they thought this half-revolt an absurdity which could not
+succeed; it seemed to me that these were not a little disturbed, and
+their faces were quite unsteady. They saw clearly that they were in the
+right, and that the issue of the movement would be what they had
+foretold, but they had a sort of feeling that they were traitors who had
+sold their comrades to the Major. Jolkin--the long-headed Siberian
+peasant sent to hard labour for coining, the man who got Koulikoff’s
+town practice from him--was there also, as well as the old man of
+Starodoub. None of the cooks had left their post, perhaps because they
+looked upon themselves as belonging specially to the authorities of the
+place, whom it would be unbecoming, therefore, to join in opposing.
+
+“For all that,” said I to M--tski, “except these fellows, all the
+convicts are in it,” and no doubt I said it in a way that showed
+misgivings.
+
+“I wonder what in the world _we_ have to do with it?” growled B----.
+
+“We should have risked a good deal more than they had we gone with them;
+and why? _Je hais ces brigands._[8] Why, do you think that they’ll bring
+themselves up to the scratch after all? I can’t see what they want
+putting their heads in the lion’s mouth, the fools.”
+
+“It’ll all come to nothing,” said some one, an obstinate, sour-tempered
+old fellow. Almazoff, who was with us too, agreed heartily in this.
+
+“Some fifty of them will get a good beating, and that’s all the good
+they’ll all get out of it.”
+
+“Here’s the Major!” cried one; everybody ran to the windows.
+
+The Major had come up, spectacles and all, looking as wicked as might
+be, towering with passion, red as a turkey-cock. He came on without a
+word, and in a determined manner, right up to the line of the convicts.
+In conjunctures of this sort he showed uncommon pluck and presence of
+mind; but it ought not to be overlooked that he was nearly always
+half-seas over. Just then his greasy cap, with its yellow border, and
+his tarnished silver epaulettes, gave him a Mephistophelic look in my
+excited fancy. Behind him came the quartermaster, Diatloff, who was
+quite a personage in the establishment, for he was really at the bottom
+of all the authorities did. He was an exceedingly capable and cunning
+fellow, and wielded great influence with the Major. He was not by any
+means a bad sort of man, and the convicts were, in a general way, not
+ill-inclined towards him. Our sergeant followed him with three or four
+soldiers, no more; he had already had a tremendous wigging, and there
+was plenty more of the same to come, if he knew it. The convicts, who
+had remained uncovered, cap in hand, from the moment they sent for the
+Major, stiffened themselves, every man shifting his weight to the other
+leg; then they remained motionless, and waited for the first word, or
+the first shout rather, to come from him.
+
+They had not long to wait. Before he had got more than one word out, the
+Major began to shout at the top of his voice; he was beside himself with
+rage. We saw him from the windows running all along the line of
+convicts, dashing at them here and there with angry questions. As we
+were a pretty good distance off, we could not hear what he said or their
+replies. We only heard his shouts, or rather what seemed shouting,
+groaning, and grunting beautifully mingled.
+
+“Scoundrels! mutineers! to the cat with ye! Whips and sticks! The
+ringleaders? _You’re_ one of the ringleaders!” throwing himself on one
+of them.
+
+We did not hear the answer; but a minute after we saw this convict leave
+the ranks and make for the guard-house.
+
+Another followed, then a third.
+
+“I’ll have you up, every man of you. I’ll---- Who’s in the kitchen
+there?” he bawled, as he saw us at the open windows. “Here with all of
+you! Drive ’em all out, every man!”
+
+Diatloff, the quartermaster, came towards the kitchens. When we had
+told him that _we_ were not complaining of any grievance, he returned,
+and reported to the Major at once.
+
+“Ah, those fellows are not in it,” said he, lowering his tone a bit, and
+much pleased. “Never mind, bring them along here.”
+
+We left the kitchen. I could not help feeling humiliation; all of us
+went along with our heads down.
+
+“Ah, Prokofief! Jolkin too; and you, Almazof! Here, come here, all the
+lump of you!” cried the Major to us, with a gasp; but he was somewhat
+softened, his tone was even obliging. “M--tski, you’re here too?... Take
+down the names. Diatloff, take down all the names, the grumblers in one
+list and the contented ones in another--all, without exception; you’ll
+give me the list. I’ll have you all before the Committee of
+Superintendence.... I’ll ... brigands!”
+
+This word “_list_” told.
+
+“We’ve nothing to complain of!” cried one of the malcontents, in a
+half-strangled sort of voice.
+
+“Ah, you’ve nothing to complain of! _Who’s_ that? Let all those who have
+nothing to complain of step out of the ranks.”
+
+“All of us, all of us!” came from some others.
+
+“Ah, the food is all right, then? You’ve been put up to it. Ringleaders,
+mutineers, eh? So much the worse for them.”
+
+“But, what do you mean by that?” came from a voice in the crowd.
+
+“Where is the fellow that said that?” roared the Major, throwing himself
+to where the voice came from. “It was you, Rastorgouïef, you; to the
+guard-house with you.”
+
+Rastorgouïef, a young, chubby fellow of high stature, left the ranks and
+went with slow steps to the guard-house. It was not he who had said it,
+but, as he was called out, he did not venture to contradict.
+
+“You fellows are too fat, that’s what makes you unruly!” shouted the
+Major. “You wait, you hulking rascal, in three days you’d---- Wait! I’ll
+have it out with you all. Let all those who have nothing to complain of
+come out of the ranks, I say----”
+
+“We’re not complaining of anything, your worship,” said some of the
+convicts with a sombre air; the rest preserved an obstinate silence. But
+the Major wanted nothing further; it was his interest to stop the thing
+with as little friction as might be.
+
+“Ah, _now_ I see! _Nobody_ has anything to complain of,” said he. “I
+knew it, I saw it all. It’s ringleaders, there are ringleaders, by God,”
+he went on, speaking to Diatloff. “We must lay our hands on them, every
+man of them. And now--now--it’s time to go to your work. Drummer, there;
+drummer, a roll!”
+
+He told them off himself in small detachments. The convicts dispersed
+sadly and silently, only too glad to get out of his sight. Immediately
+after the gangs went off, the Major betook himself to the guard-house,
+where he began to make his dispositions as to the “ringleaders,” but he
+did not push matters far. It was easy to see that he wanted to be done
+with the whole business as soon as possible. One of the men charged told
+us later that he had begged for forgiveness, and that the officer had
+let him go immediately. There can be no doubt that our Major did not
+feel firm in the saddle; he had had a fright, I fancy, for a mutiny is
+always a ticklish thing, and although this complaint of the convicts
+about the food did not amount really to mutiny (only the Major had been
+reported to about it, and the Governor himself), yet it was an
+uncomfortable and dangerous affair. What gave him most anxiety was that
+the prisoners had been unanimous in their movement, so their discontent
+had to be got over somehow, at any price. The ringleaders were soon set
+free. Next day the food was passable, but this improvement did not last
+long; on the days ensuing the disturbance, the Major went about the
+prison much more than usual, and always found something irregular to be
+stopped and punished. Our sergeant came and went in a puzzled, dazed
+sort of way, as if he could not get over his stupefaction at what had
+happened. As to the convicts, it took long for them to quiet down again,
+but their agitation seemed to wear quite a different character; they
+were restless and perplexed. Some went about with their heads down,
+without saying a word; others discussed the event in a grumbling,
+helpless kind of way. A good many said biting things about their own
+proceedings as though they were quite out of conceit with themselves.
+
+“I say, pal, take and eat!” said one.
+
+“Where’s the mouse that was so ready to bell the cat?”
+
+“Let’s think ourselves lucky that he did not have us all well beaten.”
+
+“It would be a good deal better if you thought more and chattered less.”
+
+“What do _you_ mean by lecturing me? Are you schoolmaster here, I’d like
+to know?”
+
+“Oh, you want putting to the right-about.”
+
+“Who are you, I’d like to know?”
+
+“I’m a man! What are you?”
+
+“A man! You’re----”
+
+“You’re----”
+
+“I say! Shut up, do! What’s the good of all this row?” was the cry from
+all sides.
+
+On the evening of the day the “mutiny” took place, I met Petroff behind
+the barracks after the day’s work. He was looking for me. As he came
+near me, I heard him exclaim something, which I didn’t understand, in a
+muttering sort of way; then he said no more, and walked by my side in a
+listless, mechanical fashion.
+
+“I say, Petroff, your fellows are not vexed with us, are they?”
+
+“Who’s vexed?” he asked, as if coming to himself.
+
+“The convicts with us--with us nobles.”
+
+“Why should they be vexed?”
+
+“Well, because we did not back them up.”
+
+“Oh, why should you have kicked up a dust?” he answered, as if trying to
+enter into my meaning: “you have a table to yourselves, you fellows.”
+
+“Oh, well, there are some of you, not nobles, who don’t eat the
+regulation food, and who went in with you. We ought to back you up,
+we’re in the same place; we ought to be comrades.”
+
+“Oh, I _say_. Are you our comrades?” he asked, with unfeigned
+astonishment.
+
+I looked at him; it was clear that he had not the least comprehension of
+my meaning; but I, on the other hand, entered only too thoroughly into
+his. I saw now, quite thoroughly, something of which I had before only a
+confused idea; what I had before guessed at was now sad certainty.
+
+It was forced on my perceptions that any sort of real fellowship between
+the convicts and myself could never be; not even were I to remain in the
+place as long as life should last. I was a convict of the “special
+section,” a creature for ever apart. The expression of Petroff when he
+said, “are we comrades, how can that be?” remains, and will always
+remain before my eyes. There was a look of such frank, naïve surprise in
+it, such ingenuous astonishment that I could not help asking myself if
+there was not some lurking irony in the man, just a little spiteful
+mockery. Not at all, it was simply meant. I was not their comrade, and
+could not be; that was all. Go you to the right, we’ll go to the left!
+your business is yours, ours is ours.
+
+I really fancied that, after the mutiny, they would attack us
+mercilessly so far as they dared and could, and that our life would
+become a hell. But nothing of the sort happened; we did not hear the
+slightest reproach, there was not even an unpleasant allusion to what
+had happened, it was all simply passed over. They went on teasing us as
+before when opportunity served, no more. Nobody seemed to bear malice
+against those who would not join in, but remained in the kitchens, or
+against those who were the first to cry out that they had nothing to
+complain of. It was all passed over without a word, to my exceeding
+astonishment.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[7] An insulting phrase which is untranslatable.
+
+[8] French in the original Russian.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+MY COMPANIONS
+
+
+As will be understood, those to whom I was most drawn were people of my
+own sort, that is, those of “noble” birth, especially in the early days;
+but of the three ex-nobles in the place, who were Russians, I knew and
+spoke to but one, Akim Akimitch; the other two were the spy A--v, and
+the supposed parricide. Even with Akim I never exchanged a word except
+when in extremity, in moments when the melancholy on me was simply
+unendurable, and when I thought I really never should have the chance of
+getting close to any other human being again.
+
+In the last chapter I have tried to show that the convicts were of
+different types, and tried to classify them; but when I think of Akim
+Akimitch I don’t know how to place him, he was quite _sui generis_, so
+far as I could observe, in that establishment.
+
+There may be, elsewhere, men like him, to whom it seemed as absolutely a
+matter of indifference whether he was a free man, or in jail at hard
+labour; at that place he stood alone in this curious impartiality of
+temperament. He had settled down in the jail as if he was going to pass
+his whole life, and didn’t mind it at all. All his belongings, mattress,
+cushions, utensils, were so ordered as to give the impression that he
+was living in a furnished house of his own; there was nothing
+provisional, temporary, bivouac-like, about him, or his words, or his
+habits. He had a good many years still to spend in punishment, but I
+much doubt whether he ever gave a thought to the time when he would get
+out. He was entirely reconciled to his condition, not because he had
+made any effort to be so, but simply out of natural submissiveness; but,
+as far as his comfort went, it came to the same thing. He was not at all
+a bad fellow, and in the early days his advice and help were quite
+useful to me; but sometimes, I can’t help saying it, his peculiarities
+deepened my natural melancholy until it became almost intolerable
+anguish.
+
+When I became desperate with silence and solitude of soul, I would get
+into talk with him; I wanted to hear, and reply to _some_ words falling
+from a living soul, and the more filled with gall and hatred with all
+our surroundings they had been, the more would they have been in
+sympathy with my wretched mood; but he would just barely talk, quietly
+go on sizing his lanterns, and then begin to tell me some story as to
+how he had been at a review of troops in 18--, that their general of
+division was so-and-so, that the manœuvring had been very pretty, that
+there had been a change in the skirmisher’s system of signalling, and
+the like; all of it in level imperturbable tones, like water falling
+drop by drop. He did not put any life into them even when he told me of
+a sharp affair in which he had been, in the Caucasus, for which his
+sword had got the decoration of the Riband of St. Anne. The only
+difference was, that his voice became a little more measured and grave;
+he lowered his tones when he pronounced the name “St. Anne,” as though
+he were telling a great secret, and then, for three minutes at least,
+did not utter a word, but only looked solemn.
+
+During all that first year I had strange passages of feeling, in which I
+hated Akim Akimitch with a bitter hatred, I am sure I cannot say why,
+moments when I would despairingly curse the fate which made him my next
+neighbour on my camp-bed, so close indeed that our heads nearly touched.
+An hour afterwards I bitterly reproached myself for such extravagance.
+It was, however, only during my first year of confinement that these
+violent feelings overpowered me. As time went on, I got used to Akim
+Akimitch’s singular character, and was ashamed of my former explosions.
+I don’t remember that he and I ever got into anything like an open
+quarrel.
+
+Besides the three Russian nobles of whom I have spoken, there were eight
+others there during my time; with some of whom I came to be on a footing
+of intimate friendship. Even the best of them were morbid in mind,
+exclusive, and intolerant to the very last degree; with two of them I
+was obliged to discontinue all spoken intercourse. There were only three
+who had any education, B--ski, M--tski, and the old man, J--ski, who had
+formerly been a professor of mathematics, an excellent fellow, highly
+eccentric, and of very narrow mental horizon in spite of his learning.
+M--tski and B--ski were of a mould quite different from his. Between
+M--tski and myself there was an excellent understanding from the first
+set-off. He and I never once got into any sort of dispute; I respected
+him highly, but could never become sincerely attached to him, though I
+tried to. He was sour, embittered, and mistrustful, with much
+self-control; this was quite antipathetic to me; the man had a closed
+soul, closed to everybody, and he made you feel it. I felt it so
+strongly that perhaps I was wrong about it. After all, his character, I
+must say, was stamped with both nobleness and strength. His inveterate
+scepticism made him very prudent in his relations with everybody about
+him, and in conducting these he gave proof of remarkable tact and skill.
+Sceptic as he was, there was another and a reverse side in his nature,
+for in some things he was a profound and unalterable believer with faith
+and hope unshakable. In spite of his tact in dealing with men, he got
+into open hostilities with B--ski and his friend T--ski.
+
+The first of these, B--ski, was a man of infirm health, of consumptive
+tendency, irascible, and of a weak, nervous system; but a good and
+generous man. His nervous irritability went so far that he was as
+capricious as a child; a temperament of that kind was too much for me
+there, so I soon saw as little of B--ski as I could possibly help,
+though I never ceased to like him much. It was just the other way so far
+as M--tski was concerned; with him I always was on easy terms, though I
+did not like him at all. When I edged away from B--ski, I had to break
+also, more or less, with T--ski, of whom I spoke in the last chapter,
+which I much regretted, for, though of little education, he had an
+excellent heart; a worthy, very spiritual man. He loved and respected
+B--ski so much that those who broke with that friend of his he regarded
+as his personal enemies. He quarrelled with M--tski on account of
+B--ski, and they kept up the difference a long while. All these people
+were as bilious as they could be, humoursome, mistrustful, the victims
+of a moral and physical supersensitiveness. It is not to be wondered at;
+their position was trying indeed, much more so than ours; they were all
+exiled, transported, for ten or twelve years; and what made their
+sojourn in the prison most distressing to them was their rooted,
+ingrained prejudice, especially their unfortunate way of regarding the
+convicts, which they could not get over; in their eyes the unhappy
+fellows were mere wild beasts, without a single recognisable human
+quality. Everything in their previous career and their present
+circumstances combined to produce this unhappy feeling in them.
+
+Their life at the jail was perpetual torment to them. They were kindly
+and conversible with the Circassians, with the Tartars, with Isaiah
+Fomitch; but for the other prisoners they had nothing but contempt and
+aversion. The only one they had any real respect for was the aged “old
+believer.” For all this, during all the time I spent at the convict
+establishment, I never knew a single prisoner to reproach them with
+either their birth, or religious opinions, or convictions, as is so
+usual with our common people in their relations with people of different
+condition, especially if these happen to be foreigners. The fact is,
+they cannot take the foreigner seriously; to the Russian common people
+he seems a merely grotesque, comical creature. Our convicts had and
+showed much more respect for the Polish nobles than for us Russians, but
+I don’t think the Poles cared about the matter, or took any notice of
+the difference.
+
+I spoke just now of T--ski, and have something more to say of him. When
+he had with his friend to leave the first place assigned to them as
+residence in their banishment to come to our fortress, he carried his
+friend B---- nearly the whole way. B---- was of quite a weak frame, and
+in bad health, and became exhausted before half of the first march was
+accomplished. They had first been banished to Y--gorsk, where they lived
+in tolerable comfort; life was much less hard there than in our
+fortress. But in consequence of a correspondence with the exiles in one
+of the other towns--a quite innocent exchange of letters--it was thought
+necessary to remove them to our jail to be under the more direct
+surveillance of the government. Until they came M--tski had been quite
+alone, and dreadful must have been his sufferings in that first year of
+his banishment.
+
+J--ski was the old man always deep in prayer, of whom I spoke a little
+earlier. All the political convicts were quite young men while J--ski
+was at least fifty years old. He was a worthy, gentlemanlike person, if
+eccentric. T--ski and B--ski detested him, and never spoke to him; they
+insisted upon it that he was too obstinate and troublesome to put up
+with, and I was obliged to admit it was so. I believe that at a convict
+establishment--as in every place where people have to be together,
+whether they like it or not--people are more ready to quarrel with and
+detest one another than under other circumstances. Many causes
+contributed to the squabbles that were, unfortunately, always going on.
+J--ski was really disagreeable and narrow-minded; not one of those about
+him was on good terms with him. He and I did not come to a rupture, but
+we were never on a really friendly footing. I fancy that he was a strong
+mathematician. One day he explained to me in his half-Russian,
+half-Polish jargon, a system of astronomy of his own; I have been told
+that he had written a work upon the subject which the learned world had
+received with derision; I fancy his reasonings on some things had got
+twisted. He used to be on his knees praying for a whole day sometimes,
+which made the convicts respect him exceedingly during the remnant of
+life he had to pass there; he died under my eyes at the jail after a
+very trying illness. He had won the consideration of the prisoners, from
+the first moment of his coming in, on account of what had happened with
+the Major and him. When they were brought afoot from Y--gorsk to our
+fortress, they were not shaved on the road at all, their hair and beards
+had grown to great lengths when they were brought before the Major. That
+worthy foamed like a madman; he was wild with indignation at such
+infraction of discipline, though it was none of their fault.
+
+“My God! did you ever see anything like it?” he roared; “they are
+vagabonds, brigands.”
+
+J--ski knew very little Russian, and fancied that he was asking them if
+they were brigands or vagabonds, so he answered:
+
+“We are political prisoners, not rogues and vagabonds.”
+
+“So-o-o! You mean impudence! Clod!” howled the Major. “To the
+guard-house with him; a hundred strokes of the rod at once, this
+instant, I say!”
+
+They gave the old man the punishment; he lay flat on the ground under
+the strokes without the slightest resistance, kept his hand in his
+teeth, and bore it all without a murmur, and without moving a muscle.
+B--ski and T--ski arrived at the jail as this was all going on, and
+M--ski was waiting for them at the principal gate, knowing that they
+were just coming in; he threw himself on their neck, although he had
+never seen them before. Utterly disgusted at the way the Major had
+received them, they told M--ski all about the cruel business that had
+just occurred. M--ski told me later that he was quite beside himself
+with rage when he heard it.
+
+“I could not contain myself for passion,” he said, “I shook as though
+with ague. I waited for J--ski at the great gate, for he would come
+straight that way from the guard-house after his punishment. The gate
+was opened, and there I saw pass before me J--ski, his lips all white
+and trembling, his face pale as death; he did not look at a single
+person, and passed through the groups of convicts assembled in the
+court-yard--they knew a noble had just been subjected to
+punishment--went into the barrack, went straight to his place, and,
+without a word, dropped down on his knees for prayer. The prisoners were
+surprised and even affected. When I saw this old man with white hairs,
+who had left behind him at home a wife and children, kneeling and
+praying after that scandalous treatment, I rushed away from the barrack,
+and for a couple of hours felt as if I had gone stark, staring, raving
+mad, or blind drunk.... From that first moment the convicts were full of
+deference and consideration for J--ski; what particularly pleased them,
+was that he did not utter a cry when undergoing the punishment.”
+
+But one must be fair and tell the truth about this sort of thing; this
+sad story is not an instance of what frequently occurs in the treatment
+by the authorities of transported noblemen, Russian or Polish; and this
+isolated case affords no basis for passing judgment upon that treatment.
+My anecdote merely shows that you may light upon a bad man anywhere and
+everywhere. And if it happen that such a one is in absolute command of a
+jail, and if he happen to have a grudge against one of the prisoners,
+the lot of such a one will be indeed very far from enviable. But the
+administrative chiefs who regulate and supervise convict labour in
+Siberia, and from whom subordinates take their tone as well as their
+orders, are careful to exercise a discriminating treatment in the case
+of persons of noble birth, and, in some cases, grant them special
+indulgences as compared with the lot of convicts of lower condition.
+There are obvious reasons for this; these heads of departments are
+nobles themselves, they know that men of that class must not be driven
+to extremity; cases have been known where nobles have refused to submit
+to corporal punishment, and flung themselves desperately on their
+tormentors with very grave and serious consequences indeed;
+moreover--and this, I think, is the leading cause of the good
+treatment--some time ago, thirty-five years at least, there were
+transported to Siberia quite a crowd of noblemen;[9] these were of such
+correct and irreproachable demeanour, and held themselves so high, that
+the heads of departments fell into the way, which they never afterwards
+left, of regarding criminals of noble birth and ordinary convicts in
+quite a different manner; and men in lower place took their cue from
+them.
+
+Many of these, no doubt, were little pleased with that disposition in
+their superiors; such persons were pleased enough when they could do
+exactly as they liked in the matter, but this did not often happen, they
+were kept well within bounds; I have reason to be satisfied of this and
+I will say why. I was put in the second category, a classification of
+those condemned to hard labour, which was primarily and principally
+composed of convicts who had been serfs, under military superintendence;
+now this second category, or class, was much harder than the first (of
+the mines) or the third (manufacturing work). It was harder, not only
+for the nobles but for the other convicts too, because the governing and
+administrative methods and _personnel_ in it were wholly military, and
+were pretty much the same in type as those of the convict establishments
+in Russia. The men in official position were severer, the general
+treatment more rigorous than in the two other classes; the men were
+never out of irons, an escort of soldiers was always present, you were
+always, or nearly so, within stone walls; and things were quite
+different in the other classes, at least so the convicts said, and there
+were those among them who had every reason to know. They would all have
+gladly gone off to the mines, which the law classified as the worst and
+last punishment, it was their constant dream and desire to do so. All
+those who had been in the Russian convict establishments spoke with
+horror of them, and declared that there was no hell like them, that
+Siberia was a paradise compared with confinement in the fortresses in
+Russia.
+
+If, then, it is the case that we nobles were treated with special
+consideration in the establishment I was confined in, which was under
+direct control of the Governor-General, and administered entirely on
+military principles, there must have been some greater kindliness in the
+treatment of the convicts of the first and third category or class. I
+think I can speak with some authority about what went on throughout
+Siberia in these respects, and I based my views, as to this, upon all
+that I heard from convicts of these classes. We, in our prison, were
+under much more rigorous surveillance than was elsewhere practised; we
+were favoured with no sort of exemptions from the ordinary rules as
+regards work and confinement, and the wearing of chains; we could not do
+anything for ourselves to get immunity from the rules, for I, at least,
+knew quite well that, _in the good old time which was quite of
+yesterday_, there had been so much intriguing to undermine the credit of
+officials that the authorities were greatly afraid of informers, and
+that, as things stood, to show indulgence to a convict was regarded as a
+crime. Everybody, therefore, authorities and convicts alike, was in fear
+of what might happen; we of the nobles were thus quite down to the level
+of the other convicts; the only point we were favoured in was in regard
+to corporal punishment--but I think that we should have had even that
+inflicted on us had we done anything for which it was prescribed, for
+equality as to punishment was strictly enjoined or practised; what I
+mean is, that we were not wantonly, causelessly, mishandled like the
+other prisoners.
+
+When the Governor got to know of the punishment inflicted on J--ski, he
+was seriously angry with the Major, and ordered him to be more careful
+for the future. The thing got very generally known. We learned also that
+the Governor-General, who had great confidence in our Major, and who
+liked him because of his exact observance of legal bounds, and thought
+highly of his qualities in the service, gave him a sharp scolding. And
+our Major took the lesson to heart. I have no doubt it was this
+prevented his having M--ski beaten, which he would much have liked to
+do, being much influenced by the slanderous things A--f said about
+M----; but the Major could never get a fair pretext for doing so,
+however much he persecuted and set spies upon his proposed victim; so he
+had to deny himself that pleasure. The J--ski affair became known all
+through the town, and public opinion condemned the Major; some persons
+reproached him openly for what he had done, and some even insulted him.
+
+The first occasion on which the man crossed my path may as well be
+mentioned. We had alarming things reported to us--to me and another
+nobleman under sentence--about the abominable character of this man,
+while we were still at Tobolsk. Men who had been sentenced a long while
+back to twenty-five years of the misery, nobles as we were, and who had
+visited us so kindly during our provisional sojourn in the first
+prison, had warned us what sort of man we were to be under; they had
+also promised to do all they could for us with their friends to see that
+he hurt us as little as possible. And, in fact, they did write to the
+three daughters of the Governor-General, who, I believe, interceded on
+our behalf with their father. But what could he do? No more, of course,
+than tell the Major to be fair in applying the rules and regulations to
+our case. It was about three in the afternoon that my companion and
+myself arrived in the town; our escort took us at once to our tyrant. We
+remained waiting for him in the ante-chamber while they went to find the
+next-in-command at the prison. As soon as the latter had come, in walked
+the Major. We saw an inflamed scarlet face that boded no good, and
+affected us quite painfully; he seemed like a sort of spider about to
+throw itself on a poor fly wriggling in its web.
+
+“What’s your name, man?” said he to my companion. He spoke with a harsh,
+jerky voice, as if he wanted to overawe us.
+
+My friend gave his name.
+
+“And you?” said he, turning to me and glaring at me behind his
+spectacles.
+
+I gave mine.
+
+“Sergeant! take ’em to the prison, and let ’em be shaved at the
+guard-house, civilian-fashion, hair off half their skulls, and let ’em
+be put in irons to-morrow. Why, what sort of cloaks have you got there?”
+said he brutally, when he saw the gray cloaks with yellow sewn at the
+back which they had given to us at Tobolsk. “Why, that’s a new uniform,
+begad--a new uniform! They’re always getting up something or other.
+That’s a Petersburg trick,” he said, as he inspected us one after the
+other. “Got anything with them?” he said abruptly to the gendarme who
+escorted us.
+
+“They’ve got their own clothes, your worship,” replied he; and the man
+carried arms, just as if on parade, not without a nervous tremor.
+Everybody knew the fellow, and was afraid of him.
+
+“Take their clothes away from them. They can’t keep anything but their
+linen, their white things; take away all their coloured things if
+they’ve got any, and sell them off at the next sale, and put the money
+to the prison account. A convict has no property,” said he, looking
+severely at us. “Hark ye! Behave prettily; don’t let me have any
+complaining. If I do--cat-o’-nine-tails! The smallest offence, and to
+the sticks you go!”
+
+This way of receiving me, so different from anything I had ever known,
+made me nearly ill that night. It was a frightful thing to happen at the
+very moment of entering the infernal place. But I have already told that
+part of my story.
+
+Thus we had no sort of exemption or immunity from any of the miseries
+inflicted there, no lightening of our labours when with the other
+convicts; but friends tried to help us by getting us sent for three
+months, B--ski and me, to the bureau of the Engineers, to do copying
+work. This was done quietly, and as much as possible kept from being
+talked about or observed. This piece of kindness was done for us by the
+head engineers, during the short time that Lieutenant-Colonel G--kof was
+Governor at our prison. This gentleman had command there only for six
+short months, for he soon went back to Russia. He really seemed to us
+all like an angel of goodness sent from heaven, and the feeling for him
+among the convicts was of the strongest kind; it was not mere love, it
+was something like adoration. I cannot help saying so. How he did it I
+don’t know, but their hearts went out to him from the moment they first
+set eyes on him.
+
+“He’s more like a father than anything else,” the prisoners kept
+continually saying during all the time he was there at the head of the
+engineering department. He was a brilliant, joyous fellow. He was of low
+stature, with a bold, confident expression, and he was all gracious
+kindness to the convicts, for whom he really did seem to entertain a
+fatherly sort of affection. How was it he was so fond of them? It is
+hard to say, but he seemed never to be able to pass a prisoner without a
+bit of pleasant talk and a little laughing and joking together. There
+was nothing that smacked of authority in his pleasantries, nothing that
+reminded them of his position over them. He behaved just as if he was
+one of themselves. In spite of this kind condescension, I don’t remember
+any one of the convicts ever failing in respect to him or taking the
+slightest liberty--quite the other way. The convict’s face would light
+up in a wonderful, sudden way when he met the Governor; it was odd to
+see how the face smiled all over, and the hand went to the cap, when the
+Governor was seen in the distance making for the poor man. A word from
+him was regarded as a signal honour. There are some people like that,
+who know how to win all hearts.
+
+G--kof had a bold, jaunty air, walked with long strides, holding himself
+very straight; “a regular eagle,” the convicts used to call him. He
+could not do much to lighten their lot materially, for his office was
+that of superintending the engineering work, which had to be done in
+ways and quantities, settled absolutely and unalterably by the
+regulations. But if he happened to come across a gang of convicts who
+had actually got through their work, he allowed them to go back to
+quarters before beat of drum, without waiting for the regulation moment.
+The prisoners loved him for the confidence he showed in them, and
+because of his aversion for all mean, trifling interferences with them,
+which are so irritating when prison superiors are addicted to that sort
+of thing. I am absolutely certain that if he had lost a thousand roubles
+in notes, there was not a thief in the prison, however hardened, who
+would not have brought them to him, if the man lit on them. I am sure of
+it.
+
+How the prisoners all felt for him, and with him when they learned that
+he was at daggers drawn with our detested Major. That came about a
+month after his arrival. Their delight knew no bounds. The Major had
+formerly served with him in the same detachment; so, when they met,
+after a long separation, they were at first boon companions, but the
+intimacy could not and did not last. They came to
+blows--figuratively--and G--kof became the Major’s sworn enemy. Some
+would have it that it was _more_ than figuratively, that they came to
+actual fisticuffs, a likely thing enough as far as the Major was
+concerned, for the man had no objection to a scrimmage.
+
+When the convicts heard of the quarrel they really could not contain
+their delight.
+
+“Old Eight-eyes and the Commandant get on finely together! _He’s_ an
+eagle; but the other’s a _bad ’un_!”
+
+Those who believed in the fight were mighty curious to know which of the
+two had had the worst of it, and got a good drubbing. If it had been
+proved there had been no fighting our convicts, I think, would have been
+bitterly disappointed.
+
+“The Commandant gave him fits, you may bet your life on it,” said they;
+“he’s a little ’un, but as bold as a lion; the other one got into a blue
+funk, and hid under the bed from him.”
+
+But G--kof went away only too soon, and keenly was he regretted in the
+prison.
+
+Our engineers were all most excellent fellows; we had three or four
+fresh batches of them while I was there.
+
+“Our eagles never remain very long with us,” said the prisoners;
+“especially when they are good and kind fellows.”
+
+It was this G--kof who sent B--ski and myself to work in his bureau, for
+he was partial to exiled nobles. When he left, our condition was still
+fairly endurable, for there was another engineer there who showed us
+much sympathy and friendship. We copied reports for some time, and our
+handwriting was getting to be very good, when an order came from the
+authorities that we were to be sent back to hard labour as before; some
+spiteful person had been at work. At bottom we were rather pleased, for
+we were quite tired of copying.
+
+For two whole years I worked in company with B--ski, all the time in the
+shops, and many a gossip did we have about our hopes for the future and
+our notions and convictions. Good B--ski had a very odd mind, which
+worked in a strange, exceptional way. There are some people of great
+intelligence who indulge in paradox unconscionably; but when they have
+undergone great and constant sufferings for their ideas and made great
+sacrifices for them, you can’t drive their notions out of their heads,
+and it is cruel to try it. When you objected something to B--ski’s
+propositions, he was really hurt, and gave you a violent answer. He was,
+perhaps, more in the right than I was as to some things wherein we
+differed, but we were obliged to give one another up, very much to my
+regret, for we had many thoughts in common.
+
+As years went on M--tski became more and more sombre and melancholy; he
+became a prey to despair. During the earliest part of my imprisonment he
+was communicative enough, and let us see what was going on in him. When
+I arrived at the prison he had just finished his second year. At first
+he took a lively interest in the news I brought, for he knew nothing of
+what had been going on in the outer world; he put questions to me,
+listened eagerly, showed emotion, but, bit by bit, his reserve grew on
+him and there was no getting at his thoughts. The glowing coals were all
+covered up with ashes. Yet it was plain that his temper grew sourer and
+sourer. “_Je hais ces brigands_,”[10] he would say, speaking of convicts
+I had got to know something of; I never could make him see any good in
+them. He really did not seem to fully enter into the meaning of anything
+I said on their behalf, though he would sometimes seem to agree in a
+listless sort of way. Next day it was just as before: “_je hais ces
+brigands_.” (We used often to speak French with him; so one of the
+overseers of the works, the soldier, Dranichnikof, used always to call
+us _aides chirurgiens_, God knows why!) M--tski never seemed to shake
+off his usual apathy except when he spoke of his mother.
+
+“She is old and infirm,” he said; “she loves me better than anything in
+the world, and I don’t even know if she’s still living. If she learns
+that I’ve been whipped----”
+
+M--tski was not a noble, and had been whipped before he was transported.
+When the recollection of this came up in his mind he gnashed his teeth,
+and could not look anybody in the face. In the latest days of his
+imprisonment he used to walk to and fro, quite alone for the most part.
+One day, at noon, he was summoned to the Governor, who received him with
+a smile on his lips.
+
+“Well, M--tski, what were your dreams last night?” asked the Governor.
+
+Said M--tski to me later, “When he said that to me a shudder ran through
+me; I felt struck at the heart.”
+
+His answer was, “I dreamed that I had a letter from my mother.”
+
+“Better than that, better!” replied the Governor. “You are free; your
+mother has petitioned the Emperor, and he has granted her prayer. Here,
+here’s her letter, and the order for your dismissal. You are to leave
+the jail without delay.”
+
+He came to us pale, scarcely able to believe in his good fortune.
+
+We congratulated him. He pressed our hands with his own, which were
+quite cold, and trembled violently. Many of the convicts wished him joy;
+they were really glad to see his happiness.
+
+He settled in Siberia, establishing himself in our town, where a little
+after that they gave him a place. He used often to come to the jail to
+bring us news, and tell us all that was going on, as often as he could
+talk with us. It was political news that interested him chiefly.
+
+Besides the four Poles, the political convicts of whom I spoke just now,
+there were two others of that nation, who were sentenced for very short
+periods; they had not much education, but were good, simple,
+straightforward fellows. There was another, A--tchoukooski, quite a
+colourless person; one more I must mention, B--in, a man well on in
+years, who impressed us all very unfavourably indeed. I don’t know what
+he had been sentenced for, although he used to tell us some story or
+other about it pretty frequently. He was a person of a vulgar, mean
+type, with the coarse manner of an enriched shopkeeper. He was quite
+without education, and seemed to take interest in nothing except what
+concerned his trade, which was that of a painter, a sort of
+scene-painter he was; he showed a good deal of talent in his work, and
+the authorities of the prison soon came to know about his abilities, so
+he got employment all through the town in decorating walls and ceilings.
+In two years he beautified the rooms of nearly all the prison officials,
+who remunerated him handsomely, so he lived pretty comfortably. He was
+sent to work with three other prisoners, two of whom learned the
+business thoroughly; one of these, T--jwoski, painted nearly as well as
+B--in himself. Our Major, who had rooms in one of the government
+buildings, sent for B--in, and gave him a commission to decorate the
+walls and ceilings there, which he did so effectively, that the suite of
+rooms of the Governor-General were quite put out of countenance by those
+of the Major. The house itself was a ramshackle old place, while the
+interior, thanks to B--in, was as gay as a palace. Our worthy Major was
+hugely delighted, went about rubbing his hands, and told everybody that
+he should look out for a wife at once, “a fellow _can’t_ remain single
+when he lives in a place like that;” he was quite serious about it. The
+Major’s satisfaction with B--in and his assistants went on increasing.
+They occupied a month in the work at the Major’s house. During those
+memorable days the Major seemed to get into a different frame of mind
+about us, and began to be quite kind to us political prisoners. One day
+he sent for J--ski.
+
+“J--ski,” said he, “I’ve done you wrong; I had you beaten for nothing.
+I’m very sorry. Do you understand? I’m very sorry. I, Major ----”
+
+J--ski answered that he understood perfectly.
+
+“Do you understand? I, who am set over you, I have sent for you to ask
+your pardon. You can hardly realise it, I suppose. What are you to me,
+fellow? A worm, less than a crawling worm; you’re a convict, while I, by
+God’s grace,[11] am a Major; Major ----, _do_ you understand?”
+
+J--ski answered that he quite well understood it all.
+
+“Well, I want to be friends with you. But can you appreciate what I’m
+doing? Can you feel the greatness of soul I’m showing--feel and
+appreciate it? Just think of it; I, I, the Major!” etc. etc.
+
+J--ski told me of this scene. There was, then, some human feeling left
+in this drunken, unruly, and tormenting brute. Allowing for the man’s
+notions of things, and feeble faculties, one cannot deny that this was a
+generous proceeding on his part. Perhaps he was a little less drunk than
+usual, perhaps more; who can tell?
+
+The Major’s glorious idea of marrying came to nothing; the rooms got all
+their bravery, but the wife was not forthcoming. Instead of going to the
+altar in that agreeable way, he was pulled up before the authorities and
+sent to trial. He received orders to send in his resignation. Some of
+his old sins had found him out, it seems; things done when he had been
+superintendent of police in our town. This crushing blow came down upon
+him without notice, quite suddenly. All the convicts were greatly
+rejoiced when they heard the great news; it was high day and holiday all
+through the jail. The story went abroad that the Major sobbed, and
+cried, and howled like an old woman. But he was helpless in the matter.
+He was obliged to leave his place, sell his two gray horses, and
+everything he had in the world; and he fell into complete destitution.
+We came across him occasionally afterwards in civilian, threadbare
+clothes, and wearing a cap with a cockade; he glanced at us convicts as
+spitefully and maliciously as you please. But without his Major’s
+uniform, all the man’s glory was gone. While placed over us, he gave
+himself the airs of a being higher than human, who had got into coat and
+breeches; now it was all over, he looked like the lackey he was, and a
+disgraced lackey to boot.
+
+With fellows of this sort, the uniform is the only saving grace; that
+gone, all’s gone.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[9] The Decembrists.
+
+[10] French in the original Russian.
+
+[11] Our Major was not the only officer who spoke of himself in that
+lofty way; a good many officers did the same, men who had risen from the
+ranks chiefly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE ESCAPE
+
+
+A little while after the Major resigned, our prison was subjected to a
+thorough reorganization. The “hard labour” hitherto inflicted, and the
+other regulations, were abolished, and the place put upon the footing of
+the military convict establishments of Russia. As a result of this,
+prisoners of the second category were no longer sent there; this class
+was, for the future, to be composed of prisoners who were regarded as
+still on the military footing, that is to say, men who, in spite of
+sentence, did not forfeit for ever their civic _status_. They were
+soldiers still, but had undergone corporal punishment; they were
+sentenced for comparatively short periods, six years at most; when they
+had served their time, or in case of pardon, they went into the ranks
+again, as before. Men guilty of a second offence were sentenced to
+twenty years of imprisonment. Up to the time I speak of, we had a
+section of soldier-prisoners among us, but only because they did not
+know where else to dispose of them. Now the place was to be occupied by
+soldiers exclusively. As to the civilian convicts, who were stripped of
+all civic rights, branded, cropped, and shaven, these were to remain in
+the fortress to finish their time; but as no fresh prisoners of this
+class were to come in, and those there would get their discharge
+successively, at the end of ten years there would be no civilian
+convicts left in the place, according to the arrangements. The line of
+division between the classes of prisoners there was maintained; from
+time to time there came in other military criminals of high position,
+sent to our place for security, before being forwarded to Eastern
+Siberia, for the more aggravated penalties that awaited them there.
+
+There was no change in our general way of life. The work we had to do
+and the discipline observed were the same as before; but the
+administrative system was entirely altered, and made more complex. An
+officer, commandant of companies, was assigned to be at the head of the
+prison; he had under his orders four subaltern officers who mounted
+guard by turns. The “invalids” were superseded by twelve
+non-commissioned officers, and an arsenal superintendent. The convicts
+were divided into sections of ten, and corporals chosen among them; the
+power of these over the others was, as may be supposed, nominal. As
+might be expected, Akim Akimitch got this promotion.
+
+All these new arrangements were confided to the Governor to carry out,
+who remained in superior command over the whole establishment. The
+changes did not go further than this. At first the convicts were not a
+little excited by this movement, and discussed their new guardians a
+good deal among themselves, trying to make out what sort of fellows they
+were; but when they saw that everything went on pretty much as usual
+they quieted down, and things resumed their ordinary course. We had got
+rid of the Major, and that was something; everybody took fresh breath
+and fresh courage. The fear that was in all hearts grew less; we had
+some assurance that in case of need we could go to our superiors and
+lodge our complaint, and that a man could not be punished without cause,
+and would not, unless by mistake.
+
+Brandy was brought in as before, although we had subaltern officers now
+where “invalids” were before. These subalterns were all worthy, careful
+men, who knew their place and business. There were some among them who
+had the idea that they might give themselves grand airs, and treat us
+like common soldiers, but they soon gave it up and behaved like the
+others. Those who did not seem to be well able to get into their heads
+what the ways of our prison really were, had sharp lessons about it from
+the convicts themselves, which led to some lively scenes. One
+sub-officer was confronted with brandy, which was of course too much for
+him; when he was sober again we had a little explanation with him; we
+pointed out that he had been drinking with the prisoners, and that,
+accordingly, etc. etc.; he became quite tractable. The end of it was
+that the subalterns closed their eyes to the brandy business. They went
+to market for us, just as the invalids used to, and brought the
+prisoners white bread, meat, anything that could be got in without too
+much risk. So I never could understand why they had gone to the trouble
+of turning the place into a military prison. The change was made two
+years before I left the place; I had two years to bear of it still.
+
+I see little use in recording all I saw and went through later at the
+convict establishment day by day. If I were to tell it all, all the
+daily and hourly occurrences, I might write twice or thrice as many
+chapters as this book ought to contain, but I should simply tire the
+reader and myself. Substantially all that I might write has been already
+embodied in the narrative as it stands so far; and the reader has had
+the opportunity of getting a tolerable idea of what the life of a
+convict of the second class really was. My wish has been to portray the
+state of things at the establishment, and as it affected myself,
+accurately and yet forcibly; whether I have done so others must judge. I
+cannot pronounce upon my own work, but I think I may well draw it to a
+close; as I move among these recollections of a dreadful past, the old
+suffering comes up again and all but strangles me.
+
+Besides, I cannot be sure of my memory as to all I saw in these last
+years, for the faculty seems blunted as regards the later compared with
+the earlier period of my imprisonment, there is a good deal I am sure I
+have quite forgotten. But I remember only too well how very, very slow
+these last two years were, how very sad, how the days seemed as if they
+never would come to evening, something like water falling drop by drop.
+I remember, too, that I was filled with a mighty longing for my
+resurrection from that grave which gave me strength to bear up, to wait,
+and to hope. And so I got to be hardened and enduring; I lived on
+expectation, I counted every passing day; if there were a thousand more
+of them to pass at the prison I found satisfaction in thinking that one
+of them was gone, and only nine hundred and ninety-nine to come. I
+remember, too, that though I had round me a hundred persons in like
+case, I felt myself more and more solitary, and though the solitude was
+awful I came to love it. Isolated thus among the convict-crowd I went
+over all my earlier life, analysing its events and thoughts minutely; I
+passed my former doings in review, and sometimes was pitiless in
+condemnation of myself; sometimes I went so far as to be grateful to
+fate for the privilege of such loneliness, for only that could have
+caused me so severely to scrutinise my past, so searchingly to examine
+its inner and outer life. What strong and strange new germs of hope came
+in those memorable hours up in my soul! I weighed and decided all sorts
+of issues, I entered into a compact with myself to avoid the errors of
+former years, and the rocks on which I had been wrecked; I laid down a
+programme for my future, and vowed that I would stick to it; I had a
+sort of blind and complete conviction that, once away from that place, I
+should be able to carry out everything I made my mind up to; I looked
+for my freedom with transports of eager desire; I wanted to try my
+strength in a renewed struggle with life; sometimes I was clutched, as
+by fangs, by an impatience which rose to fever heat. It is painful to go
+back to these things, most painful; nobody, I know, can care much about
+it at all except myself; but I write because I think people will
+understand, and because there are those who have been, those who yet
+will be, like myself, condemned, imprisoned, cut off from life, in the
+flower of their age, and in the full possession of all their strength.
+
+But all this is useless. Let me end my memoirs with a narrative of
+something interesting, for I must not close them too abruptly.
+
+What shall it be? Well, it may occur to some to ask whether it was quite
+impossible to escape from the jail, and if during the time I spent there
+no attempt of the kind was made. I have already said that a prisoner who
+has got through two or three years thinks a good deal of it, and, as a
+rule, concludes that it is best to finish his time without running more
+risks, so that he may get his settlement, on the land or otherwise, when
+set at liberty. But those who reckon in this way are convicts sentenced
+for comparatively short times; those who have many years to serve are
+always ready to run some chances. For all that the attempts at escape
+were quite infrequent. Whether that was attributable to the want of
+spirit in the convicts, the severity of the military discipline
+enforced, or, after all, to the situation of the town, little favourable
+to escapes, for it was in the midst of the open steppe, I really cannot
+say. All these motives no doubt contributed to give pause. It was
+difficult enough to get out of the prison at all; in my time two
+convicts tried it; they were criminals of importance.
+
+When our Major had been got rid of, A--v, the spy, was quite alone with
+nobody to back him up. He was still quite young, but his character grew
+in force with every year; he was a bold, self-asserting fellow, of
+considerable intelligence. I think if they had set him at liberty he
+would have gone on spying and getting money in every sort of shameful
+way, but I don’t think he would have let himself be caught again; he
+would have turned his experiences as a convict to far too much good for
+that. One trick he practised was that of forging passports, at least so
+I heard from some of the convicts. I think this fellow was ready to risk
+everything for a change in his position. Circumstances gave me the
+opportunity of getting to the bottom of this man’s disposition and
+seeing how ugly it was; he was simply revolting in his cold, deep
+wickedness, and my disgust with him was more than I could get over. I do
+believe that if he wanted a drink of brandy, and could only have got it
+by killing some one, he would not have hesitated one moment if it was
+pretty certain the crime would not come out. He had learned there, in
+that jail, to look on everything in the coolest calculating way. It was
+on him that the choice of Koulikoff--of the special section--fell, as we
+are to see.
+
+I have spoken before of Koulikoff. He was no longer young, but full of
+ardour, life, and vigour, and endowed with extraordinary faculties. He
+felt his strength, and wanted still to have a life of his own; there are
+some men who long to live in a rich, abounding life, even when old age
+has got hold of them. I should have been a good deal surprised if
+Koulikoff had _not_ tried to escape; but he did. Which of the two,
+Koulikoff and A--v, had the greater influence over the other I really
+cannot say; they were a goodly couple, and suited each other to a hair,
+so they soon became as thick as possible. I fancy that Koulikoff
+reckoned on A--v to forge a passport for him; besides, the latter was of
+the noble class, belonged to good society, a circumstance out of which a
+good deal could be made if they managed to get back into Russia. Heaven
+only knows what compacts they made, or what plans and hopes they formed;
+if they got as far as Russia they would at all events leave behind them
+Siberia and vagabondage. Koulikoff was a versatile man, capable of
+playing many a part on the stage of life, and had plenty of ability to
+go upon, whatever direction his efforts took. To such persons the jail
+is strangulation and suffocation. So the two set about plotting their
+escape.
+
+But to get away without a soldier to act as escort was impossible; so a
+soldier had to be won. In one of the battalions stationed at our
+fortress was a Pole of middle life--an energetic fellow worthy of a
+better fate--serious, courageous. When he arrived first in Siberia,
+quite young, he had deserted, for he could not stand his sufferings from
+nostalgia. He was captured and whipped. During two years he formed part
+of the disciplinary companies to which offenders are sent; then he
+rejoined his battalion, and, showing himself zealous in the service, had
+been rewarded by promotion to the rank of corporal. He had a good deal
+of self-love, and spoke like a man who had no small conceit of himself.
+
+I took particular notice of the man sometimes when he was among the
+soldiers who had charge of us, for the Poles had spoken to me about him;
+and I got the idea that his longing for his native country had taken the
+form of a chill, fixed, deadly hatred for those who kept him away from
+it. He was the sort of man to stick at nothing, and Koulikoff showed
+that his scent was good, when he pitched on this man to be an accomplice
+in his flight. This corporal’s name was Kohler. Koulikoff and he settled
+their plans and fixed the day. It was the month of June, the hottest of
+the year. The climate of our town and neighbourhood was pretty equable,
+especially in summer, which is a very good thing for tramps and
+vagabonds. To make off far after leaving the fortress was quite out of
+the question, it being situated on rising ground and in uncovered
+country, for though surrounded by woods, these are a considerable
+distance away. A disguise was indispensable, and to procure it they must
+manage to get into the outskirts of the town, where Koulikoff had taken
+care some time before to prepare a den of some sort. I don’t know
+whether his worthy friends in that part of the town were in the secret.
+It may be presumed they were, though there is no evidence. That year,
+however, a young woman who led a gay life and was very pretty, settled
+down in a nook of that same part of the city, near the county. This
+young person attracted a good deal of notice, and her career promised to
+be something quite remarkable; her nickname was “Fire and Flame.” I
+think that she and the fugitives concerted the plans of escape together,
+for Koulikoff had lavished a good deal of attention and money on her for
+more than a year. When the gangs were formed each morning, the two
+fellows, Koulikoff and A--v, managed to get themselves sent out with the
+convict Chilkin, whose trade was that of stove-maker and plasterer, to
+do up the empty barracks when the soldiers went into camp. A--v and
+Koulikoff were to help in carrying the necessary materials. Kohler got
+himself put into the escort on the occasion; as the rules required three
+soldiers to act as escort for two prisoners, they gave him a young
+recruit whom he was doing corporal’s duty upon, drilling and training
+him. Our fugitives must have exercised a great deal of influence over
+Kohler to deceive him, to cast his lot in with them, serious,
+intelligent, and reflective man as he was, with so few more years of
+service to pass in the army.
+
+They arrived at the barracks about six o’clock in the morning; there was
+nobody with them. After having worked about an hour, Koulikoff and A--v
+told Chilkin that they were going to the workshop to see some one, and
+fetch a tool they wanted. They had to go carefully to work with Chilkin,
+and speak in as natural a tone as they could. The man was from Moscow,
+by trade a stove-maker, sharp and cunning, keen-sighted, not talkative,
+fragile in appearance, with little flesh on his bones. He was the sort
+of person who might have been expected to pass his life in honest
+working dress, in some Moscow shop, yet here he was in the “special
+section,” after many wanderings and transfers among the most formidable
+military criminals; so fate had ordered.
+
+What had he done to deserve such severe punishment? I had not the least
+idea; he never showed the least resentment or sour feeling, and went on
+in a quiet, inoffensive way; now and then he got as drunk as a lord;
+but, apart from that, his conduct was perfectly good. Of course he was
+not in the secret, so he had to be thrown off the scent. Koulikoff told
+him, with a wink, that they were going to get some brandy, which had
+been hidden the day before in the workshop, which suited Chilkin’s book
+perfectly; he had not the least notion of what was up, and remained
+alone with the young recruit, while Koulikoff, A--v, and Kohler betook
+themselves to the suburbs of the town.
+
+Half-an-hour passed; the men did not come back. Chilkin began to think,
+and the truth dawned upon him. He remembered that Koulikoff had not
+seemed at all like himself, that he had seen him whispering and winking
+to A--v; he was sure of that, and the whole thing seemed suspicious to
+him. Kohler’s behaviour had struck him, too; when he went off with the
+two convicts, the corporal had given the recruit orders what he was to
+do in his absence, which he had never known him do before. The more
+Chilkin thought over the matter the less he liked it. Time went on; the
+convicts did not return; his anxiety was great; for he saw that the
+authorities would suspect him of connivance with the fugitives, so that
+his own skin was in danger. If he made any delay in giving information
+of what had occurred, suspicion of himself would grow into conviction
+that he knew what the men intended when they left him, and he would be
+dealt with as their accomplice. There was no time to lose.
+
+It came into his mind, then, that Koulikoff and A--v had become
+markedly intimate for some time, and that they had been often seen
+laying their heads together behind the barracks, by themselves. He
+remembered, too, that he had more than once fancied that they were up to
+something together.
+
+He looked attentively at the soldier with him as escort; the fellow was
+yawning, leaning on his gun, and scratching his nose in the most
+innocent manner imaginable; so Chilkin did not think it necessary to
+speak of his anxieties to this man: he told him simply to come with him
+to the engineers’ workshops. His object was to ask if anybody there had
+seen his companions; but nobody there had, so Chilkin’s suspicions grew
+stronger and stronger. If only he could think that they had gone to get
+drunk and have a spree in the outskirts of the town, as Koulikoff often
+did. No, thought Chilkin, that was _not_ so. They would have told him,
+for there was no need to make a mystery of that. Chilkin left his work,
+and went straight back to the jail.
+
+It was about nine o’clock when he reached the sergeant-major, to whom he
+mentioned his suspicions. That officer was frightened, and at first
+could not believe there was anything in it all. Chilkin had, in fact,
+expressed no more than a vague misgiving that all was not as it should
+be. The sergeant-major ran to the Major, who in his turn ran to the
+Governor. In a quarter-of-an-hour all necessary measures were taken. The
+Governor-General was communicated with. As the convicts in question were
+persons of importance, it might be expected that the matter would be
+seriously viewed at St. Petersburg. A--v was classed among political
+prisoners, by a somewhat random official proceeding, it would seem;
+Koulikoff was a convict of the “special section,” that is to say, as a
+criminal of the blackest dye, and, what was worse, was an ex-soldier. It
+was then brought to notice that according to the regulations each
+convict of the “special section” ought to have two soldiers assigned as
+escort when he went to work; the regulations had not been observed as
+to this, so that everybody was exposed to serious trouble. Expresses
+were sent off to all the district offices of the municipality, and all
+the little neighbouring towns, to warn the authorities of the escape of
+the two convicts, and a full description furnished of their persons.
+Cossacks were sent out to hunt them up, letters sent to the authorities
+of all adjoining Governmental districts. And everybody was frightened to
+death.
+
+The excitement was quite as great all through the prison; as the
+convicts returned from work, they heard the tremendous news, which
+spread rapidly from man to man; all received it with deep, though secret
+satisfaction. Their emotion was as natural as it was great. The affair
+broke the monotony of their lives, and gave them something to think of;
+but, above all, it was an escape, and as such, something to sympathise
+with deeply, and stirred fibres in the poor fellows which had long been
+without any exciting stimulus; something like hope and a disposition to
+confront their fate set their hearts beating, for the incident seemed to
+show that their hard lot was not hopelessly unchangeable.
+
+“Well, you see they’ve got off in spite of them! Why shouldn’t we?”
+
+The thought came into every man’s mind, and made him stiffen his back
+and look at his neighbours in a defiant sort of way. All the convicts
+seemed to grow an inch taller on the strength of it, and to look down a
+bit upon the sub-officers. The heads of the place soon came running up,
+as you may imagine. The Governor now arrived in person. We fellows
+looked at them all with some assurance, with a touch of contempt, and
+with a very set expression of face, as though to say: “Well, you there?
+We can get out of your clutches when we’ve a mind to.”
+
+All the men were quite sure there would be a general searching of
+everything and everybody; so everything that was at all contraband was
+carefully hidden; for the authorities would want to show that precious
+wisdom of theirs which may be reckoned on after the event. The
+expectation was verified; there was a mighty turning of everything
+upside down and topsy-turvy, a general rummage, with the discovery of
+exactly nothing, as they might have known.
+
+When the time came for going out to work after dinner the usual escorts
+were doubled. When night came, the officers and sub-officers on service
+came pouncing on us at every moment to see if we were off our guard, and
+if anything could be got out of us; the lists were gone over once more
+than the usual number of times, which extra mustering only gave more
+trouble for nothing; we were hunted out of the court-yard that our names
+might be gone through again. Then, when in barrack, they reckoned us up
+another time, as if they never could be done with the exercise.
+
+The convicts were not at all disturbed by all this bustling absurdity.
+They put on a very unconcerned demeanour, and, as is always the case in
+such a conjuncture, behaved in the prettiest manner all that evening and
+night. “We won’t give them any handle anyhow,” was the general feeling.
+The question with the authorities was whether some among us were not in
+complicity with those who had got away, so a careful watch was kept over
+our doings, and a careful ear for our conversations; but nothing came of
+it.
+
+“Not such fools, those fellows, as to leave anybody behind who was in
+the secret!”
+
+“When you go at that sort of thing you lie low and play low!”
+
+“Koulikoff and A--v know enough to have covered up their tracks. They’ve
+done the trick in first-rate style, keeping things to themselves;
+they’ve mizzled, the rascals; clever chaps, those, they could get
+through shut doors!”
+
+The glory of Koulikoff and A--v had grown a hundred cubits higher than
+it was. Everybody was proud of them. Their exploit, it was felt, would
+be handed down to the most distant posterity, and outlive the jail
+itself.
+
+“Rattling fellows, those!” said one.
+
+“Can’t get away from here, eh? _That’s_ their notion, is it? Just look
+at those chaps!”
+
+“Yes,” said a third, looking very superior, “but who _is_ it that has
+got away? Tip-top fellows. _You_ can’t hold a candle to them.”
+
+At any other time the man to whom anything of that sort was said would
+have replied angrily enough, and defended himself; now the observation
+was met with modest silence.
+
+“True enough,” was said. “Everybody’s not a Koulikoff or an A--v, you’ve
+got to show what you’re made of before you’ve a right to speak.”
+
+“I say, pals, after all, why do we remain in the place?” struck in a
+prisoner seated by the kitchen window; he spoke drawlingly, but the man,
+you could see, enjoyed it all; he slowly rubbed his cheek with the palm
+of his hand. “Why do we stop? It’s no life at all, we’ve been buried,
+though we’re alive and kicking. Now _isn’t_ it so?”
+
+“Oh, curse it, you can’t get out of prison as easy as shaking off an old
+boot. I tell you it sticks to your calves. What’s the good of pulling a
+long face over it?”
+
+“But, look here; there is Koulikoff now,” began one of the most eager, a
+mere lad.
+
+“Koulikoff!” exclaimed another, looking askance at the young fellow.
+“Koulikoff! They don’t turn out Koulikoffs by the dozen.”
+
+“And A--v, pals, there’s a lad for you!”
+
+“Aye, aye, he’ll get Koulikoff just where he wants him, as often as he
+wants him. He’s up to everything, he is.”
+
+“I wonder how far they’ve got; that’s what _I_ want to know,” said one.
+
+Then the talk went off into details: Had they got far from the town?
+What direction did they go off in? _Which_ gave them the best chance?
+Then they discussed distances, and as there were convicts who knew the
+neighbourhood well, these were attentively listened to.
+
+Next, they talked over the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, of
+whom they seemed to think as badly as possible. There was nobody in the
+neighbourhood, the convicts believed, who would hesitate at all as to
+the course to be pursued; nothing would induce them to help the
+runaways; quite the other way, these people would hunt them down.
+
+“If you only knew what bad fellows these peasants are! Rascally brutes!”
+
+“Peasants, indeed! Worthless scamps!”
+
+“These Siberians are as bad as bad can be. They think nothing of killing
+a man.”
+
+“Oh, well, our fellows----”
+
+“Yes, that’s it, they may come off second best. Our fellows are as
+plucky as plucky can be.”
+
+“Well, if we live long enough, we shall hear something about them soon.”
+
+“Well, now, what do you _think_? Do you think they really will get clean
+away?”
+
+“I am sure, as I live, that they’ll never be caught,” said one of the
+most excited, giving the table a great blow with his fist.
+
+“Hm! That’s as things turn out.”
+
+“I’ll tell you what, friends,” said Skouratof, “if I once got out, I’d
+stake my life they’d never get me again.”
+
+“_You?_”
+
+Everybody burst out laughing. They would hardly condescend to listen to
+him; but Skouratof was not to be put down.
+
+“I tell you I’d stake my life on it!” with great energy. “Why, I made my
+mind up to _that_ long ago. I’d find means of going through a key-hole
+rather than let them lay hands on me.”
+
+“Oh, don’t you fear, when your belly got empty you’d just go creeping
+to a peasant and ask him for a morsel of something.”
+
+Fresh laughter.
+
+“I ask him for victuals? You’re a liar!”
+
+“Hold your jaw, can’t you? We know what you were sent here for. You and
+your Uncle Vacia killed some peasant for bewitching your cattle.”[12]
+
+More laughter. The more serious among them seemed very angry and
+indignant.
+
+“You’re a liar,” cried Skouratof; “it’s Mikitka who told you that; I
+wasn’t in that at all, it was Uncle Vacia; don’t you mix my name up in
+it. I’m a Moscow man, and I’ve been on the tramp ever since I was a very
+small thing. Look here, when the priest taught me to read the liturgy,
+he used to pinch my ears, and say, ‘Repeat this after me: Have pity on
+me, Lord, out of Thy great goodness;’ and he used to make me say with
+him, ‘They’ve taken me up and brought me to the police-station out of
+Thy great goodness,’ and the like. I tell you that went on when I was
+quite a little fellow.”
+
+All laughed heartily again; that was what Skouratof wanted; he liked
+playing clown. Soon the talk became serious again, especially among the
+older men and those who knew a good deal about escapes. Those among the
+younger convicts who could keep themselves quiet enough to listen,
+seemed highly delighted. A great crowd was assembled in and about the
+kitchen. There were none of the warders about; so everybody could give
+vent to his feelings in talk or otherwise. One man I noticed who was
+particularly enjoying himself, a Tartar, a little fellow with high
+cheek-bones, and a remarkably droll face. His name was Mametka, he could
+scarcely speak Russian at all, but it was odd to see the way he craned
+his neck forward into the crowd, and the childish delight he showed.
+
+“Well, Mametka, my lad, _iakchi_.”
+
+“_Iakchi, ouk, iakchi!_” said Mametka as well as he could, shaking his
+grotesque head. “_Iakchi._”
+
+“They’ll never catch them, eh? _Iok._”
+
+“_Iok, iok!_” and Mametka waggled his head and threw his arms about.
+
+“You’re a liar, then, and I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hey!”
+
+“That’s it, that’s it, _iakchi_!” answered poor Mametka.
+
+“All right, good, _iakchi_ it is!”
+
+Skouratof gave him a thump on the head, which sent his cap down over his
+eyes, and went out in high glee, and Mametka was quite chapfallen.
+
+For a week or so a very tight hand was kept on everybody in the jail,
+and the whole neighbourhood was repeatedly and carefully searched. How
+they managed it I cannot tell, but the prisoners always seemed to know
+all about the measures taken by the authorities for recovering the
+runaways. For some days, according to all we heard, things went very
+favourably for them; no traces whatever of them could be found. Our
+convicts made very light of all the authorities were about, and were
+quite at their ease about their friends, and kept saying that nothing
+would ever be found out about them.
+
+All the peasants round about were roused, we were told, and watching all
+the likely places, woods, ravines, etc.
+
+“Stuff and nonsense!” said our fellows, who had a grin on their faces
+most of the time, “they’re hidden at somebody’s place who’s a friend.”
+
+“That’s certain; they’re not the fellows to chance things, they’ve made
+all sure.”
+
+The general idea was, in fact, that they were still concealed in the
+suburbs of the town, in a cellar, waiting till the hue and cry was over,
+and for their hair to grow; that they would remain there perhaps six
+months at least, and then quietly go off. All the prisoners were in the
+most fanciful and romantic state of mind about the things. Suddenly,
+eight days after the escape, a rumour spread that the authorities were
+on their track. This rumour was at first treated with contempt, but
+towards evening there seemed to be more in it. The convicts became much
+excited. Next morning it was said in the town that the runaways had been
+caught, and were being brought back. After dinner there were further
+details; the story was that they had been seized at a hamlet, seventy
+versts away from the town. At last we had fully confirmed tidings. The
+sergeant-major positively asserted, immediately after an interview with
+the Major, that they would be brought into the guard-house that very
+night. They were taken; there could be no doubt of it.
+
+It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the way the convicts were
+affected by the news. At first their rage was great, then they were
+deeply dejected. Then they began to be bitter and sarcastic, pouring all
+their scorn, not on the authorities, but on the runaways who had been
+such fools as to get caught. A few began this, then nearly all joined,
+except a small number of the more serious, thoughtful ones, who held
+their tongues, and seemed to regard the thoughtless fellows with great
+contempt.
+
+Poor Koulikoff and A--v were now just as heartily abused as they had
+been glorified before; the men seemed to take a delight in running them
+down, as though in being caught they had done something wantonly
+offensive to their mates. It was said, with high contempt, that the
+fellows had probably got hungry and couldn’t stand it, and had gone into
+a village to ask bread of the peasants, which, according to tramp
+etiquette, it appears, is to come down very low in the world indeed. In
+this supposition the men turned out to be quite mistaken; for what had
+happened was that the tracks of the runaways out of the town were
+discovered and followed up; they were ascertained to have got into a
+wood, which was surrounded, so that the fugitives had no recourse but
+to give themselves up.
+
+They were brought in that night, tied hands and feet, under armed
+escort. All the convicts ran hastily to the palisades to see what would
+be done with them; but they saw nothing except the carriages of the
+Governor and the Major, which were waiting in front of the guard-house.
+The fugitives were ironed and locked up separately, their punishment
+being adjourned till the next day. The prisoners began all to sympathise
+with the unhappy fellows when they heard how they had been taken, and
+learned that they could not help themselves, and the anxiety about the
+issue was keen.
+
+“They’ll get a thousand at least.”
+
+“A thousand, is it? I tell you they’ll have it till the life is beaten
+out of them. A--v may get off with a thousand, but the other they’ll
+kill; why, he’s in the ‘special section.’”
+
+They were wrong. A--v was sentenced to five hundred strokes, his
+previous good conduct told in his favour, and this was his first prison
+offence. Koulikoff, I believe, had fifteen hundred. The punishment, upon
+the whole, was mild rather than severe.
+
+The two men showed good sense and feeling, for they gave nobody’s name
+as having helped them, and positively declared that they had made
+straight for the woods without going into anybody’s house. I was very
+sorry for Koulikoff; to say nothing of the heavy beating he got; he had
+thrown away all his chances of having his lot as a prisoner lightened.
+Later he was sent to another convict establishment. A--v did not get all
+he was sentenced to; the physicians interfered, and he was let off. But
+as soon as he was safe in the hospital he began blowing his trumpet
+again, and said he would stick at nothing now, and that they should soon
+see what he would do. Koulikoff was not changed a bit, as decorous as
+ever, and gave himself just the same airs as ever; manner or words to
+show that he had had such an adventure. But the convicts looked on him
+quite differently; he seemed to have come down a good deal in their
+estimation, and now to be on their own level every way, instead of being
+a superior creature. So it was that poor Koulikoff’s star paled; success
+is everything in this world.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[12] The expression of the original is untranslatable; literally “you
+killed a cattle-kill.” This phrase means murder of a peasant, male or
+female, supposed to bewitch cattle. We had in our jail a murderer who
+had done this cattle-kill.--DOSTOÏEFFSKY’S NOTE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+FREEDOM!
+
+
+This incident occurred during my last year of imprisonment. My
+recollection of what occurred this last year is as keen as of the events
+of the first years; but I have gone into detail enough. In spite of my
+impatience to be out, this year was the least trying of all the years I
+spent there. I had now many friends and acquaintances among the
+convicts, who had by this time made up their minds very much in my
+favour. Many of them, indeed, had come to feel a sincere and genuine
+affection for me. The soldier who was assigned to accompany my friend
+and myself--simultaneously discharged--out of the prison, very nearly
+cried when the time for leaving came. And when we were at last in full
+freedom, staying in the rooms of the Government building placed at our
+disposal for the month we still spent in the town, this man came nearly
+every day to see us. But there were some men whom I could never soften
+or win any regard from--God knows why--and who showed just the same hard
+aversion for me at the last as at the first; something we could not get
+over stood between us.
+
+I had more indulgences during the last year. I found among the military
+functionaries of our town old acquaintances, and even some old
+schoolfellows, and the renewal of these relations helped me. Thanks to
+them I got permission to have some money, to write to my family, and
+even to have some books. For some years I had not had a single volume,
+and words would fail to tell the strange, deep emotion and excitement
+which the first book I read at the jail caused me. I began to devour it
+at night, when the doors were closed, and read it till the break of day.
+It was a number of a review, and it seemed to me like a messenger from
+the other world. As I read, my life before the prison days seemed to
+rise up before me in sharp definition, as of some existence independent
+of my own, which another soul had had. Then I tried to get some clear
+idea of my relation to current events and things; whether my arrears of
+knowledge and experience were too great to make up; whether the men and
+women out of doors had lived and gone through many things and great
+during the time I was away from them; and great was my desire to
+thoroughly understand what was _now_ going on, _now_ that I could know
+something about it all at last. All the words I read were as palpable
+things, which I wanted rather to feel sensibly than get mere meaning out
+of; I tried to see more in the text than _could_ be there. I imagined
+some mysterious meanings that _must_ be in them, and tried at every page
+to see allusions to the past, with which my mind was familiar, whether
+they were there or not; at every turn of the leaf I sought for traces of
+what had deeply moved people before the days of my bondage; and deep was
+my dejection when it was forced on my mind that a new state of things
+had arisen; a new life, among my kind, which was alien to my knowledge
+and my sentiments. I felt as if I was a straggler, left behind and lost
+in the onward march of mankind.
+
+Yes, there were indeed arrears, if the word is not too weak.
+
+For the truth is, that another generation had come up, and I knew it
+not, and it knew not me. At the foot of one article I saw the name of
+one who had been dear to me; with what avidity I flung myself on _that_
+paper! But the other names were nearly all new to me; new workers had
+come upon the scene, and I was eager to know their doings and
+themselves. It made me feel nearly desperate to have so few books, and
+to know how hard it would be to get more. At an earlier date, in the old
+Major’s time, it was a dangerous thing indeed to bring books into the
+jail. If one was found when the whole place was searched, as was
+regularly done, great was the disturbance, and no efforts were spared to
+find out how they got in, and who had helped in the offence. I did not
+want to be subjected to insulting scrutiny, and, if I had, it would have
+been useless. I _had_ to live without books, and did, shut up in myself,
+tormenting myself with many a question and problem on which I had no
+means of throwing any light. But I can _never_ tell it all.
+
+It was in winter that I came in, so in winter I was to leave, on the
+anniversary-day. Oh, with what impatience did I look forward to the
+thrice-blessed winter! How gladly did I see the summer die out, the
+leaves turn yellow on the trees, the grass turn dry over the wide
+steppe! Summer is gone at last! the winds of autumn howl and groan, the
+first snow falls in whirling flakes. The winter, so long, long-prayed
+for, is come, come at last. Oh, how the heart beats with the thought
+that freedom was really, at last, at last, close at hand. Yet it was
+strange, as the time of times, the day of days, grew nearer and nearer,
+so did my soul grow quieter and quieter. I was annoyed at myself,
+reproached myself even with being cold, indifferent. Many of the
+convicts, as I met them in the court-yard when the day’s work was done,
+used to get out, and talk with me to wish me joy.
+
+“Ah, little Father Alexander Petrovitch, you’ll soon be out now! And
+here you’ll leave us poor devils behind!”
+
+“Well, Mertynof, have you long to wait still?” I asked the man who
+spoke.
+
+“I! Oh, good Lord, I’ve seven years of it yet to weary through.”
+
+Then the man sighed with a far-away, wandering look, as if he was gazing
+into those intolerable days to come.... Yes, many of my companions
+congratulated me in a way that showed they really felt what they said. I
+saw, too, that there was more disposition to meet me as man to man, they
+drew nearer to me as I was to leave them; the halo of freedom began to
+surround me, and caring for that they cared more for me. It was in this
+spirit they bade me farewell.
+
+K--schniski, a young Polish noble, a sweet and amiable person, was very
+fond, about this time, of walking in the court-yard with me. The
+stifling nights in the barracks did him much harm, so he tried his best
+to keep his health by getting all the exercise and fresh air he could.
+
+“I am looking forward impatiently to the day when _you_ will be set
+free,” he said with a smile one day, “for when you go I shall _realise_
+that I have just one year more of it to undergo.”
+
+Need I say what I can yet not help saying, that freedom in idea always
+seemed to us who were there something _more_ free than it ever can be in
+reality? That was because our fancy was always dwelling upon it.
+Prisoners always exaggerate when they think of freedom and look on a
+free man; we did certainly; the poorest servant of one of the officers
+there seemed a sort of king to us, everything we could imagine in a free
+man, compared with ourselves at least; he had no irons on his limbs, his
+head was not shaven, he could go where and when he liked, with no
+soldiers to watch and escort him.
+
+The day before I was set free, as night fell I went _for the last time_
+all through and all round the prison. How many a thousand times had I
+made the circuit of those palisades during those ten years! There, at
+the rear of the barracks, had I gone to and fro during the whole of that
+first year, a solitary, despairing man. I remember how I used to reckon
+up the days I had still to pass there--thousands, thousands! God! how
+long ago it seemed. There’s the corner where the poor prisoned eagle
+wasted away; Petroff used often to come to me at that place. It seemed
+as if the man would never leave my side now; he would place himself by
+my side and walk along without ever saying a word, as though he knew all
+my thoughts as well as myself, and there was always a strange,
+inexplicable sort of wondering look on the man’s face.
+
+How many a mental farewell did I take of the black, squared beams in our
+barracks! Ah, me! How much joyless youth, how much strength for which
+use there was none, was buried, lost in those walls!--youth and strength
+of which the world might surely have made _some_ use. For I must speak
+my thoughts as to this: the hapless fellows there were perhaps the
+strongest, and, in one way or another, the most gifted of our people.
+There was all that strength of body and of mind lost, hopelessly lost.
+Whose fault is that?
+
+Yes; whose fault _is_ that?
+
+The next day, at an early hour, before the men were mustered for work, I
+went through all the barracks to bid the men a last farewell. Many a
+vigorous, horny hand was held out to me with right good-will. Some
+grasped and shook my hand as though all their hearts went with the act;
+but these were the more generous souls. Most of the poor fellows seemed
+so much to feel that, for them, I was already a man changed by what was
+coming, that they could feel scarce anything else. They knew that I had
+friends in the town, that I was going away at once to _gentlemen_, that
+I should sit at their table as their equal. This the poor fellows felt;
+and, although they did their best as they took my hand, that hand could
+not be the hand of an equal. No; I, too, was a gentleman now. Some
+turned their backs on me, and made no reply to my parting words. I
+think, too, that I saw looks of aversion on some faces.
+
+The drum beat; all the convicts went to their work; and I was left to
+myself. Souchiloff had got up before everybody that morning, and now set
+himself tremblingly to the task of getting ready for me a last cup of
+tea. Poor Souchiloff! How he cried when I gave him my clothes, my
+shirts, my trouser-straps, and some money.
+
+“’Tain’t that, ’tain’t that,” he said, and he bit his trembling lips,
+“it’s that I am going to lose you, Alexander Petrovitch! What _shall_ I
+do without you?”
+
+There was Akim Akimitch, too; him, also, I bade farewell.
+
+“Your turn to go will come soon, I pray,” said I.
+
+“Ah, no! I shall remain here long, long, very long yet,” he just managed
+to say, as he pressed my hand. I threw myself on his neck; we kissed.
+
+Ten minutes after the convicts had gone out, my companion and myself
+left the jail _for ever_. We went to the blacksmith’s shop, where our
+irons were struck off. We had no armed escort, we went there attended by
+a single sub-officer. It was convicts who struck off our irons in the
+engineers’ workshop. I let them do it for my friend first, then went to
+the anvil myself. The smiths made me turn round, seized my leg, and
+stretched it on the anvil. Then they went about the business
+methodically, as though they wanted to make a very neat job of it
+indeed.
+
+“The rivet, man, turn the rivet first,” I heard the master smith say;
+“there, so, so. Now, a stroke of the hammer!”
+
+The irons fell. I lifted them up. Some strange impulse made me long to
+have them in my hands for one last time. I couldn’t realise that, only a
+moment before, they had been on my limbs.
+
+“Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye!” said the convicts in their broken
+voices; but they seemed pleased as they said it.
+
+Yes, farewell!
+
+Liberty! New life! Resurrection from the dead!
+
+Unspeakable moment!
+
+
+THE END
+
+THE TEMPLE PRESS, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH
+
+
+
+
+Note: On page 325, “the other two were the spy A----n” changed to
+“the other two were the spy A--v”
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD ***
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+
+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of he House of the Dead or Prison Life in
+Siberia, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The House of the Dead or Prison Life in Siberia
+       with an introduction by Julius Bramont</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 25, 2011 [EBook #37536]<br>
+[Most recently updated: June 19, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian
+Libraries)</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD ***</div>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="bold2">EVERYMAN’S LIBRARY<br>EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS</p>
+
+<p class="tbrk">&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="bold2">FICTION</p>
+
+<h1><span>THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD</span> <span id="id1">BY</span> <span>FEDOR DOSTO&Iuml;EFFSKY</span></h1>
+
+<p class="bold2">WITH AN INTRODUCTION<br>BY JULIUS BRAMONT</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="center"><img src="images/dectitle3.jpg" width='412' height='700' alt="EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY"></div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="center"><img src="images/dectitle1.jpg" width='442' height='700' alt="SIR PHILIP SYDNEY"></div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="center"><a name="coverpage" id="coverpage"></a><img src="images/dectitle2.jpg" width='442' height='700' alt="The House of the Dead title page"></div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="tbrk">&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="bold"><span class="smcap">First Issue of this Edition</span> 1911<br>
+<span class="smcap">Reprinted</span> 1914</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><span>INTRODUCTION</span></h2>
+
+<p>“The Russian nation is a new and wonderful phenomenon in the history of
+mankind. The character of the people differs to such a degree from that
+of the other Europeans that their neighbours find it impossible to
+diagnose them.” This affirmation by Dosto&iuml;effsky, the prophetic
+journalist, offers a key to the treatment in his novels of the troubles
+and aspirations of his race. He wrote with a sacramental fervour whether
+he was writing as a personal agent or an impersonal, novelist or
+journalist. Hence his rage with the calmer men, more gracious
+interpreters of the modern Sclav, who like Ivan Tourguenieff were able
+to see Russia on a line with the western nations, or to consider her
+maternal throes from the disengaged, safe retreat of an arm-chair exile
+in Paris. Not so was <i>l’&acirc;me Russe</i> to be given her new literature in the
+eyes of M. Dosto&iuml;effsky, strained with watching, often red with tears and anger.</p>
+
+<p>Those other nations, he said&mdash;proudly looking for the symptoms of the
+world-intelligence in his own&mdash;those other nations of Europe may
+maintain that they have at heart a common aim and a common ideal. In
+fact they are divided among themselves by a thousand interests,
+territorial or other. Each pulls his own way with ever-growing
+determination. It would seem that every individual nation aspires to the
+discovery of the universal ideal for humanity, and is bent on attaining
+that ideal by force of its own unaided strength. Hence, he argued, each
+European nation is an enemy to its own welfare and that of the world in general.</p>
+
+<p>To this very disassociation he attributed, without quite understanding
+the rest of us, our not understanding the Russian people, and our taxing
+them with “a lack of personality.” We failed to perceive their rare
+synthetic power&mdash;that faculty of the Russian mind to read the
+aspirations of the whole of human kind. Among his own folk, he avowed,
+we would find none of the imperviousness, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> intolerance, of the
+average European. The Russian adapts himself with ease to the play of
+contemporary thought and has no difficulty in assimilating any new idea.
+He sees where it will help his fellow-creatures and where it fails to be
+of value. He divines the process by which ideas, even the most
+divergent, the most hostile to one another, may meet and blend.</p>
+
+<p>Possibly, recognising this, M. Dosto&iuml;effsky was the more concerned not
+to be too far depolarised, or say de-Russified, in his own works of
+fiction. But in truth he had no need to fear any weakening of his
+natural fibre and racial proclivities, or of the authentic utterance
+wrung out of him by the hard and cruel thongs of experience. We see the
+rigorous sincerity of his record again in the sheer autobiography
+contained in the present work, <i>The House of the Dead</i>. It was in the
+fatal winter of 1849 when he was with many others, mostly very young men
+like himself, sentenced to death for his liberal political propaganda; a
+sentence which was at the last moment commuted to imprisonment in the
+Siberian prisons. Out of that terror, which turned youth grey, was
+distilled the terrible reality of <i>The House of the Dead</i>. If one would
+truly fathom how deep that reality is, and what its phenomenon in
+literature amounts to, one should turn again to that favourite idyllic
+book of youth, by my countrywoman Mme. Cottin, <i>Elizabeth, or the Exiles
+of Siberia</i>, and compare, for example, the typical scene of Elizabeth’s
+sleep in the wooden chapel in the snow, where she ought to have been
+frozen to death but fared very comfortably, with the Siberian actuality
+of Dosto&iuml;effsky.</p>
+
+<p>But he was no idyllist, though he could be tender as Mme. Cottin
+herself. What he felt about these things you can tell from his stories.
+If a more explicit statement in the theoretic side be asked of him, take
+this plain avowal from his confession books of 1870-77:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>“There is no denying that the people are morally ill, with a grave,
+although not a mortal, malady, one to which it is difficult to assign a
+name. May we call it ‘An unsatisfied thirst for truth’? The people are
+seeking eagerly and untiringly for truth and for the ways that lead to
+it, but hitherto they have failed in their search. After the liberation
+of the serfs, this great longing for truth appeared among the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span>
+people&mdash;for truth perfect and entire, and with it the resurrection of
+civic life. There was a clamouring for a ‘new Gospel’; new ideas and
+feelings became manifest; and a great hope rose up among the people
+believing that these great changes were precursors of a state of things
+which never came to pass.”</p>
+
+<p>There is the accent of his hope and his despair. Let it prove to you the
+conviction with which he wrote these tragic pages, one that is affecting
+at this moment the destiny of Russia and the spirit of us who watch her
+as profoundly moved spectators.</p>
+
+<p class="right">JULIUS BRAMONT.</p>
+
+<p class="center">BIBLIOGRAPHY</p>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Dosto&iuml;effsky’s works, so far as they have appeared in English.</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>Translations of Dosto&iuml;effsky’s novels have appeared as
+follows:&mdash;Buried Alive; or, Ten Years of Penal Servitude in
+Siberia, translated by Marie v. Thilo, 1881. In Vizetelly’s One
+Volume Novels: Crime and Punishment, vol. 13; Injury and Insult,
+translated by F. Whishaw, vol. 17; The Friend of the Family and the
+Gambler, etc., vol. 22. In Vizetelly’s Russian Novels: The Idiot,
+by F. Whishaw, 1887; Uncle’s Dream; and, The Permanent Husband,
+etc., 1888. Prison Life in Siberia, translated by H. S. Edwards,
+1888; Poor Folk, translated by L. Milman, 1894.</p>
+
+<p>See D. S. Merezhkovsky, Tolstoi as Man and Artist, with Essay on
+Dosto&iuml;effsky, translated from the Russian, 1902; M. Baring,
+Landmarks in Russian Literature (chapter on Dosto&iuml;effsky), 1910.</p></blockquote>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><span>CONTENTS</span></h2>
+
+<p class="center">PART I</p>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td colspan="2" class="left"><span class="smaller">CHAP.</span></td>
+    <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>I.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Ten Years a Convict</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>II.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Dead-House</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>III.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">First Impressions</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>IV.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">First Impressions</span> (<i>continued</i>)</td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>V.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">First Impressions</span> (<i>continued</i>)</td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>VI.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The First Month</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>VII.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The First Month</span> (<i>continued</i>)</td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>VIII.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">New Acquaintances&mdash;Petroff</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>IX.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Men of Determination&mdash;Luka</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>X.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Isaiah Fomitch</span>&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Bath</span>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Baklouchin</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>XI.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Christmas Holidays</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>XII.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Performance</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="center">PART II</p>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td>I.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Hospital</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>II.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Hospital</span> (<i>continued</i>)</td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>III.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Hospital</span> (<i>continued</i>)</td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>IV.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Husband of Akoulka</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>V.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Summer Season</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>VI.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Animals at the Convict Establishment</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_286">286</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>VII.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Grievances</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>VIII.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">My Companions</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_325">325</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>IX.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">The Escape</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_344">344</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>X.</td>
+    <td class="left">&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Freedom!</span></td>
+    <td><a href="#Page_363">363</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><span>PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA.</span></h2>
+
+<hr class="smler">
+
+<h2><span>PART I.</span></h2>
+
+<hr class="smler">
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER I.</span> <span class="smaller">TEN YEARS A CONVICT</span></h3>
+
+<p>In the midst of the steppes, of the mountains, of the impenetrable
+forests of the desert regions of Siberia, one meets from time to time
+with little towns of a thousand or two inhabitants, built entirely of
+wood, very ugly, with two churches&mdash;one in the centre of the town, the
+other in the cemetery&mdash;in a word, towns which bear much more resemblance
+to a good-sized village in the suburbs of Moscow than to a town properly
+so called. In most cases they are abundantly provided with
+police-master, assessors, and other inferior officials. If it is cold in
+Siberia, the great advantages of the Government service compensate for
+it. The inhabitants are simple people, without liberal ideas. Their
+manners are antique, solid, and unchanged by time. The officials who
+form, and with reason, the nobility in Siberia, either belong to the
+country, deeply-rooted Siberians, or they have arrived there from
+Russia. The latter come straight from the capitals, tempted by the high
+pay, the extra allowance for travelling expenses, and by hopes not less
+seductive for the future. Those who know how to resolve the problem of
+life remain almost always in Siberia; the abundant and richly-flavoured
+fruit which they gather there recompenses them amply for what they lose.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p><p>As for the others, light-minded persons who are unable to deal with the
+problem, they are soon bored in Siberia, and ask themselves with regret
+why they committed the folly of coming. They impatiently kill the three
+years which they are obliged by rule to remain, and as soon as their
+time is up, they beg to be sent back, and return to their original
+quarters, running down Siberia, and ridiculing it. They are wrong, for
+it is a happy country, not only as regards the Government service, but
+also from many other points of view.</p>
+
+<p>The climate is excellent, the merchants are rich and hospitable, the
+Europeans in easy circumstances are numerous; as for the young girls,
+they are like roses and their morality is irreproachable. Game is to be
+found in the streets, and throws itself upon the sportsman’s gun. People
+drink champagne in prodigious quantities. The caviare is astonishingly
+good and most abundant. In a word, it is a blessed land, out of which it
+is only necessary to be able to make profit; and much profit is really made.</p>
+
+<p>It is in one of these little towns&mdash;gay and perfectly satisfied with
+themselves, the population of which has left upon me the most agreeable
+impression&mdash;that I met an exile, Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff,
+formerly a landed proprietor in Russia. He had been condemned to hard
+labour of the second class for assassinating his wife. After undergoing
+his punishment&mdash;ten years of hard labour&mdash;he lived quietly and unnoticed
+as a colonist in the little town of K&mdash;&mdash;. To tell the truth, he was
+inscribed in one of the surrounding districts; but he resided at K&mdash;&mdash;,
+where he managed to get a living by giving lessons to children. In the
+towns of Siberia one often meets with exiles who are occupied with
+instruction. They are not looked down upon, for they teach the French
+language, so necessary in life, and of which without them one would not,
+in the distant parts of Siberia, have the least idea.</p>
+
+<p>I saw Alexander Petrovitch the first time at the house of an official,
+Ivan Ivanitch Gvosdikof, a venerable old man, very hospitable, and the
+father of five daughters,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> of whom the greatest hopes were entertained.
+Four times a week Alexander Petrovitch gave them lessons, at the rate of
+thirty kopecks silver a lesson. His external appearance interested me.
+He was excessively pale and thin, still young&mdash;about thirty-five years
+of age&mdash;short and weak, always very neatly dressed in the European
+style. When you spoke to him he looked at you in a very attentive
+manner, listening to your words with strict politeness, and with a
+reflective air, as though you had placed before him a problem or wished
+to extract from him a secret. He replied clearly and shortly; but in
+doing so, weighed each word, so that one felt ill at ease without
+knowing why, and was glad when the conversation came to an end. I put
+some questions to Ivan Gvosdikof in regard to him. He told me that
+Goriantchikoff was of irreproachable morals, otherwise Gvosdikof would
+not have entrusted him with the education of his children; but that he
+was a terrible misanthrope, who kept apart from all society; that he was
+very learned, a great reader, and that he spoke but little, and never
+entered freely into a conversation. Certain persons told him that he was
+mad; but that was not looked upon as a very serious defect. Accordingly,
+the most important persons in the town were ready to treat Alexander
+Petrovitch with respect, for he could be useful to them in writing
+petitions. It was believed that he was well connected in Russia.
+Perhaps, among his relations, there were some who were highly placed;
+but it was known that since his exile he had broken off all relations
+with them. In a word&mdash;he injured himself. Every one knew his story, and
+was aware that he had killed his wife, through jealousy, less than a
+year after his marriage; and that he had given himself up to justice;
+which had made his punishment much less severe. Such crimes are always
+looked upon as misfortunes, which must be treated with pity.
+Nevertheless, this original kept himself obstinately apart, and never
+showed himself except to give lessons. In the first instance I paid no
+attention to him; then, without knowing why, I found myself interested
+by him. He was rather enigmatic;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> to talk with him was quite impossible.
+Certainly he replied to all my questions; he seemed to make it a duty to
+do so; but when once he had answered, I was afraid to interrogate him any longer.</p>
+
+<p>After such conversations one could observe on his countenance signs of
+suffering and exhaustion. I remember that, one fine summer evening, I
+went out with him from the house of Ivan Gvosdikof. It suddenly occurred
+to me to invite him to come in with me and smoke a cigarette. I can
+scarcely describe the fright which showed itself in his countenance. He
+became confused, muttered incoherent words, and suddenly, after looking
+at me with an angry air, took to flight in an opposite direction. I was
+very much astonished afterwards, when he met me. He seemed to
+experience, on seeing me, a sort of terror; but I did not lose courage.
+There was something in him which attracted me.</p>
+
+<p>A month afterwards I went to see Petrovitch without any pretext. It is
+evident that, in doing so, I behaved foolishly, and without the least
+delicacy. He lived at one of the extreme points of the town with an old
+woman whose daughter was in a consumption. The latter had a little child
+about ten years old, very pretty and very lively.</p>
+
+<p>When I went in Alexander Petrovitch was seated by her side, and was
+teaching her to read. When he saw me he became confused, as if I had
+detected him in a crime. Losing all self-command, he suddenly stood up
+and looked at me with awe and astonishment. Then we both of us sat down.
+He followed attentively all my looks, as if I had suspected him of some
+mysterious intention. I understood he was horribly mistrustful. He
+looked at me as a sort of spy, and he seemed to be on the point of
+saying, “Are you not soon going away?”</p>
+
+<p>I spoke to him of our little town, of the news of the day, but he was
+silent, or smiled with an air of displeasure. I could see that he was
+absolutely ignorant of all that was taking place in the town, and that
+he was in no way curious to know. I spoke to him afterwards of the
+country generally, and of its men. He listened to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> still in silence,
+fixing his eyes upon me in such a strange way that I became ashamed of
+what I was doing. I was very nearly offending him by offering him some
+books and newspapers which I had just received by post. He cast a greedy
+look upon them; he then seemed to alter his mind, and declined my offer,
+giving his want of leisure as a pretext.</p>
+
+<p>At last I wished him good-bye, and I felt a weight fall from my
+shoulders as I left the house. I regretted to have harassed a man whose
+tastes kept him apart from the rest of the world. But the fault had been
+committed. I had remarked that he possessed very few books. It was not
+true, then, that he read so much. Nevertheless, on two occasions when I
+drove past, I saw a light in his lodging. What could make him sit up so
+late? Was he writing, and if that were so, what was he writing?</p>
+
+<p>I was absent from our town for about three months. When I returned home
+in the winter, I learned that Petrovitch was dead, and that he had not
+even sent for a doctor. He was even now already forgotten, and his
+lodging was unoccupied. I at once made the acquaintance of his landlady,
+in the hope of learning from her what her lodger had been writing. For
+twenty kopecks she brought me a basket full of papers left by the
+defunct, and confessed to me that she had already employed four sheets
+in lighting her fire. She was a morose and taciturn old woman. I could
+not get from her anything that was interesting. She could tell me
+nothing about her lodger. She gave me to understand all the same that he
+scarcely ever worked, and that he remained for months together without
+opening a book or touching a pen. On the other hand, he walked all night
+up and down his room, given up to his reflections. Sometimes, indeed, he
+spoke aloud. He was very fond of her little grandchild, Katia, above all
+when he knew her name; on her name’s-day&mdash;the day of St. Catherine&mdash;he
+always had a requiem said in the church for some one’s soul. He detested
+receiving visits, and never went out except to give lessons. Even his
+landlady he looked upon with an unfriendly eye when, once a week, she
+came into his room to put it in order.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p><p>During the three years he had passed with her, he had scarcely ever
+spoken to her. I asked Katia if she remembered him. She looked at me in
+silence, and turned weeping to the wall. This man, then, was loved by
+some one! I took away the papers, and passed the day in examining them.
+They were for the most part of no importance, merely children’s
+exercises. At last I came to a rather thick packet, the sheets of which
+were covered with delicate handwriting, which abruptly ceased. It had
+perhaps been forgotten by the writer. It was the narrative&mdash;incoherent
+and fragmentary&mdash;of the ten years Alexander Petrovitch had passed in
+hard labour. This narrative was interrupted, here and there, either by
+anecdotes, or by strange, terrible recollections thrown in convulsively
+as if torn from the writer. I read some of these fragments again and
+again, and I began to doubt whether they had not been written in moments
+of madness; but these memories of the convict prison&mdash;“Recollections of
+the Dead-House,” as he himself called them somewhere in his
+manuscript&mdash;seemed to me not without interest. They revealed quite a new
+world unknown till then; and in the strangeness of his facts, together
+with his singular remarks on this fallen people, there was enough to
+tempt me to go on. I may perhaps be wrong, but I will publish some
+chapters from this narrative, and the public shall judge for itself.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER II.</span> <span class="smaller">THE DEAD-HOUSE</span></h3>
+
+<p>Our prison was at the end of the citadel behind the ramparts. Looking
+through the crevices between the palisade in the hope of seeing
+something, one sees nothing but a little corner of the sky, and a high
+earthwork, covered with the long grass of the steppe. Night and day
+sentries walk to and fro upon it. Then one perceives from the first,
+that whole years will pass during which one will see by the same
+crevices between the palisades, upon the same earthwork, always the same
+sentinels and the same little corner of the sky, not just above the
+prison, but far and far away. Represent to yourself a court-yard, two
+hundred feet long, and one hundred and fifty feet broad, enclosed by an
+irregular hexagonal palisade, formed of stakes thrust deep into the
+earth. So much for the external surroundings of the prison. On one side
+of the palisade is a great gate, solid, and always shut; watched
+perpetually by the sentinels, and never opened, except when the convicts
+go out to work. Beyond this, there are light and liberty, the life of
+free people! Beyond the palisade, one thought of the marvellous world,
+fantastic as a fairy tale. It was not the same on our side. Here, there
+was no resemblance to anything. Habits, customs, laws, were all
+precisely fixed. It was the house of living death. It is this corner
+that I undertake to describe.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p><p>On penetrating into the enclosure one sees a few buildings. On each
+side of a vast court are stretched forth two wooden constructions, made
+of trunks of trees, and only one storey high. These are convicts’
+barracks. Here the prisoners are confined, divided into several classes.
+At the end of the enclosure may be seen a house, which serves as a
+kitchen, divided into two compartments. Behind it is another building,
+which serves at once as cellar, loft, and barn. The centre of the
+enclosure, completely barren, is a large open space. Here the prisoners
+are drawn up in ranks, three times a day. They are identified, and must
+answer to their names, morning, noon, and evening, besides several times
+in the course of the day if the soldiers on guard are suspicious and
+clever at counting. All around, between the palisades and the buildings
+there remains a sufficiently large space, where some of the prisoners
+who are misanthropes, or of a sombre turn of mind, like to walk about
+when they are not at work. There they go turning over their favourite
+thoughts, shielded from all observation.</p>
+
+<p>When I met them during those walks of theirs, I took pleasure in
+observing their sad, deeply-marked countenances, and in guessing their
+thoughts. The favourite occupation of one of the convicts, during the
+moments of liberty left to him from his hard labour, was to count the
+palisades. There were fifteen hundred of them. He had counted them all,
+and knew them nearly by heart. Every one of them represented to him a
+day of confinement; but, counting them daily in this manner, he knew
+exactly the number of days that he had still to pass in the prison. He
+was sincerely happy when he had finished one side of the hexagon; yet he
+had to wait for his liberation many long years. But one learns patience in a prison.</p>
+
+<p>One day I saw a prisoner, who had undergone his punishment, take leave
+of his comrades. He had had twenty years’ hard labour. More than one
+convict remembered seeing him arrive, quite young, careless, thinking
+neither of his crime nor of his punishment. He was now an old man with
+gray hairs, with a sad and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> morose countenance. He walked in silence
+through our six barracks. When he entered each of them he prayed before
+the holy image, made a deep bow to his former companions, and begged
+them not to keep a bad recollection of him.</p>
+
+<p>I also remember one evening, a prisoner, who had been formerly a
+well-to-do Siberian peasant, so called. Six years before he had had news
+of his wife’s remarrying, which had caused him great pain. That very
+evening she had come to the prison, and had asked for him in order to
+make him a present! They talked together for two minutes, wept together,
+and then separated never to meet again. I saw the expression of this
+prisoner’s countenance when he re-entered the barracks. There, indeed,
+one learns to support everything.</p>
+
+<p>When darkness set in we had to re-enter the barrack, where we were shut
+up for all the night. It was always painful for me to leave the
+court-yard for the barrack. Think of a long, low, stifling room,
+scarcely lighted by tallow candles, and full of heavy and disgusting
+odours. I cannot now understand how I lived there for ten entire years.
+My camp bedstead was made of three boards. This was the only place in
+the room that belonged to me. In one single room we herded together,
+more than thirty men. It was, above all, no wonder that we were shut up
+early. Four hours at least passed before every one was asleep, and,
+until then, there was a tumult and uproar of laughter, oaths, rattling
+of chains, a poisonous vapour of thick smoke; a confusion of shaved
+heads, stigmatised foreheads, and ragged clothes disgustingly filthy.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, man is a pliable animal&mdash;he must be so defined&mdash;a being who gets
+accustomed to everything! That would be, perhaps, the best definition
+that could be given of him. There were altogether two hundred and fifty
+of us in the same prison. This number was almost invariably the same.
+Whenever some of them had undergone their punishment, other criminals
+arrived, and a few of them died. Among them there were all sorts of
+people. I believe that each region of Russia had furnished its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+representatives. There were foreigners there, and even mountaineers from the Caucasus.</p>
+
+<p>All these people were divided into different classes, according to the
+importance of the crime; and consequently the duration of the punishment
+for the crime, whatever it might be, was there represented. The
+population of the prison was composed for the most part of men condemned
+to hard labour of the civil class&mdash;“strongly condemned,” as the
+prisoners used to say. They were criminals deprived of all civil rights,
+men rejected by society, vomited forth by it, and whose faces were
+marked by the iron to testify eternally to their disgrace. They were
+incarcerated for different periods of time, varying from eight to ten
+years. At the expiration of their punishment they were sent to the
+Siberian districts in the character of colonists.</p>
+
+<p>As to the criminals of the military section, they were not deprived of
+their civil rights&mdash;as is generally the case in Russian disciplinary
+companies&mdash;but were punished for a relatively short period. As soon as
+they had undergone their punishment they had to return to the place
+whence they had come, and became soldiers in the battalions of the
+Siberian Line.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p>Many of them came back to us afterwards, for serious crimes, this time
+not for a small number of years, but for twenty at least. They then
+formed part of the section called “for perpetuity.” Nevertheless, the
+perpetuals were not deprived of their right. There was another section
+sufficiently numerous, composed of the worst malefactors, nearly all
+veterans in crime, and which was called the special section. There were
+sent convicts from all the Russias. They looked upon one another with
+reason as imprisoned for ever, for the term of their confinement had not
+been indicated. The law required them to receive double and treble
+tasks. They remained in prison until work of the most painful character
+had to be undertaken in Siberia.</p>
+
+<p>“You are only here for a fixed time,” they said to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> other convicts;
+“we, on the contrary, are here for all our life.”</p>
+
+<p>I have heard that this section has since been abolished. At the same
+time, civil convicts are kept apart, in order that the military convicts
+may be organised by themselves into a homogeneous “disciplinary
+company.” The administration, too, has naturally been changed;
+consequently what I describe are the customs and practices of another
+time, and of things which have since been abolished. Yes, it was a long
+time ago; it seems to me that it is all a dream. I remember entering the
+convict prison one December evening, as night was falling. The convicts
+were returning from work. The roll-call was about to be made. An under
+officer with large moustaches opened to me the gate of this strange
+house, where I was to remain so many years, to endure so many emotions,
+and of which I could not form even an approximate idea, if I had not
+gone through them. Thus, for example, could I ever have imagined the
+poignant and terrible suffering of never being alone even for one minute
+during ten years? Working under escort in the barracks together with two
+hundred “companions;” never alone, never!</p>
+
+<p>However, I was obliged to get accustomed to it. Among them there were
+murderers by imprudence, and murderers by profession, simple thieves,
+masters in the art of finding money in the pockets of the passers-by, or
+of wiping off no matter what from the table. It would have been
+difficult, however, to say why and how certain prisoners found
+themselves among the convicts. Each of them had his history, confused
+and heavy, painful as the morning after a debauch.</p>
+
+<p>The convicts, as a rule, spoke very little of their past life, which
+they did not like to think of. They endeavoured, even, to dismiss it
+from their memory.</p>
+
+<p>Amongst my companions of the chain I have known murderers who were so
+gay and so free from care, that one might have made a bet that their
+conscience never made them the least reproach. But there were also men
+of sombre countenance who remained almost always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> silent. It was very
+rarely any one told his history. This sort of thing was not the fashion.
+Let us say at once that it was not received. Sometimes, however, from
+time to time, for the sake of change, a prisoner used to tell his life
+to another prisoner, who would listen coldly to the narrative. No one,
+to tell the truth, could have said anything to astonish his neighbour.
+“We are not ignoramuses,” they would sometimes say with singular pride.</p>
+
+<p>I remember one day a ruffian who had got drunk&mdash;it was sometimes
+possible for the convicts to get drink&mdash;relating how he had killed and
+cut up a child of five. He had first tempted the child with a plaything,
+and then taking it to a loft, had cut it up to pieces. The entire
+barrack, which, generally speaking, laughed at his jokes, uttered one
+unanimous cry. The ruffian was obliged to be silent. But if the convicts
+had interrupted him, it was not by any means because his recital had
+caused their indignation, but because it was not allowed to speak of such things.</p>
+
+<p>I must here observe that the convicts possessed a certain degree of
+instruction. Half of them, if not more, knew how to read and write.
+Where in Russia, in no matter what population, could two hundred and
+fifty men be found able to read and write? Later on I have heard people
+say, and conclude on the strength of these abuses, that education
+demoralises the people. This is a mistake. Education has nothing
+whatever to do with moral deterioration. It must be admitted,
+nevertheless, that it develops a resolute spirit among the people. But
+this is far from being a defect.</p>
+
+<p>Each section had a different costume. The uniform of one was a cloth
+vest, half brown and half gray, and trousers with one leg brown, the
+other gray. One day while we were at work, a little girl who sold scones
+of white bread came towards the convicts. She looked at them for a time
+and then burst into a laugh. “Oh, how ugly they are!” she cried; “they
+have not even enough gray cloth or brown cloth to make their clothes.”
+Every convict wore a vest made of gray cloth, except the sleeves, which
+were brown. Their heads, too, were shaved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> in different styles. The
+crown was bared sometimes longitudinally, sometimes latitudinally, from
+the nape of the neck to the forehead, or from one ear to another.</p>
+
+<p>This strange family had a general likeness so pronounced that it could
+be recognised at a glance.</p>
+
+<p>Even the most striking personalities, those who dominated involuntarily
+the other convicts, could not help taking the general tone of the house.</p>
+
+<p>Of the convicts&mdash;with the exception of a few who enjoyed childish
+gaiety, and who by that alone drew upon themselves general contempt&mdash;all
+the convicts were morose, envious, frightfully vain, presumptuous,
+susceptible, and excessively ceremonious. To be astonished at nothing
+was in their eyes the first and indispensable quality. Accordingly,
+their first aim was to bear themselves with dignity. But often the most
+composed demeanour gave way with the rapidity of lightning. With the
+basest humility some, however, possessed genuine strength; these were
+naturally all sincere. But strangely enough, they were for the most part
+excessively and morbidly vain. Vanity was always their salient quality.</p>
+
+<p>The majority of the prisoners were depraved and perverted, so that
+calumnies and scandal rained amongst them like hail. Our life was a
+constant hell, a perpetual damnation; but no one would have dared to
+raise a voice against the internal regulations of the prison, or against
+established usages. Accordingly, willingly or unwillingly, they had to
+be submitted to. Certain indomitable characters yielded with difficulty,
+but they yielded all the same. Prisoners who when at liberty had gone
+beyond all measure, who, urged by their over-excited vanity, had
+committed frightful crimes unconsciously, as if in a delirium, and had
+been the terror of entire towns, were put down in a very short time by
+the system of our prison. The “new man,” when he began to reconnoitre,
+soon found that he could astonish no one, and insensibly he submitted,
+took the general tone, and assumed a sort of personal dignity which
+almost every convict maintained, just as if the denomination of convict
+had been a title of honour. Not the least sign of shame or of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+repentance, but a kind of external submission which seemed to have been
+reasoned out as the line of conduct to be pursued. “We are lost men,”
+they said to themselves. “We were unable to live in liberty; we must now
+go to Green Street.”<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p>
+
+<p>“You would not obey your father and mother; you will now obey thongs of
+leather.” “The man who would not sow must now break stones.”</p>
+
+<p>These things were said, and repeated in the way of morality, as
+sentences and proverbs, but without any one taking them seriously. They
+were but words in the air. There was not one man among them who admitted
+his iniquity. Let a stranger not a convict endeavour to reproach him
+with his crime, and the insults directed against him would be endless.
+And how refined are convicts in the matter of insults! They insult
+delicately, like artists; insult with the most delicate science. They
+endeavour not so much to offend by the expression as by the meaning, the
+spirit of an envenomed phrase. Their incessant quarrels developed
+greatly this special art.</p>
+
+<p>As they only worked under the threat of an immense stick, they were idle
+and depraved. Those who were not already corrupt when they arrived at
+the convict establishment, became perverted very soon. Brought together
+in spite of themselves, they were perfect strangers to one another. “The
+devil has worn out three pairs of sandals before he got us together,”
+they would say. Intrigues, calumnies, scandal of all kinds, envy, and
+hatred reigned above everything else. In this life of sloth, no ordinary
+spiteful tongue could make head against these murderers, with insults
+constantly in their mouths.</p>
+
+<p>As I said before, there were found among them men of open character,
+resolute, intrepid, accustomed to self-command. These were held
+involuntarily in esteem. Although they were very jealous of their
+reputation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> they endeavoured to annoy no one, and never insulted one
+another without a motive. Their conduct was on all points full of
+dignity. They were rational, and almost always obedient, not by
+principle, or from any respect for duty, but as if in virtue of a mutual
+convention between themselves and the administration&mdash;a convention of
+which the advantages were plain enough.</p>
+
+<p>The officials, moreover, behaved prudently towards them. I remember that
+one prisoner of the resolute and intrepid class, known to possess the
+instincts of a wild beast, was summoned one day to be whipped. It was
+during the summer, no work was being done. The Adjutant, the direct and
+immediate chief of the convict prison, was in the orderly-room, by the
+side of the principal entrance, ready to assist at the punishment. This
+Major was a fatal being for the prisoners, whom he had brought to such a
+state that they trembled before him. Severe to the point of insanity,
+“he threw himself upon them,” to use their expression. But it was above
+all that his look, as penetrating as that of a lynx, was feared. It was
+impossible to conceal anything from him. He saw, so to say, without
+looking. On entering the prison, he knew at once what was being done.
+Accordingly, the convicts, one and all, called him the man with the
+eight eyes. His system was bad, for it had the effect of irritating men
+who were already irascible. But for the Commandant, a well-bred and
+reasonable man, who moderated the savage onslaughts of the Major, the
+latter would have caused sad misfortunes by his bad administration. I do
+not understand how he managed to retire from the service safe and sound.
+It is true that he left after being called before a court-martial.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner turned pale when he was called; generally speaking, he lay
+down courageously, and without uttering a word, to receive the terrible
+rods, after which he got up and shook himself. He bore the misfortune
+calmly, philosophically, it is true, though he was never punished
+carelessly, nor without all sorts of precautions. But this time he
+considered himself innocent. He turned pale, and as he walked quietly
+towards the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> escort of soldiers he managed to conceal in his sleeve a
+shoemaker’s awl. The prisoners were severely forbidden to carry sharp
+instruments about them. Examinations were frequently, minutely, and
+unexpectedly made, and all infractions of the rule were severely
+punished. But as it is difficult to take away from the criminal what he
+is determined to conceal, and as, moreover, sharp instruments are
+necessarily used in the prison, they were never destroyed. If the
+official succeeded in taking them away from the convicts, the latter
+procured new ones very soon.</p>
+
+<p>On the occasion in question, all the convicts had now thrown themselves
+against the palisade, with palpitating hearts, to look through the
+crevices. It was known that this time Petroff would not allow himself to
+be flogged, that the end of the Major had come. But at the critical
+moment the latter got into his carriage, and went away, leaving the
+direction of the punishment to a subaltern. “God has saved him!” said
+the convicts. As for Petroff, he underwent his punishment quietly. Once
+the Major had gone, his anger fell. The prisoner is submissive and
+obedient to a certain point, but there is a limit which must not be
+crossed. Nothing is more curious than these strange outbursts of
+disobedience and rage. Often a man who has supported for many years the
+most cruel punishment, will revolt for a trifle, for nothing at all. He
+might pass for a madman; that, in fact, is what is said of him.</p>
+
+<p>I have already said that during many years I never remarked the least
+sign of repentance, not even the slightest uneasiness with regard to the
+crime committed; and that most of the convicts considered neither honour
+nor conscience, holding that they had a right to act as they thought
+fit. Certainly vanity, evil examples, deceitfulness, and false shame
+were responsible for much. On the other hand, who can claim to have
+sounded the depths of these hearts, given over to perdition, and to have
+found them closed to all light? It would seem all the same that during
+so many years I ought to have been able to notice some indication, even
+the most fugitive,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> of some regret, some moral suffering. I positively
+saw nothing of the kind. With ready-made opinions one cannot judge of
+crime. Its philosophy is a little more complicated than people think. It
+is acknowledged that neither convict prisons, nor the hulks, nor any
+system of hard labour ever cured a criminal. These forms of chastisement
+only punish him and reassure society against the offences he might
+commit. Confinement, regulation, and excessive work have no effect but
+to develop with these men profound hatred, a thirst for forbidden
+enjoyment, and frightful recalcitrations. On the other hand I am
+convinced that the celebrated cellular system gives results which are
+specious and deceitful. It deprives a criminal of his force, of his
+energy, enervates his soul by weakening and frightening it, and at last
+exhibits a dried up mummy as a model of repentance and amendment.</p>
+
+<p>The criminal who has revolted against society, hates it, and considers
+himself in the right; society was wrong, not he. Has he not, moreover,
+undergone his punishment? Accordingly he is absolved, acquitted in his
+own eyes. In spite of different opinions, every one will acknowledge
+that there are crimes which everywhere, always, under no matter what
+legislation, are beyond discussion crimes, and should be regarded as
+such as long as man is man. It is only at the convict prison that I have
+heard related, with a childish, unrestrained laugh, the strangest, most
+atrocious offences. I shall never forget a certain parricide, formerly a
+nobleman and a public functionary. He had given great grief to his
+father&mdash;a true prodigal son. The old man endeavoured in vain to restrain
+him by remonstrance on the fatal slope down which he was sliding. As he
+was loaded with debts, and his father was suspected of having, besides
+an estate, a sum of ready money, he killed him in order to enter more
+quickly into his inheritance. This crime was not discovered until a
+month afterwards. During all this time the murderer, who meanwhile had
+informed the police of his father’s disappearance, continued his
+debauches. At last, during his absence, the police discovered the old
+man’s corpse in a drain. The gray head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> was severed from the trunk, but
+replaced in its original position. The body was entirely dressed.
+Beneath, as if by derision, the assassin had placed a cushion.</p>
+
+<p>The young man confessed nothing. He was degraded, deprived of his
+nobiliary privileges, and condemned to twenty years’ hard labour. As
+long as I knew him I always found him to be careless of his position. He
+was the most light-minded, inconsiderate man that I ever met, although
+he was far from being a fool. I never observed in him any great tendency
+to cruelty. The other convicts despised him, not on account of his
+crime, of which there was never any question, but because he was without
+dignity. He sometimes spoke of his father. One day for instance,
+boasting of the hereditary good health of his family, he said: “My
+father, for example, until his death was never ill.”</p>
+
+<p>Animal insensibility carried to such a point is most remarkable&mdash;it is,
+indeed, phenomenal. There must have been in this case an organic defect
+in the man, some physical and moral monstrosity unknown hitherto to
+science, and not simply crime. I naturally did not believe in so
+atrocious a crime; but people of the same town as himself, who knew all
+the details of his history, related it to me. The facts were so clear
+that it would have been madness not to accept them. The prisoners once
+heard him cry out during his sleep: “Hold him! hold him! Cut his head
+off, his head, his head!”</p>
+
+<p>Nearly all the convicts dreamed aloud, or were delirious in their sleep.
+Insults, words of slang, knives, hatchets, seemed constantly present in
+their dreams. “We are crushed!” they would say; “we are without
+entrails; that is why we shriek in the night.”</p>
+
+<p>Hard labour in our fortress was not an occupation, but an obligation.
+The prisoners accomplished their task, they worked the number of hours
+fixed by the law, and then returned to the prison. They hated their
+liberty. If the convict did not do some work on his own account
+voluntarily, it would be impossible for him to support his confinement.
+How could these persons, all strongly constituted, who had lived
+sumptuously, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> desired so to live again, who had been brought
+together against their will, after society had cast them up&mdash;how could
+they live in a normal and natural manner? Man cannot exist without work,
+without legal, natural property. Depart from these conditions, and he
+becomes perverted and changed into a wild beast. Accordingly, every
+convict, through natural requirements and by the instinct of
+self-preservation, had a trade&mdash;an occupation of some kind.</p>
+
+<p>The long days of summer were taken up almost entirely by our hard
+labour. The night was so short that we had only just time to sleep. It
+was not the same in winter. According to the regulations, the prisoners
+had to be shut up in the barracks at nightfall. What was to be done
+during these long, sad evenings but work? Consequently each barrack,
+though locked and bolted, assumed the appearance of a large workshop.
+The work was not, it is true, strictly forbidden, but it was forbidden
+to have tools, without which work is evidently impossible. But we
+laboured in secret, and the administration seemed to shut its eyes. Many
+prisoners arrived without knowing how to make use of their ten fingers;
+but they learnt a trade from some of their companions, and became
+excellent workmen.</p>
+
+<p>We had among us cobblers, bootmakers, tailors, masons, locksmiths, and
+gilders. A Jew named Esau Boumstein was at the same time a jeweller and
+a usurer. Every one worked, and thus gained a few pence&mdash;for many orders
+came from the town. Money is a tangible resonant liberty, inestimable
+for a man entirely deprived of true liberty. If he feels some money in
+his pocket, he consoles himself a little, even though he cannot spend
+it&mdash;but one can always and everywhere spend money, the more so as
+forbidden fruit is doubly sweet. One can often buy spirits in the
+convict prison. Although pipes are severely forbidden, every one smokes.
+Money and tobacco save the convicts from the scurvy, as work saves them
+from crime&mdash;for without work they would mutually have destroyed one
+another like spiders shut up in a close bottle. Work and money were all
+the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> forbidden. Often during the night severe examinations were
+made, during which everything that was not legally authorised was
+confiscated. However successfully the little hoards had been concealed,
+they were sometimes discovered. That was one of the reasons why they
+were not kept very long. They were exchanged as soon as possible for
+drink, which explains how it happened that spirits penetrated into the
+convict prison. The delinquent was not only deprived of his hoard, but
+was also cruelly flogged.</p>
+
+<p>A short time after each examination the convicts procured again the
+objects which had been confiscated, and everything went on as before.
+The administration knew it; and although the condition of the convicts
+was a good deal like that of the inhabitants of Vesuvius, they never
+murmured at the punishment inflicted for these peccadilloes. Those who
+had no manual skill did business somehow or other. The modes of buying
+and selling were original enough. Things changed hands which no one
+expected a convict would ever have thought of selling or buying, or even
+of regarding as of any value whatever. The least rag had its value, and
+might be turned to account. In consequence, however, of the poverty of
+the convicts, money acquired in their eyes a superior value to that
+really belonging to it.</p>
+
+<p>Long and painful tasks, sometimes of a very complicated kind, brought
+back a few kopecks. Several of the prisoners lent by the week, and did
+good business that way. The prisoner who was ruined and insolvent
+carried to the usurer the few things belonging to him and pledged them
+for some halfpence, which were lent to him at a fabulous rate of
+interest. If he did not redeem them at the fixed time the usurer sold
+them pitilessly by auction, and without the least delay.</p>
+
+<p>Usury flourished so well in our convict prison that money was lent even
+on things belonging to the Government: linen, boots, etc.&mdash;things that
+were wanted at every moment. When the lender accepted such pledges the
+affair took an unexpected turn. The proprietor went,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> immediately after
+he had received his money, and told the under officer&mdash;chief
+superintendent of the convict prison&mdash;that objects belonging to the
+State were being concealed, on which everything was taken away from the
+usurer without even the formality of a report to the superior
+administration. But never was there any quarrel&mdash;and that is very
+curious indeed&mdash;between the usurer and the owner. The first gave up in
+silence, with a morose air, the things demanded from him, as if he had
+been waiting for the request. Sometimes, perhaps, he confessed to
+himself that, in the place of the borrower, he would not have acted
+differently. Accordingly, if he was insulted after this restitution, it
+was less from hatred than simply as a matter of conscience.</p>
+
+<p>The convicts robbed one another without shame. Each prisoner had his
+little box fitted with a padlock, in which he kept the things entrusted
+to him by the administration. Although these boxes were authorised, that
+did not prevent them from being broken into. The reader can easily
+imagine what clever thieves were found among us. A prisoner who was
+sincerely devoted to me&mdash;I say it without boasting&mdash;stole my Bible from
+me, the only book allowed in the convict prison. He told me of it the
+same day, not from repentance, but because he pitied me when he saw me
+looking for it everywhere. We had among our companions of the chain
+several convicts called “innkeepers,” who sold spirits, and became
+comparatively rich by doing so. I shall speak of this further on, for
+the liquor traffic deserves special study.</p>
+
+<p>A great number of prisoners had been deported for smuggling, which
+explains how it was that drink was brought secretly into the convict
+prison, under so severe a surveillance as ours was. In passing it may be
+remarked that smuggling is an offence apart. Would it be believed that
+money, the solid profit from the affair, possesses often only secondary
+importance for the smuggler? It is all the same an authentic fact. He
+works by vocation. In his style he is a poet. He risks all he possesses,
+exposes himself to terrible dangers, intrigues,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> invents, gets out of a
+scrape, and brings everything to a happy end by a sort of inspiration.
+This passion is as violent as that of play.</p>
+
+<p>I knew a prisoner of colossal stature who was the mildest, the most
+peaceable, and most manageable man it was possible to see. We often
+asked one another how he had been deported. He had such a calm, sociable
+character, that during the whole time that he passed at the convict
+prison, he never quarrelled with any one. Born in Western Russia, where
+he lived on the frontier, he had been sent to hard labour for smuggling.
+Naturally, then, he could not resist his desire to smuggle spirits into
+the prison. How many times was he not punished for it, and heaven knows
+how much he feared the rods. This dangerous trade brought him in but
+slender profits. It was the speculator who got rich at his expense. Each
+time he was punished he wept like an old woman, and swore by all that
+was holy that he would never be caught at such things again. He kept his
+vow for an entire month, but he ended by yielding once more to his
+passion. Thanks to these amateurs of smuggling, spirits were always to
+be had in the convict prison.</p>
+
+<p>Another source of income which, without enriching the prisoners, was
+constantly and beneficently turned to account, was alms-giving. The
+upper classes of our Russian society do not know to what an extent
+merchants, shopkeepers, and our people generally, commiserate the
+“unfortunate!”<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Alms were always forthcoming, and consisted generally
+of little white loaves, sometimes of money, but very rarely. Without
+alms, the existence of the convicts, and above all that of the accused,
+who are badly fed, would be too painful. These alms are shared equally
+between all the prisoners. If the gifts are not sufficient, the little
+loaves are divided into halves, and sometimes into six pieces, so that
+each convict may have his share. I remember the first alms, a small
+piece of money, that I received. A short time after my arrival, one
+morning, as I was coming back from work with a soldier<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> escort, I met a
+mother and her daughter, a child of ten, as beautiful as an angel. I had
+already seen them once before.</p>
+
+<p>The mother was the widow of a poor soldier, who, while still young, had
+been sentenced by a court-martial, and had died in the infirmary of the
+convict prison while I was there. They wept hot tears when they came to
+bid him good-bye. On seeing me the little girl blushed, and murmured a
+few words into her mother’s ear, who stopped, and took from a basket a
+kopeck which she gave to the little girl. The little girl ran after me.</p>
+
+<p>“Here, poor man,” she said, “take this in the name of Christ.” I took
+the money which she slipped into my hand. The little girl returned
+joyfully to her mother. I preserved that kopeck a considerable time.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Goriantchikoff became himself a soldier in Siberia, when he
+had finished his term of imprisonment.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> An allusion to the two rows of soldiers, armed with green
+rods, between which convicts condemned to corporal punishment had and
+still have to pass. But this punishment now exists only for convicts
+deprived of all their civil rights. This subject will be returned to
+further on.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Men condemned to hard labour, and exiles generally, are so
+called by the Russian peasantry.</p></div></div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER III.</span> <span class="smaller">FIRST IMPRESSIONS</span></h3>
+
+<p>During the first weeks, and naturally the early part of my imprisonment,
+made a deep impression on my imagination. The following years on the
+other hand are all mixed up together, and leave but a confused
+recollection. Certain epochs of this life are even effaced from my
+memory. I have kept one general impression of it, always the same;
+painful, monotonous, stifling. What I saw in experience during the first
+days of my imprisonment seems to me as if it had all taken place
+yesterday. Such was sure to be the case. I remember perfectly that in
+the first place this life astonished me by the very fact that it offered
+nothing particular, nothing extraordinary, or to express myself better,
+nothing unexpected. It was not until later on, when I had lived some
+time in the convict prison, that I understood all that was exceptional
+and unforeseen in such a life. I was astonished at the discovery. I will
+avow that this astonishment remained with me throughout my term of
+punishment. I could not decidedly reconcile myself to this existence.</p>
+
+<p>First of all, I experienced an invincible repugnance on arriving; but
+oddly enough the life seemed to me less painful than I had imagined on the journey.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, prisoners, though embarrassed by their irons went to and fro in
+the prison freely enough. They insulted one another, sang, worked,
+smoked pipes, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> drank spirits. There were not many drinkers all the
+same. There were also regular card parties during the night. The labour
+did not seem to me very trying; I fancied that it could not be the real
+“hard labour.” I did not understand till long afterwards why this labour
+was really hard and excessive. It was less by reason of its difficulty,
+than because it was forced, imposed, obligatory; and it was only done
+through fear of the stick. The peasant works certainly harder than the
+convict, for, during the summer, he works night and day. But it is in
+his own interest that he fatigues himself. His aim is reasonable, so
+that he suffers less than the convict who performs hard labour from
+which he derives no profit. It once came into my head that if it were
+desired to reduce a man to nothing&mdash;to punish him atrociously, to crush
+him in such a manner that the most hardened murderer would tremble
+before such a punishment, and take fright beforehand&mdash;it would be
+necessary to give to his work a character of complete uselessness, even to absurdity.</p>
+
+<p>Hard labour, as it is now carried on, presents no interest to the
+convict; but it has its utility. The convict makes bricks, digs the
+earth, builds; and all his occupations have a meaning and an end.
+Sometimes, even the prisoner takes an interest in what he is doing. He
+then wishes to work more skilfully, more advantageously. But let him be
+constrained to pour water from one vessel into another, or to transport
+a quantity of earth from one place to another, in order to perform the
+contrary operation immediately afterwards, then I am persuaded that at
+the end of a few days the prisoner would strangle himself or commit a
+thousand crimes, punishable with death, rather than live in such an
+abject condition and endure such torments. It is evident that such
+punishment would be rather a torture, an atrocious vengeance, than a
+correction. It would be absurd, for it would have no natural end.</p>
+
+<p>I did not, however, arrive until the winter&mdash;in the month of
+December&mdash;and the labour was then unimportant in our fortress. I had no
+idea of the summer labour&mdash;five times as fatiguing. The prisoners,
+during<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> the winter season, broke up on the Irtitch some old boats
+belonging to the Government, found occupation in the workshops, took
+away the snow blown by hurricanes against the buildings, or burned and
+pounded alabaster. As the day was very short, the work ceased at an
+early hour, and every one returned to the convict prison, where there
+was scarcely anything to do, except the supplementary work which the
+convicts did for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely a third of the convicts worked seriously, the others idled
+their time and wandered about without aim in the barracks, scheming and
+insulting one another. Those who had a little money got drunk on
+spirits, or lost what they had saved at gambling. And all this from
+idleness, weariness, and want of something to do.</p>
+
+<p>I learned, moreover, to know one suffering which is perhaps the
+sharpest, the most painful that can be experienced in a house of
+detention apart from laws and liberty. I mean, “forced cohabitation.”
+Cohabitation is more or less forced everywhere and always; but nowhere
+is it so horrible as in a prison. There are men there with whom no one
+would consent to live. I am certain that every convict, unconsciously
+perhaps, has suffered from this.</p>
+
+<p>The food of the prisoners seemed to me passable; some declared even that
+it was incomparably better than in any Russian prison. I cannot certify
+to this, for I was never in prison anywhere else. Many of us, besides,
+were allowed to procure whatever nourishment we wanted. As fresh meat
+cost only three kopecks a pound, those who always had money allowed
+themselves the luxury of eating it. The majority of the prisoners were
+contented with the regular ration.</p>
+
+<p>When they praised the diet of the convict prison, they were thinking
+only of the bread, which was distributed at the rate of so much per
+room, and not individually or by weight. This last condition would have
+frightened the convicts, for a third of them at least would have
+constantly suffered from hunger; while, with the system in vogue, every
+one was satisfied. Our bread was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>particularly nice, and was even
+renowned in the town. Its good quality was attributed to the excellent
+construction of the prison ovens. As for our cabbage-soup, it was cooked
+and thickened with flour. It had not an appetising appearance. On
+working days it was clear and thin; but what particularly disgusted me
+was the way it was served. The prisoners, however, paid no attention to that.</p>
+
+<p>During the three days that followed my arrival, I did not go to work.
+Some respite was always given to prisoners just arrived, in order to
+allow them to recover from their fatigue. The second day I had to go out
+of the convict prison in order to be ironed. My chain was not of the
+regulation pattern; it was composed of rings, which gave forth a clear
+sound, so I heard other convicts say. I had to wear them externally over
+my clothes, whereas my companions had chains formed, not of rings, but
+of four links, as thick as the finger, and fastened together by three
+links which were worn beneath the trousers. To the central ring was
+fastened a strip of leather, tied in its turn to a girdle fastened over the shirt.</p>
+
+<p>I can see again the first morning that I passed in the convict prison.
+The drum sounded in the orderly room, near the principal entrance. Ten
+minutes afterwards the under officer opened the barracks. The convicts
+woke up one after another and rose trembling with cold from their plank
+bedsteads, by the dull light of a tallow candle. Nearly all of them were
+morose; they yawned and stretched themselves. Their foreheads, marked by
+the iron, were contracted. Some made the sign of the Cross; others began
+to talk nonsense. The cold air from outside rushed in as soon as the
+door was opened. Then the prisoners hurried round the pails full of
+water, one after another, and took water in their mouths, and, letting
+it out into their hands, washed their faces. Those pails had been
+brought in the night before by a prisoner specially appointed, according
+to the rules, to clean the barracks.</p>
+
+<p>The convicts chose him themselves. He did not work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> with the others, for
+it was his business to examine the camp bedsteads and the floors, to
+fetch and carry water. This water served in the morning for the
+prisoners’ ablutions, and the rest during the day for ordinary drinking.
+That very morning there were disputes on the subject of one of the pitchers.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing there with your marked forehead?” grumbled one of
+the prisoners, tall, dry, and sallow.</p>
+
+<p>He attracted attention by the strange protuberances with which his skull
+was covered. He pushed against another convict round and small, with a
+lively rubicund countenance.</p>
+
+<p>“Just wait.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you crying out about? You know that a fine must be paid when
+the others are kept waiting. Off with you. What a monument, my brethren!”</p>
+
+<p>“A little calf,” he went on muttering. “See, the white bread of the
+prison has fattened him.”</p>
+
+<p>“For what do you take yourself? A fine bird, indeed.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are about right.”</p>
+
+<p>“What bird do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t require to be told.”</p>
+
+<p>“How so?”</p>
+
+<p>“Find out.”</p>
+
+<p>They devoured one another with their eyes. The little man, waiting for a
+reply, with clenched fists, was apparently ready to fight. I thought
+that an encounter would take place. It was all quite new to me;
+accordingly I watched the scene with curiosity. Later on I learnt that
+such quarrels were very innocent, that they served for entertainment.
+Like an amusing comedy, it scarcely ever ended in blows. This
+characteristic plainly informed me of the manners of the prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>The tall prisoner remained calm and majestic. He felt that some answer
+was expected from him, if he was not to be dishonoured, covered with
+ridicule. It was necessary for him to show that he was a wonderful bird,
+a personage. Accordingly, he cast a side look on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> adversary,
+endeavouring, with inexpressible contempt, to irritate him by looking at
+him over his shoulders, up and down, as he would have done with an
+insect. At last the little fat man was so irritated that he would have
+thrown himself upon his adversary had not his companions surrounded the
+combatants to prevent a serious quarrel from taking place.</p>
+
+<p>“Fight with your fists, not with your tongues,” cried a spectator from a
+corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>“No, hold them,” answered another, “they are going to fight. We are fine
+fellows, one against seven is our style.”</p>
+
+<p>Fine fighting men! One was here for having sneaked a pound of bread, the
+other is a pot-stealer; he was whipped by the executioner for stealing a
+pot of curdled milk from an old woman.</p>
+
+<p>“Enough, keep quiet,” cried a retired soldier, whose business it was to
+keep order in the barrack, and who slept in a corner of the room on a
+bedstead of his own.</p>
+
+<p>“Water, my children, water for Nevalid Petrovitch, water for our little
+brother, who has just woke up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your brother! Am I your brother? Did we ever drink a roublesworth of
+spirits together?” muttered the old soldier as he passed his arms
+through the sleeves of his great-coat.</p>
+
+<p>The roll was about to be called, for it was already late. The prisoners
+were hurrying towards the kitchen. They had to put on their pelisses,
+and were to receive in their bi-coloured caps the bread which one of the
+cooks&mdash;one of the bakers, that is to say&mdash;was distributing among them.
+These cooks, like those who did the household work, were chosen by the
+prisoners themselves. There were two for the kitchen, making four in all
+for the convict prison. They had at their disposal the only
+kitchen-knife authorised in the prison, which was used for cutting up
+the bread and meat. The prisoners arranged themselves in groups around
+the tables as best they could in caps and pelisses, with leather girdles
+round their waists, all ready to begin work. Some of the convicts had
+kvas before them, in which they steeped pieces of bread. The noise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> was
+insupportable. Many of the convicts, however, were talking together in
+corners with a steady, tranquil air.</p>
+
+<p>“Good-morning and good appetite, Father Antonitch,” said a young
+prisoner, sitting down by the side of an old man, who had lost his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>“If you are not joking, well, good-morning,” said the latter, without
+raising his eyes, and endeavouring to masticate a piece of bread with
+his toothless gums.</p>
+
+<p>“I declare I fancied you were dead, Antonitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“Die first, I will follow you.”</p>
+
+<p>I sat down beside them. On my right two convicts were conversing with an
+attempt at dignity.</p>
+
+<p>“I am not likely to be robbed,” said one of them. “I am more afraid of
+stealing myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“It would not be a good idea to rob me. The devil! I should pay the man out.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what would you do, you are only a convict? We have no other name.
+You will see that she will rob you, the wretch, without even saying,
+‘Thank you.’ The money I gave her was wasted. Just fancy, she was here a
+few days ago! Where were we to go? Shall I ask permission to go into the
+house of Theodore, the executioner? He has still his house in the
+suburb, the one he bought from that Solomon, you know, that scurvy Jew
+who hung himself not long since.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I know him, the one who sold liquor here three years ago, and who
+was called Grichka&mdash;the secret-drinking shop.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>All</i> brag. You don’t know. In the first place it is another drinking
+shop.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean, another? You don’t know what you are talking about. I
+will bring you as many witnesses as you like.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you will bring them, will you? Who are you? Do you know to whom you are speaking?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, indeed.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have often thrashed you, though I don’t boast of it. Do not give
+yourself airs then.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have thrashed me? The man who will thrash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> me is not yet born; and
+the man who did thrash me is six feet beneath the ground.”</p>
+
+<p>“Plague-stricken rascal of Bender?”</p>
+
+<p>“May the Siberian leprosy devour you with ulcers!”</p>
+
+<p>“May a chopper cleave your dog of a head.”</p>
+
+<p>Insults were falling about like rain.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, now, they are going to fight. When men have not been able to
+conduct themselves properly they should keep silent. They are too glad
+to come and eat the Government bread, the rascals!”</p>
+
+<p>They were soon separated. Let them fight with the tongue as much as they
+wish. That is permitted. It is a diversion at the service of every one;
+but no blows. It is, indeed, only in extraordinary cases that blows were
+exchanged. If a fight took place, information was given to the Major,
+who ordered an inquiry or directed one himself; and then woe to the
+convicts. Accordingly they set their faces against anything like a
+serious quarrel; besides, they insulted one another chiefly to pass the
+time, as an oratorical exercise. They get excited; the quarrel takes a
+furious, ferocious character; they seem about to slaughter one another.
+Nothing of the kind takes place. As soon as their anger has reached a
+certain pitch they separate.</p>
+
+<p>That astonished me much, and if I relate some of the conversations
+between the convicts, I do so with a purpose. Could I have imagined that
+people could have insulted one another for pleasure, that they could
+find enjoyment in it?</p>
+
+<p>We must not forget the gratification of vanity. A dialectician, who
+knows how to insult artistically, is respected. A little more, and he
+would be applauded like an actor.</p>
+
+<p>Already, the night before, I noticed some glances in my direction. On
+the other hand, several convicts hung around me as if they had suspected
+that I had brought money with me. They endeavoured to get into my good
+graces by teaching me how to carry my irons without being incommoded.
+They also gave me&mdash;of course in return for money&mdash;a box with a lock, in
+order to keep safe the things which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> had been entrusted to me by the
+administration, and the few shirts that I had been allowed to bring with
+me to the convict prison. Not later than next morning these same
+prisoners stole my box, and drank the money which they had taken out of it.</p>
+
+<p>One of them became afterwards a great friend of mine, though he robbed
+me whenever an opportunity offered itself. He was, all the same, vexed
+at what he had done. He committed these thefts almost unconsciously, as
+if in the way of a duty. Consequently I bore him no grudge.</p>
+
+<p>These convicts let me know that one could have tea, and that I should do
+well to get myself a teapot. They found me one, which I hired for a
+certain time. They also recommended me a cook, who, for thirty kopecks a
+month, would arrange the dishes I might desire, if it was my intention
+to buy provisions and take my meals apart. Of course they borrowed money
+from me. The day of my arrival they asked me for some at three different times.</p>
+
+<p>The noblemen degraded from their position, here incarcerated in the
+convict prison, were badly looked upon by their fellow prisoners;
+although they had lost all their rights like the other convicts, they
+were not looked upon as comrades.</p>
+
+<p>In this instinctive repugnance there was a sort of reason. To them we
+were always gentlemen, although they often laughed at our fall.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! it’s all over now. Mossieu’s carriage formerly crushed the
+passers-by at Moscow. Now Mossieu picks hemp!”</p>
+
+<p>They knew our sufferings, though we hid them as much as possible. It
+was, above all, when we were all working together that we had most to
+endure, for our strength was not so great as theirs, and we were really
+not of much assistance to them. Nothing is more difficult than to gain
+the confidence of the common people; above all, such people as these!</p>
+
+<p>There were only a few of us who were of noble birth in the whole prison.
+First, there were five Poles&mdash;of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> whom further on I shall speak in
+detail&mdash;they were detested by the convicts more, perhaps, than the
+Russian nobles. The Poles&mdash;I speak only of the political
+convicts&mdash;always behaved to them with a constrained and offensive
+politeness, scarcely ever speaking to them, and making no endeavour to
+conceal the disgust which they experienced in such company. The convicts
+understood all this, and paid them back in their own coin.</p>
+
+<p>Two years passed before I could gain the good-will of my companions; but
+the greater part of them were attached to me, and declared that I was a good fellow.</p>
+
+<p>There were altogether&mdash;counting myself&mdash;five Russian nobles in the
+convict prison. I had heard of one of them even before my arrival as a
+vile and base creature, horribly corrupt, doing the work of spy and
+informer. Accordingly, from the very first day I refused to enter into
+relations with this man. The second was the parricide of whom I have
+spoken in these memoirs. The third was Akimitch. I have scarcely ever
+seen such an original; and I have still a lively recollection of him.</p>
+
+<p>Tall, thin, weak-minded, and terribly ignorant, he was as argumentative
+and as particular about details as a German. The convicts laughed at
+him; but they feared him, on account of his susceptible, excitable, and
+quarrelsome disposition. As soon as he arrived, he was on a footing of
+perfect equality with them. He insulted them and beat them. Phenomenally
+just, it was sufficient for him that there was injustice, to interfere
+in an affair which did not concern him. He was, moreover, exceedingly
+simple. When he quarrelled with the convicts, he reproached them with
+being thieves, and exhorted them in all sincerity to steal no more. He
+had served as a sub-lieutenant in the Caucasus. I made friends with him
+the first day, and he related to me his “affair.” He had begun as a
+cadet in a Line regiment. After waiting some time to be appointed to his
+commission as sub-lieutenant, he at last received it, and was sent into
+the mountains to command a small fort. A small tributary prince in the
+neighbourhood set fire to the fort, and made a night attack, which had no success.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p><p>Akimitch was very cunning, and pretended not to know that he was the
+author of the attack, which he attributed to some insurgents wandering
+about the mountains. After a month he invited the prince, in a friendly
+way, to come and see him. The prince arrived on horseback, without
+suspecting anything. Akimitch drew up his garrison in line of battle,
+and exposed to the soldiers the treason and villainy of his visitor. He
+reproached him with his conduct; proved to him that to set fire to the
+fort was a shameful crime; explained to him minutely the duties of a
+tributary prince; and then, by way of peroration to his harangue, had
+him shot. He at once informed his superior officers of this execution,
+with all the details necessary. Thereupon Akimitch was brought to trial.
+He appeared before a court-martial, and was condemned to death; but his
+sentence was commuted, and he was sent to Siberia as a convict of the
+second class&mdash;condemned, that is to say, to twelve years’ hard labour
+and imprisonment in a fortress. He admitted willingly that he had acted
+illegally, and that the prince ought to have been tried in a civil
+court, and not by a court-martial. Nevertheless, he could not understand
+that his action was a crime.</p>
+
+<p>“He had burned my fort; what was I to do? Was I to thank him for it?” he
+answered to my objections.</p>
+
+<p>Although the convicts laughed at Akimitch, and pretended that he was a
+little mad, they esteemed him all the same by reason of his cleverness
+and his precision.</p>
+
+<p>He knew all possible trades, and could do whatever you wished. He was
+cobbler, bootmaker, painter, carver, gilder, and locksmith. He had
+acquired these talents at the convict prison, for it was sufficient for
+him to see an object, in order to imitate it. He sold in the town, or
+caused to be sold, baskets, lanterns, and toys. Thanks to his work, he
+had always some money, which he employed in buying shirts, pillows, and
+so on. He had himself made a mattress, and as he slept in the same room
+as myself he was very useful to me at the beginning of my imprisonment.
+Before leaving prison to go to work, the convicts were drawn up in two
+ranks before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> the orderly-room, surrounded by an escort of soldiers with
+loaded muskets. An officer of Engineers then arrived, with the
+superintendent of the works and a few soldiers, who watched the
+operations. The superintendent counted the convicts, and sent them in
+bands to the places where they were to be occupied.</p>
+
+<p>I went with some other prisoners to the workshop of the Engineers&mdash;a low
+brick house built in the midst of a large court-yard full of materials.
+There was a forge there, and carpenters’, locksmiths’, and painters’
+workshops. Akimitch was assigned to the last. He boiled the oil for the
+varnish, mixed the colours, and painted tables and other pieces of
+furniture in imitation walnut.</p>
+
+<p>While I was waiting to have additional irons put on, I communicated to
+him my first impressions.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he said, “they do not like nobles, above all those who have been
+condemned for political offences, and they take a pleasure in wounding
+their feelings. Is it not intelligible? We do not belong to them, we do
+not suit them. They have all been serfs or soldiers. Tell me what
+sympathy can they have for us. The life here is hard, but it is nothing
+in comparison with that of the disciplinary companies in Russia. There
+it is hell. The men who have been in them praise our convict prison. It
+is paradise compared to their purgatory. Not that the work is harder. It
+is said that with the convicts of the first class the administration&mdash;it
+is not exclusively military as it is here&mdash;acts quite differently from
+what it does towards us. They have their little houses there I have been
+told, for I have not seen for myself. They wear no uniform, their heads
+are not shaved, though, in my opinion, uniforms and shaved heads are not
+bad things; it is neater, and also it is more agreeable to the eye, only
+these men do not like it. Oh, what a Babel this place is! Soldiers,
+Circassians, old believers, peasants who have left their wives and
+families, Jews, Gypsies, people come from Heaven knows where, and all
+this variety of men are to live quietly together side by side, eat from
+the same dish, and sleep on the same planks. Not a moment’s liberty, no
+enjoyment except in secret;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> they must hide their money in their boots;
+and then always the convict prison at every moment&mdash;perpetually convict
+prison! Involuntarily wild ideas come to one.”</p>
+
+<p>As I already knew all this, I was above all anxious to question Akimitch
+in regard to our Major. He concealed nothing, and the impression which
+his story left upon me was far from being an agreeable one.</p>
+
+<p>I had to live for two years under the authority of this officer. All
+that Akimitch had told me about him was strictly true. He was a
+spiteful, ill-regulated man, terrible above all things, because he
+possessed almost absolute power over two hundred human beings. He looked
+upon the prisoners as his personal enemies&mdash;first, and very serious
+fault. His rare capacities, and, perhaps, even his good qualities, were
+perverted by his intemperance and his spitefulness. He sometimes fell
+like a bombshell into the barracks in the middle of the night. If he
+noticed a prisoner asleep on his back or his left side, he awoke him and
+said to him: “You must sleep as I ordered!” The convicts detested him
+and feared him like the plague. His repulsive, crimson countenance made
+every one tremble. We all knew that the Major was entirely in the hands
+of his servant Fedka, and that he had nearly gone mad when his dog
+“Treasure” fell ill. He preferred this dog to every other living creature.</p>
+
+<p>When Fedka told him that a convict, who had picked up some veterinary
+knowledge, made wonderful cures, he sent for him directly and said to
+him, “I entrust my dog to your care. If you cure ‘Treasure’ I will
+reward you royally.” The man, a very intelligent Siberian peasant, was
+indeed a good veterinary surgeon, but he was above all a cunning
+peasant. He used to tell his comrades long after the affair had taken
+place the story of his visit to the Major.</p>
+
+<p>“I looked at ‘Treasure,’ he was lying down on a sofa with his head on a
+white cushion. I saw at once that he had inflammation, and that he
+wanted bleeding. I think I could have cured him, but I said to myself,
+‘What will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> happen if the dog dies? It will be my fault.’ ‘No, your
+noble highness,’ I said to him, ‘you have called me too late. If I had
+seen your dog yesterday or the day before, he would now be restored to
+health; but at the present moment I can do nothing. He will die.’ And
+‘Treasure’ died.”</p>
+
+<p>I was told one day that a convict had tried to kill the Major. This
+prisoner had for several years been noticed for his submissive attitude
+and also his silence. He was regarded even as a madman. As he possessed
+some instruction he passed his nights reading the Bible. When everybody
+was asleep he rose, climbed up on to the stove, lit a church taper,
+opened his Gospel and began to read. He did this for an entire year.</p>
+
+<p>One fine day he left the ranks and declared that he would not go to
+work. He was reported to the Major, who flew into a rage, and hurried to
+the barracks. The convict rushed forward and hurled at him a brick,
+which he had procured beforehand; but it missed him. The prisoner was
+seized, tried, and whipped&mdash;it was a matter of a few moments&mdash;carried to
+the hospital, and died there three days afterwards. He declared during
+his last moments that he hated no one; but that he had wished to suffer.
+He belonged to no sect of fanatics. Afterwards, when people spoke of him
+in the barracks, it was always with respect.</p>
+
+<p>At last they put new irons on me. While they were being soldered a
+number of young women, selling little white loaves, came into the forge
+one after another. They were, for the most part, quite little girls who
+came to sell the loaves that their mothers had baked. As they got older
+they still continued to hang about us, but they no longer brought bread.
+There were always some of them about. There were also married women.
+Each roll cost two kopecks. Nearly all the prisoners used to have them.
+I noticed a prisoner who worked as a carpenter. He was already getting
+gray, but he had a ruddy, smiling complexion. He was joking with the
+vendors of rolls. Before they arrived he had tied a red handkerchief
+round his neck. A fat woman, much marked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> with the small-pox, put down
+her basket on the carpenter’s table. They began to talk.</p>
+
+<p>“Why did you not come yesterday?” said the convict, with a
+self-satisfied smile.</p>
+
+<p>“I did come; but you had gone,” replied the woman boldly.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; they made us go away, otherwise we should have met. The day before
+yesterday they all came to see me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who came?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Mariashka, Khavroshka, Tchekunda, Dougrochva” (the woman of four kopecks).</p>
+
+<p>“What,” I said to Akimitch, “is it possible that&mdash;&mdash;?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; it happens sometimes,” he replied, lowering his eyes, for he was a
+very proper man.</p>
+
+<p>Yes; it happened sometimes, but rarely, and with unheard of
+difficulties. The convicts preferred to spend their money in drink. It
+was very difficult to meet these women. It was necessary to come to an
+agreement about the place, and the time; to arrange a meeting, to find
+solitude, and, what was most difficult of all, to avoid the
+escorts&mdash;almost an impossibility&mdash;and to spend relatively prodigious
+sums. I have sometimes, however, witnessed love scenes. One day three of
+us were heating a brick-kiln on the banks of the Irtitch. The soldiers
+of the escort were good-natured fellows. Two “blowers” (they were
+so-called) soon appeared.</p>
+
+<p>“Where were you staying so long?” said a prisoner to them, who had
+evidently been expecting them. “Was it at the Zvierkoffs that you were detained?”</p>
+
+<p>“At the Zvierkoffs? It will be fine weather, and the fowls will have
+teeth, when I go to see them,” replied one of the women.</p>
+
+<p>She was the dirtiest woman imaginable. She was called Tchekunda, and had
+arrived in company with her friend, the “four kopecks,” who was beneath all description.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a long time since we have seen anything of you,” says the gallant
+to her of the four kopecks; “you seem to have grown thinner.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p><p>“Perhaps; formerly I was good-looking and plump, whereas now one might
+fancy I had swallowed eels.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you still run after the soldiers, is that so?”</p>
+
+<p>“All calumny on the part of wicked people; and after all, if I was to be
+flogged to death for it, I like soldiers.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind your soldiers, we’re the people to love; we have money.”</p>
+
+<p>Imagine this gallant with his shaved crown, with fetters on his ankles,
+dressed in a coat of two colours, and watched by an escort.</p>
+
+<p>As I was now returning to the prison, my irons had been put on. I wished
+Akimitch good-bye and went away, escorted by a soldier. Those who do
+task work return first, and, when I got back to the barracks, a good
+number of convicts were already there.</p>
+
+<p>As the kitchen could not have held the whole barrack-full at once, we
+did not all dine together. Those who came in first were first served. I
+tasted the cabbage soup, but, not being used to it, could not eat it,
+and I prepared myself some tea. I sat down at one end of the table, with
+a convict of noble birth like myself. The prisoners were going in and
+out. There was no want of room, for there were not many of them. Five of
+them sat down apart from the large table. The cook gave them each two
+ladles full of soup, and brought them a plate of fried fish. These men
+were having a holiday. They looked at us in a friendly manner. One of
+the Poles came in and took his seat by our side.</p>
+
+<p>“I was not with you, but I know that you are having a feast,” exclaimed
+a tall convict who now came in.</p>
+
+<p>He was a man of about fifty years, thin and muscular. His face indicated
+cunning, and, at the same time, liveliness. His lower lip, fleshy and
+pendant, gave him a soft expression.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, have you slept well? Why don’t you say how do you do? Well, now
+my friends of Kursk,” he said, sitting down by the side of the feasters,
+“good appetite? Here’s a new guest for you.”</p>
+
+<p>“We are not from the province of Kursk.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then my friends from Tambof, let me say?”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><p>“We are not from Tambof either. You have nothing to claim from us; if
+you want to enjoy yourself go to some rich peasant.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have Maria Ikotishna [from “ikot,” hiccough] in my belly, otherwise I
+should die of hunger. But where is your peasant to be found?”</p>
+
+<p>“Good heavens! we mean Gazin; go to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gazin is on the drink to-day, he’s devouring his capital.”</p>
+
+<p>“He has at least twenty roubles,” says another convict. “It is
+profitable to keep a drinking shop.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t have me? Then I must eat the Government food.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will you have some tea? If so, ask these noblemen for some.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where do you see any noblemen? They’re noblemen no longer. They’re not
+a bit better than us,” said in a sombre voice a convict who was seated
+in the corner, who hitherto had not risked a word.</p>
+
+<p>“I should like a cup of tea, but I am ashamed to ask for it. I have
+self-respect,” said the convict with the heavy lip, looking at me with a
+good-humoured air.</p>
+
+<p>“I will give you some if you like,” I said. “Will you have some?”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean&mdash;will I have some? Who would not have some?” he said,
+coming towards the table.</p>
+
+<p>“Only think! When he was free he ate nothing but cabbage soup and black
+bread, but now he is in prison he must have tea like a perfect
+gentleman,” continued the convict with the sombre air.</p>
+
+<p>“Does no one here drink tea?” I asked him; but he did not think me
+worthy of a reply.</p>
+
+<p>“White rolls, white rolls; who’ll buy?”</p>
+
+<p>A young prisoner was carrying in a net a load of calachi (scones), which
+he proposed to sell in the prison. For every ten that he sold, the baker
+gave him one for his trouble. It was precisely on this tenth scone that
+he counted for his dinner.</p>
+
+<p>“White rolls, white rolls,” he cried, as he entered the kitchen, “white
+Moscow rolls, all hot. I would eat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> the whole of them, but I want money,
+lots of money. Come, lads, there is only one left for any of you who has
+had a mother.”</p>
+
+<p>This appeal to filial love made every one laugh, and several of his
+white rolls were purchased.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” he said, “Gazin has drunk in such a style, it is quite a sin. He
+has chosen a nice moment too. If the man with the eight eyes should
+arrive&mdash;we shall hide him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he very drunk?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and ill-tempered too&mdash;unmanageable.”</p>
+
+<p>“There will be some fighting, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“Whom are they speaking of?” I said to the Pole, my neighbour.</p>
+
+<p>“Of Gazin. He is a prisoner who sells spirits. When he has gained a
+little money by his trade, he drinks it to the last kopeck; a cruel,
+malicious animal when he has been drinking. When sober, he is quiet
+enough, but when he is in drink he shows himself in his true character.
+He attacks people with the knife until it is taken from him.”</p>
+
+<p>“How do they manage that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ten men throw themselves upon him and beat him like a sack without
+mercy until he loses consciousness. When he is half dead with the
+beating, they lay him down on his plank bedstead, and cover him over
+with his pelisse.”</p>
+
+<p>“But they might kill him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Any one else would die of it, but not he. He is excessively robust; he
+is the strongest of all the convicts. His constitution is so solid, that
+the day after one of these punishments he gets up perfectly sound.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me, please,” I continued, speaking to the Pole, “why these people
+keep their food to themselves, and at the same time seem to envy me my tea.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your tea has nothing to do with it. They are envious of you. Are you
+not a gentleman? You in no way resemble them. They would be glad to pick
+a quarrel with you in order to humiliate you. You don’t know what
+annoyances you will have to undergo. It is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> martyrdom for men like us to
+be here. Our life is doubly painful, and great strength of character can
+alone accustom one to it. You will be vexed and tormented in all sorts
+of ways on account of your food and your tea. Although the number of men
+who buy their own food and drink tea daily is large enough, they have a
+right to do so, you have not.”</p>
+
+<p>He got up and left the table a few minutes later. His predictions were
+already being fulfilled.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER IV.</span> <span class="smaller">FIRST IMPRESSIONS (<i>continued</i>).</span></h3>
+
+<p>Hardly had M. &mdash;cki&mdash;the Pole to whom I had been speaking&mdash;gone out when
+Gazin, completely drunk, threw himself all in a heap into the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>To see a convict drunk in the middle of the day, when every one was
+about to be sent out to work&mdash;given the well-known severity of the
+Major, who at any moment might come to the barracks, the watchfulness of
+the under officer who never left the prison, the presence of the old
+soldiers and the sentinels&mdash;all this quite upset the ideas I had formed
+of our prison; and a long time passed before I was able to understand
+and explain to myself the effects, which in the first instance were
+enigmatic indeed.</p>
+
+<p>I have already said that all the convicts had a private occupation, and
+that this occupation was for them a natural and imperious one. They are
+passionately fond of money, and think more of it than of anything
+else&mdash;almost as much as of liberty. The convict is half-consoled if he
+can ring a few kopecks in his pocket. On the contrary, he is sad,
+restless, and despondent if he has no money. He is ready then to commit
+no matter what crime in order to get some. Nevertheless, in spite of the
+importance it possesses for the convicts, money does not remain long in
+their pockets. It is difficult to keep it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> Sometimes it is confiscated,
+sometimes stolen. When the Major, in a sudden perquisition, discovered a
+small sum amassed with great trouble, he confiscated it. It may be that
+he laid it out in improving the food of the prisoners, for all the money
+taken from them went into his hands. But generally speaking it was
+stolen. A means of preserving it was, however, discovered. An old man
+from Starodoub, one of the “old believers,” took upon himself to conceal
+the convicts’ savings.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot resist my desire to say some words about this man, although it
+takes me away from my story. He was about sixty years old, thin, and
+getting very gray. He excited my curiosity the first time I saw him, for
+he was not like any of the others; his look was so tranquil and mild,
+and I always saw with pleasure his clear and limpid eyes, surrounded by
+a number of little wrinkles. I often talked with him, and rarely have I
+met with so kind, so benevolent a being. He had been consigned to hard
+labour for a serious crime. A certain number of the “old believers” at
+Starodoub had been converted to the orthodox religion. The Government
+had done everything to encourage them, and, at the same time, to convert
+the other dissenters. The old man and some other fanatics had resolved
+to “defend the faith.” When the orthodox church was being constructed in
+their town they set fire to the building. This offence had brought upon
+its author the sentence of deportation. This well-to-do shopkeeper&mdash;he
+was in trade&mdash;had left a wife and family whom he loved, and had gone off
+courageously into exile, believing in his blindness that he was
+“suffering for the faith.”</p>
+
+<p>When one had lived some time by the side of this kind old man, one could
+not help asking the question, how could he have rebelled? I spoke to him
+several times about his faith. He gave up none of his convictions, but
+in his answers I never noticed the slightest hatred; and yet he had
+destroyed a church, and was far from denying it. In his view, the
+offence he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> committed and his martyrdom were things to be proud of.</p>
+
+<p>There were other “old believers” among the convicts&mdash;Siberians for the
+most part&mdash;men of well-developed intelligence, and as cunning as all
+peasants. Dialecticians in their way, they followed blindly their law,
+and delighted in discussing it. But they had great faults; they were
+haughty, proud, and very intolerant. The old man in no way resembled
+them. With full more belief in religious exposition than others of the
+same faith, he avoided all controversy. As he was of a gay and expansive
+disposition he often laughed&mdash;not with the coarse cynical laugh of the
+other convicts, but with a laugh of clearness and simplicity, in which
+there was something of the child, and which harmonised perfectly with
+his gray head. I may perhaps be in error, but it seems to me that a man
+may be known by his laugh alone. If the laugh of a man you are
+acquainted with inspires you with sympathy, be assured that he is an
+honest man.</p>
+
+<p>The old man had acquired the respect of all the prisoners without
+exception; but he was not proud of it. The convicts called him
+grandfather, and he took no offence. I then understood what an influence
+he must have exercised on his co-religionists.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the firmness with which he supported his prison life, one
+felt that he was tormented by a profound, incurable melancholy. I slept
+in the same barrack with him. One night, towards three o’clock in the
+morning, I woke up; I heard a slow, stifling sob. The old man was
+sitting upon the stove&mdash;the same place where the convict who had wished
+to kill the Major was in the habit of praying&mdash;and was reading from his
+manuscript prayer-book. As he wept I heard him repeating: “Lord, do not
+forsake me. Master, strengthen me. My poor little children, my dear
+little children, we shall never see one another again.” I cannot say how
+much this moved me.</p>
+
+<p>We used to give our money then to this old man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> Heaven knows how the
+idea got abroad in our barrack that he could not be robbed. It was well
+known that he hid somewhere the savings deposited with him, but no one
+had been able to discover his secret. He revealed it to us; to the
+Poles, and myself. One of the stakes of the palisade bore a branch which
+apparently belonged to it, but it could be taken away, and then replaced
+in the stake. When the branch was removed a hole could be seen. This was
+the hiding-place in question.</p>
+
+<p>I now resume the thread of my narrative. Why does not the convict save
+up his money? Not only is it difficult for him to keep it, but the
+prison life, moreover, is so sad that the convict by his very nature
+thirsts for freedom of action. By his position in society he is so
+irregular a being that the idea of swallowing up his capital in orgies,
+of intoxicating himself with revelry, seems to him quite natural if only
+he can procure himself one moment’s forgetfulness. It was strange to see
+certain individuals bent over their labour only with the object of
+spending in one day all their gains, even to the last kopeck. Then they
+would go to work again until a new debauch, looked forward to months
+beforehand. Certain convicts were fond of new clothes, more or less
+singular in style, such as fancy trousers and waistcoats; but it was
+above all for the coloured shirts that the convicts had a pronounced
+taste; also for belts with metal clasps.</p>
+
+<p>On holidays the dandies of the prison put on their Sunday best. They
+were worth seeing as they strutted about their part of the barracks. The
+pleasure of feeling themselves well dressed amounted with them to
+childishness; indeed, in many things convicts are only children. Their
+fine clothes disappeared very soon, often the evening of the very day on
+which they had been bought. Their owners pledged them or sold them again
+for a trifle.</p>
+
+<p>The feasts were generally held at fixed times. They coincided with
+religious festivals, or with the name’s day of the drunken convict. On
+getting up in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> morning he would place a wax taper before the holy
+image, then he said his prayer, dressed, and ordered his dinner. He had
+bought beforehand meat, fish, and little patties; then he gorged like an
+ox, almost always alone. It was very rare to see a convict invite
+another convict to share his repast. At dinner the vodka was produced.
+The convict would suck it up like the sole of a boot, and then walk
+through the barracks swaggering and tottering. It was his desire to show
+all his companions that he was drunk, that he was carrying on, and thus
+obtain their particular esteem.</p>
+
+<p>The Russian people feel always a certain sympathy for a drunken man;
+among us it amounted really to esteem. In the convict prison
+intoxication was a sort of aristocratic distinction.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he felt himself in spirits the convict ordered a musician. We
+had among us a little fellow&mdash;a deserter from the army&mdash;very ugly, but
+who was the happy possessor of a violin on which he could play. As he
+had no trade he was always ready to follow the festive convict from
+barrack to barrack grinding him out dance tunes with all his strength.
+His countenance often expressed the fatigue and disgust which his
+music&mdash;always the same&mdash;caused him; but when the prisoner called out to
+him, “Go on playing, are you not paid for it?” he attacked his violin
+more violently than ever. These drunkards felt sure that they would be
+taken care of, and in case of the Major arriving would be concealed from
+his watchful eyes. This service we rendered in the most disinterested
+spirit. On their side the under officer, and the old soldiers who
+remained in the prison to keep order, were perfectly reassured. The
+drunkard would cause no disturbance. At the least scare of revolt or
+riot he would have been quieted and then bound. Accordingly the inferior
+officers closed their eyes; they knew that if vodka was forbidden all
+would go wrong. How was this vodka procured?</p>
+
+<p>It was bought in the convict prison itself from the drink-sellers, as
+they were called, who followed this trade<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>&mdash;a very lucrative
+one&mdash;although the tipplers were not very numerous, for revelry was
+expensive, especially when it is considered how hardly money was earned.
+The drink business was begun, continued, and ended in rather an original
+manner. The prisoner who knew no trade, would not work, and who,
+nevertheless, desired to get speedily rich, made up his mind, when he
+possessed a little money, to buy and sell vodka. The enterprise was
+risky, it required great daring, for the speculator hazarded his skin as
+well as liquor. But the drink-seller hesitated before no obstacles. At
+the outset he brought the vodka himself to the prison and got rid of it
+on the most advantageous terms. He repeated this operation a second and
+a third time. If he had not been discovered by the officials, he now
+possessed a sum which enabled him to extend his business. He became a
+capitalist with agents and assistants, he risked much less and gained
+much more. Then his assistants incurred risk in place of him.</p>
+
+<p>Prisons are always abundantly inhabited by ruined men without the habit
+of work, but endowed with skill and daring; their only capital is their
+back. They often decide to put it into circulation, and propose to the
+drink-seller to introduce vodka into the barracks. There is always in
+the town a soldier, a shopkeeper, or some loose woman who, for a
+stipulated sum&mdash;rather a small one&mdash;buys vodka with the drink-seller’s
+money, hides it in a place known to the convict-smuggler, near the
+workshop where he is employed. The person who supplies the vodka, tastes
+the precious liquid almost always as he is carrying it to the
+hiding-place, and replaces relentlessly what he has drunk by pure water.
+The purchaser may take it or leave it, but he cannot give himself airs.
+He thinks himself very lucky that his money has not been stolen from
+him, and that he has received some kind of vodka in exchange. The man
+who is to take it into the prison&mdash;to whom the drink-seller has
+indicated the hiding-place&mdash;goes to the supplier with bullock’s
+intestines which after being washed, have been filled with water,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> and
+which thus preserves their softness and suppleness. When the intestines
+have been filled with vodka, the smuggler rolls them round his body.
+Now, all the cunning, the adroitness of this daring convict is shown.
+The man’s honour is at stake. It is necessary for him to take in the
+escort and the man on guard; and he will take them in. If the carrier is
+artful, the soldier of the escort&mdash;sometimes a recruit&mdash;does not notice
+anything particular; for the prisoner has studied him thoroughly,
+besides which he has artfully combined the hour and the place of
+meeting. If the convict&mdash;a bricklayer for example&mdash;climbs up on the wall
+that he is building, the escort will certainly not climb up after him to
+watch his movements. Who then, will see what he is about? On getting
+near the prison, he gets ready a piece of fifteen or twenty kopecks, and
+waits at the gate for the corporal on guard.</p>
+
+<p>The corporal examines, feels, and searches each convict on his return to
+the barracks, and then opens the gate to him. The carrier of the vodka
+hopes that he will be ashamed to examine him too much in detail; but if
+the corporal is a cunning fellow, that is just what he will do; and in
+that case he finds the contraband vodka. The convict has now only one
+chance of salvation. He slips into the hand of the under officer the
+piece of money he holds in readiness, and often, thanks to this
+manœuvre, the vodka arrives safely in the hands of the drink-seller.
+But sometimes the trick does not succeed, and it is then that the sole
+capital of the smuggler enters really into circulation. A report is made
+to the Major, who sentences the unhappy culprit to a thorough flogging.
+As for the vodka, it is confiscated. The smuggler undergoes his
+punishment without betraying the speculator, not because such a
+denunciation would disgrace him, but because it would bring him nothing.
+He would be flogged all the same, the only consolation he could have
+would be that the drink-seller would share his punishment; but as he
+needs him, he does not denounce him, although having allowed himself to
+be surprised, he will receive no payment from him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p><p>Denunciation, however, flourishes in the convict prison. Far from
+hating spies or keeping apart from them, the prisoners often make
+friends of them. If any one had taken it into his head to prove to the
+convicts all the baseness of mutual denunciation, no one in the prison
+would have understood. The former nobleman of whom I have already
+spoken, that cowardly and violent creature with whom I had already
+broken off all relations immediately after my arrival in the fortress,
+was the friend of Fedka, the Major’s body-servant. He used to tell him
+everything that took place in the convict prison, and this was naturally
+carried back to the servant’s master. Every one knew it, but no one had
+the idea of showing any ill-will against the man, or of reproaching him
+with his conduct. When the vodka arrived without accident at the prison,
+the speculator paid the smuggler and made up his accounts. His
+merchandise had already cost him sufficiently dear; and that the profit
+might be greater, he diluted it by adding fifty per cent. of pure water.
+He was ready, and had only to wait for customers.</p>
+
+<p>The first holiday, perhaps even on a week-day, a convict would turn up.
+He had been working like a negro for many months in order to save up,
+kopeck by kopeck, a small sum which he was resolved to spend all at
+once. These days of rejoicing had been looked forward to long
+beforehand. He had dreamt of them during the endless winter nights,
+during his hardest labour, and the perspective had supported him under
+his severest trials. The dawn of this day so impatiently awaited, has
+just appeared. He has some money in his pocket. It has been neither
+stolen from him nor confiscated. He is free to spend it. Accordingly he
+takes his savings to the drink-seller, who, to begin with, gives vodka
+which is almost pure&mdash;it has been only twice baptized&mdash;but gradually, as
+the bottle gets more and more empty, he fills it up with water.
+Accordingly the convict pays for his vodka five or six times as much as
+he would in a tavern.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p><p>It may be imagined how many glasses, and, above all, what sums of money
+are required before the convict is drunk. However, as he has lost the
+habit of drinking, the little alcohol which remains in the liquid
+intoxicates him rapidly enough; he goes on drinking until there is
+nothing left; he pledges or sells all his new clothes&mdash;for the
+drink-seller is at the same time a pawnbroker. As his personal garments
+are not very numerous he next pledges the clothes supplied to him by the
+Government. When the drink has made away with his last shirt, his last
+rag, he lies down and wakes up the next morning with a bad headache. In
+vain he begs the drink-seller to give him credit for a drop of vodka in
+order to remove his depression; he experiences a direct refusal. That
+very day he sets to work again. For several months together, he will
+weary himself out while looking forward to such a debauch as the one
+which has now disappeared in the past. Little by little he regains
+courage while waiting for such another day, still far off, but which
+ultimately will arrive. As for the drink-seller, if he has gained a
+large sum&mdash;some dozen of roubles&mdash;he procures some more vodka, but this
+time he does not baptize it, because he intends it for himself. Enough
+of trade! it is time for him to amuse himself. Accordingly he eats,
+drinks, pays for a little music&mdash;his means allow him to grease the palm
+of the inferior officers in the convict prison. This festival lasts
+sometimes for several days. When his stock of vodka is exhausted, he
+goes and drinks with the other drink-sellers who are waiting for him; he
+then drinks up his last kopeck.</p>
+
+<p>However careful the convicts may be in watching over their companions in
+debauchery, it sometimes happens that the Major or the officer on guard
+notices what is going on. The drunkard is then dragged to the
+orderly-room, his money is confiscated if he has any left, and he is
+flogged. The convict shakes himself like a beaten dog, returns to
+barracks, and, after a few days, resumes his trade as drink-seller.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p><p>It sometimes happens that among the convicts there are admirers of the
+fair sex. For a sufficiently large sum of money they succeed,
+accompanied by a soldier whom they have corrupted, in getting secretly
+out of the fortress into a suburb instead of going to work. There in an
+apparently quiet house a banquet is held at which large sums of money
+are spent. The convicts’ money is not to be despised, accordingly the
+soldiers will sometimes arrange these temporary escapes beforehand, sure
+as they are of being generously recompensed. Generally speaking these
+soldiers are themselves candidates for the convict prison. The escapades
+are scarcely ever discovered. I must add that they are very rare, for
+they are very expensive, and the admirers of the fair sex are obliged to
+have recourse to other less costly means.</p>
+
+<p>At the beginning of my stay, a young convict with very regular features
+excited my curiosity; his name was Sirotkin, he was in many respects an
+enigmatic being. His face had struck me, he was not more than
+twenty-three years of age, and he belonged to the special section; that
+is to say, he was condemned to hard labour in perpetuity. He accordingly
+was to be looked upon as one of the most dangerous of military
+criminals. Mild and tranquil, he spoke little and rarely laughed; his
+blue eyes, his clear complexion, his fair hair gave him a soft
+expression, which even his shaven crown did not destroy. Although he had
+no trade, he managed to get himself money from time to time. He was
+remarkably lazy, and always dressed like a sloven; but if any one was
+generous enough to present him with a red shirt, he was beside himself
+with joy at having a new garment, and he exhibited it everywhere.
+Sirotkin neither drank nor played, and he scarcely ever quarrelled with
+the other convicts. He walked about with his hands in his pockets
+peacefully, and with a pensive air. What he was thinking of I cannot
+say. When any one called to him, to ask him a question, he replied with
+deference, precisely, without chattering like the others. He had in his
+eyes the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> expression of a child of ten; when he had money he bought
+nothing of what the others looked upon as indispensable. His vest might
+be torn, he did not get it mended, any more than he bought himself new
+boots. What particularly pleased him were the little white rolls and
+gingerbread, which he would eat with the satisfaction of a child of
+seven. When he was not at work he wandered about the barracks; when
+every one else was occupied, he remained with his arms by his sides; if
+any one joked with him, or laughed at him&mdash;which happened often
+enough&mdash;he turned on his heel without speaking and went elsewhere. If
+the pleasantry was too strong he blushed. I often asked myself for what
+crime he could have been condemned to hard labour. One day when I was
+ill, and lying in the hospital, Sirotkin was also there, stretched out
+on a bedstead not far from me. I entered into conversation with him; he
+became animated, and told me freely how he had been taken for a soldier,
+how his mother had followed him in tears, and what treatment he had
+endured in military service. He added that he had never been able to
+accustom himself to this life; every one was severe and angry with him
+about nothing, his officers were always against him.</p>
+
+<p>“But why did they send you here?&mdash;and into the special section above
+all! Ah, Sirotkin!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Alexander Petrovitch, although I was only one year with the
+battalion, I was sent here for killing my captain, Gregory Petrovitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“I heard about that, but I did not believe it; how was it that you
+killed him?”</p>
+
+<p>“All that was told you was true; my life was insupportable.”</p>
+
+<p>“But the other recruits supported it well enough. It is very hard at the
+beginning, but men get accustomed to it and end by becoming excellent
+soldiers. Your mother must have pampered you and spoiled you. I am sure
+that she fed you with gingerbread and with sweet milk until you were
+eighteen.”</p>
+
+<p>“My mother, it is true, was very fond of me. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> I left her she took
+to her bed and remained there. How painful to me everything in my
+military life was; after that all went wrong. I was perpetually being
+punished, and why? I obeyed every one, I was exact, careful. I did not
+drink, I borrowed from no one&mdash;it’s all up with a man when he begins to
+borrow&mdash;and yet every one around me was harsh and cruel. I sometimes hid
+myself in a corner and did nothing but sob. One day, or rather one
+night, I was on guard. It was autumn: there was a strong wind, and it
+was so dark that you could not see a speck, and I was sad, so sad! I
+took the bayonet from the end of my musket and placed it by my side.
+Then I put the barrel to my breast and with my big toe&mdash;I had taken my
+boot off&mdash;pressed the trigger. It missed fire. I looked at my musket and
+loaded it with a charge of fresh powder. Then I broke off the corner of
+my flint, and once more I placed the muzzle against my breast. Again
+there was a misfire. What was I to do? I said to myself. I put my boot
+on, I fastened my bayonet to the barrel, and walked up and down with my
+musket on my shoulder. Let them do what they like, I said to myself; but
+I will not be a soldier any longer. Half-an-hour afterwards the captain
+arrived, making his rounds. He came straight upon me. ‘Is that the way
+you carry yourself when you are on guard?’ I seized my musket, and stuck
+the bayonet into his body. Then I had to walk forty-six versts. That is
+how I came to be in the special section.”</p>
+
+<p>He was telling no falsehood, yet I did not understand how they could
+have sent him there; such crimes deserve a much less severe punishment.
+Sirotkin was the only one of the convicts who was really handsome. As
+for his companions of the special section&mdash;to the number of
+fifteen&mdash;they were frightful to behold with their hideous, disgusting
+physiognomies. Gray heads were plentiful among them. I shall speak of
+these men further on. Sirotkin was often on good terms with Gazin, the
+drink-seller, of whom I have already spoken at the beginning of this chapter.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p><p>This Gazin was a terrible being; the impression that he produced on
+every one was confusing or appalling. It seemed to me that a more
+ferocious, a more monstrous creature could not exist. Yet I have seen at
+Tobolsk, Kameneff, the brigand, celebrated for his crimes. Later, I saw
+Sokoloff, the escaped convict, formerly a deserter, who was a ferocious
+creature; but neither of them inspired me with so much disgust as Gazin.
+I often fancied that I had before my eyes an enormous, gigantic spider
+of the size of a man. He was a Tartar, and there was no convict so
+strong as he was. It was less by his great height and his herculean
+construction, than by his enormous and deformed head, that he inspired
+terror. The strangest reports were current about him. Some said that he
+had been a soldier, others that he had escaped from Nertchinsk, and that
+he had been exiled several times to Siberia, but had always succeeded in
+getting away. Landing at last in our convict prison, he belonged there
+to the special section. It appeared that he had taken a pleasure in
+killing little children when he had attracted them to some deserted
+place; then he frightened them, tortured them, and after having fully
+enjoyed the terror and the convulsions of the poor little things, he
+killed them resolutely and with delight. These horrors had perhaps been
+imagined by reason of the painful impression that the monster produced
+upon us; but they seemed probable, and harmonised with his physiognomy.
+Nevertheless, when Gazin was not drunk, he conducted himself well enough.</p>
+
+<p>He was always quiet, never quarrelled, avoided all disputes as if from
+contempt for his companions, just as though he had entertained a high
+opinion of himself. He spoke very little, all his movements were
+measured, calm, resolute. His look was not without intelligence, but its
+expression was cruel and derisive like his smile. Of all the convicts
+who sold vodka, he was the richest. Twice a year he got completely
+drunk, and it was then that all his brutal ferocity exhibited itself.
+Little by little he got excited, and began to tease the prisoners<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> with
+venomous satire prepared long beforehand. Finally when he was quite
+drunk, he had attacks of furious rage, and, seizing a knife, would rush
+upon his companions. The convicts who knew his herculean vigour, avoided
+him and protected themselves against him, for he would throw himself on
+the first person he met. A means of disarming him had been discovered.
+Some dozen prisoners would rush suddenly upon Gazin, and give him
+violent blows in the pit of the stomach, in the belly, and generally
+beneath the region of the heart, until he lost consciousness. Any one
+else would have died under such treatment, but Gazin soon got well. When
+he had been well beaten they would wrap him up in his pelisse, and throw
+him upon his plank bedstead, leaving him to digest his drink. The next
+day he woke up almost well, and went to his work silent and sombre.
+Every time that Gazin got drunk, all the prisoners knew how his day
+would finish. He knew also, but he drank all the same. Several years
+passed in this way. Then it was noticed that Gazin had lost his energy,
+and that he was beginning to get weak. He did nothing but groan,
+complaining of all kinds of illnesses. His visits to the hospital became
+more and more frequent. “He is giving in,” said the prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>At one time Gazin had gone into the kitchen followed by the little
+fellow who scraped the violin, and whom the convicts in their
+festivities used to hire to play to them. He stopped in the middle of
+the hall silently examining his companions one after another. No one
+breathed a word. When he saw me with my companions, he looked at us in
+his malicious, jeering style, and smiled horribly with the air of a man
+who was satisfied with a good joke that he had just thought of. He
+approached our table, tottering.</p>
+
+<p>“Might I ask,” he said, “where you get the money which allows you to drink tea?”</p>
+
+<p>I exchanged a look with my neighbour. I understood that the best thing
+for us was to be silent, and not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> to answer. The least contradiction
+would have put Gazin in a passion.</p>
+
+<p>“You must have money,” he continued, “you must have a good deal of money
+to drink tea; but, tell me, are you sent to hard labour to drink tea? I
+say, did you come here for that purpose? Please answer, I should like to know.”</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that we were resolved on silence, and that we had determined not
+to pay any attention to him, he ran towards us, livid and trembling with
+rage. At two steps’ distance, he saw a heavy box, which served to hold
+the bread given for the dinner and supper of the convicts. Its contents
+were sufficient for the meal of half the prisoners. At this moment it
+was empty. He seized it with both hands and brandished it above our
+heads. Although murder, or attempted, was an inexhaustible source of
+trouble for the convicts&mdash;examinations, counter-examinations, and
+inquiries without end would be the natural consequence&mdash;and though
+quarrels were generally cut short, when they did not lead to such
+serious results, yet every one remained silent and waited.</p>
+
+<p>Not one word in our favour, not one cry against Gazin. The hatred of all
+the prisoners for all who were of gentle birth was so great that every
+one of them was evidently pleased to see that we were in danger. But a
+fortunate incident terminated this scene, which must have become tragic.
+Gazin was about to let fly the enormous box, which he was turning and
+twisting above his head, when a convict ran in from the barracks, and cried out:</p>
+
+<p>“Gazin, they have stolen your vodka!”</p>
+
+<p>The horrible brigand let fall the box with a frightful oath, and ran out
+of the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, God has saved them,” said the prisoners among themselves,
+repeating the words several times.</p>
+
+<p>I never knew whether his vodka had been stolen, or whether it was only a
+stratagem invented to save us.</p>
+
+<p>That same evening, before the closing of the barracks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> when it was
+already dark, I walked to the side of the palisade. A heavy feeling of
+sadness weighed upon my soul. During all the time that I passed in the
+convict prison I never felt myself so miserable as on that evening,
+though the first day is always the hardest, whether at hard labour or in
+the prison. One thought in particular had left me no respite since my
+deportation&mdash;a question insoluble then and insoluble now. I reflected on
+the inequality of the punishments inflicted for the same crimes. Often,
+indeed, one crime cannot be compared even approximately to another. Two
+murderers kill a man under circumstances which in each case are minutely
+examined and weighed. They each receive the same punishment; and yet by
+what an abyss are their two actions separated! One has committed a
+murder for a trifle&mdash;for an onion. He has killed on the high-road a
+peasant who was passing, and found on him an onion, and nothing else.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I was sent to hard labour for a peasant who had nothing but an onion!”</p>
+
+<p>“Fool that you are! an onion is worth a kopeck. If you had killed a
+hundred peasants you would have had a hundred kopecks, or one rouble.”
+The above is a prison joke.</p>
+
+<p>Another criminal has killed a debauchee who was oppressing or
+dishonouring his wife, his sister, or his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>A third, a vagabond, half dead with hunger, pursued by a whole band of
+police, was defending his liberty, his life. He is to be regarded as on
+an equality with the brigand who assassinates children for his
+amusement, for the pleasure of feeling their warm blood flow over his
+hands, of seeing them shudder in a last bird-like palpitation beneath
+the knife which tears their flesh!</p>
+
+<p>They will all alike be sent to hard labour; though the sentence will
+perhaps not be for the same number of years. But the variations in the
+punishment are not very numerous, whereas different kinds of crimes may
+be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> reckoned by thousands. As many characters, so many crimes.</p>
+
+<p>Let us admit that it is impossible to get rid of this first inequality
+in punishment, that the problem is insoluble, and that in connection
+with penal matters it is the squaring of the circle. Let all that be
+admitted; but even if this inequality cannot be avoided, there is
+another thing to be thought of&mdash;the consequences of the punishment. Here
+is a man who is wasting away like a candle; there is another one, on the
+contrary, who had no idea before going into exile that there could be
+such a gay, such an idle life, where he would find a circle of such
+agreeable friends. Individuals of this latter class are to be found in
+the convict prison.</p>
+
+<p>Now take a man of heart, of cultivated mind, and of delicate conscience.
+What he feels kills him more certainly than the material punishment. The
+judgment which he himself pronounces on his crime is more pitiless than
+that of the most severe tribunal, the most Draconian law. He lives by
+the side of another convict, who has not once reflected on the murder he
+is expiating, during the whole time of his sojourn in the convict
+prison. He, perhaps, even considers himself innocent. Are there not,
+also, poor devils who commit crimes in order to be sent to hard labour,
+and thus to escape the liberty which is much more painful than
+confinement? A man’s life is miserable, he has never, perhaps, been able
+to satisfy his hunger. He is worked to death in order to enrich his
+master. In the convict prison his work will be less severe, less
+crushing. He will eat as much as he wants, better than he could ever
+have hoped to eat, had he remained free. On holidays he will have meat,
+and fine people will give him alms, and his evening’s work will bring
+him in some money. And the society one meets with in the convict prison,
+is that to be counted for nothing? The convicts are clever, wide-awake
+people, who are up to everything. The new arrival can scarcely conceal
+the admiration he feels for his companions in labour. He has seen
+nothing like it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> before, and he will consider himself in the best
+company possible.</p>
+
+<p>Is it possible that men so differently situated can feel in an equal
+degree the punishment inflicted? But why think about questions that are
+insoluble? The drum beats, let us go back to barracks.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER V.</span> <span class="smaller">FIRST IMPRESSIONS (<i>continued</i>)</span></h3>
+
+<p>We were between walls once more. The doors of the barracks were locked,
+each with a particular padlock, and the prisoners remained shut up till
+the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>The verification was made by a non-commissioned officer accompanied by
+two soldiers. When by chance an officer was present, the convicts were
+drawn up in the court-yard, but generally speaking they were identified
+in the buildings. As the soldiers often made mistakes, they went out and
+came back in order to count us again and again, until their reckoning
+was satisfactory, then the barracks were closed. Each one contained
+about thirty prisoners, and we were very closely packed in our camp
+bedsteads. As it was too soon to go to sleep, the convicts occupied
+themselves with work.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the old soldier of whom I have spoken, who slept in our
+dormitory, and represented there the administration of the prison, there
+was in our barrack another old soldier wearing a medal as rewarded for
+good conduct. It happened often enough, however, that the good-conduct
+men themselves committed offences for which they were sentenced to be
+whipped. They then lost their rank, and were immediately replaced by
+comrades whose conduct was considered satisfactory.</p>
+
+<p>Our good-conduct man was no other than Akim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> Akimitch. To my great
+astonishment, he was very rough with the prisoners, but they only
+replied by jokes. The other old soldier, more prudent, interfered with
+no one, and if he opened his mouth, it was only as a matter of form, as
+an affair of duty. For the most part he remained silent, seated on his
+little bedstead, occupied in mending his own boots.</p>
+
+<p>That day I could not help making to myself an observation, the accuracy
+of which became afterwards apparent: that all those who are not convicts
+and who have to deal with them, whoever they may be&mdash;beginning with the
+soldiers of the escort and the sentinels&mdash;look upon the convicts in a
+false and exaggerated light, expecting that for a yes or a no, these men
+will throw themselves upon them knife in hand. The prisoners, perfectly
+conscious of the fear they inspire, show a certain arrogance.
+Accordingly, the best prison director is the one who experiences no
+emotion in their presence. In spite of the airs they give themselves,
+the convicts prefer that confidence should be placed in them. By such
+means, indeed, they may be conciliated. I have more than once had
+occasion to notice their astonishment at an official entering their
+prison without an escort, and certainly their astonishment was not
+unflattering. A visitor who is intrepid imposes respect. If anything
+unfortunate happens, it will not be in his presence. The terror inspired
+by the convicts is general, and yet I saw no foundation for it. Is it
+the appearance of the prisoner, his brigand-like look, that causes a
+certain repugnance? Is it not rather the feeling that invades you
+directly you enter the prison, that in spite of all efforts, all
+precautions, it is impossible to turn a living man into a corpse, to
+stifle his feelings, his thirst for vengeance and for life, his
+passions, and his imperious desire to satisfy them? However that may be,
+I declare that there is no reason for fearing the convicts. A man does
+not throw himself so quickly nor so easily upon his fellow-man, knife in
+hand. Few accidents happen; sometimes they are so rare that the danger
+may be looked upon as non-existent.</p>
+
+<p>I speak, it must be understood, only of prisoners already<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> condemned,
+who are undergoing their punishment, and some of whom are almost happy
+to find themselves in the convict prison; so attractive under all
+circumstances is a new form of life. These latter live quiet and
+contented. As for the turbulent ones, the convicts themselves keep them
+in restraint, and their arrogance never goes too far. The prisoner,
+audacious and reckless as he may be, is afraid of every official
+connected with the prison. It is by no means the same with the accused
+whose fate has not been decided. Such a one is quite capable of
+attacking, no matter whom, without any motive of hatred, and solely
+because he is to be whipped the next day. If, indeed, he commits a fresh
+crime his offence becomes complicated. Punishment is delayed, and he
+gains time. The act of aggression is explained; it has a cause, an
+object. The convict wishes at all hazards to change his fate, and that
+as soon as possible. In connection with this, I myself have witnessed a
+physiological fact of the strangest kind.</p>
+
+<p>In the section of military convicts was an old soldier who had been
+condemned to two years’ hard labour, a great boaster, and at the same
+time a coward. Generally speaking, the Russian soldier does not boast.
+He has no time for doing so, even had he the inclination. When such a
+one appears among a multitude of others, he is always a coward and a
+rogue. Dutoff&mdash;that was the name of the prisoner of whom I am
+speaking&mdash;underwent his punishment, and then went back to the same
+battalion in the Line; but, like all who are sent to the convict prison
+to be corrected, he had been thoroughly corrupted. A “return horse”
+re-appears in the convict prison after two or three weeks’ liberty, not
+for a comparatively short time, but for fifteen or twenty years. So it
+happened in the case of Dutoff. Three weeks after he had been set at
+liberty, he robbed one of his comrades, and was, moreover, mutinous. He
+was taken before a court-martial and sentenced to a severe form of
+corporal punishment. Horribly frightened, like the coward that he was,
+at the prospect of punishment, he threw himself, knife in hand, on to
+the officer of the guard, as he entered his dungeon on the eve of the
+day that he was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> run the gauntlet through the men of his company. He
+quite understood that he was aggravating his offence, and that the
+duration of his punishment would be increased; but all he wanted was to
+postpone for some days, or at least for some hours, a terrible moment.
+He was such a coward that he did not even wound the officer whom he had
+attacked. He had, indeed, only committed this assault in order to add a
+new crime to the last already against him, and thus defer the sentence.</p>
+
+<p>The moment preceding the punishment is terrible for the man condemned to
+the rods. I have seen many of them on the eve of the fatal day. I
+generally met with them in the hospital when I was ill, which happened
+often enough. In Russia the people who show most compassion for the
+convicts are certainly the doctors, who never make between the prisoners
+the distinctions observed by other persons brought into direct relations
+with them. In this respect the common people can alone be compared with
+the doctors, for they never reproach a criminal with the crime that he
+has committed, whatever it may be. They forgive him in consideration of
+the sentence passed upon him.</p>
+
+<p>Is it not known that the common people throughout Russia call crime a
+“misfortune,” and the criminal an “unfortunate”? This definition is
+expressive, profound, and, moreover, unconscious, instinctive. To the
+doctor the convicts have naturally recourse, above all when they are to
+undergo corporal punishment. The prisoner who has been before a
+court-martial knows pretty well at what moment his sentence will be
+executed. To escape it he gets himself sent to the hospital, in order to
+postpone for some days the terrible moment. When he is declared restored
+to health, he knows that the day after he leaves the hospital this
+moment will arrive. Accordingly, on quitting the hospital the convict is
+always in a state of agitation. Some of them may endeavour from vanity
+to conceal their anxiety, but no one is taken in by that; every one
+understands the cruelty of such a moment, and is silent from humane motives.</p>
+
+<p>I knew one young convict, an ex-soldier, sentenced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> for murder, who was
+to receive the maximum of rods. The eve of the day on which he was to be
+flogged, he had resolved to drink a bottle of vodka in which he had
+infused a quantity of snuff.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner condemned to the rods always drinks, before the critical
+moment arrives, a certain amount of spirits which he has procured long
+beforehand, and often at a fabulous price. He would deprive himself of
+the necessaries of life for six months rather than not be in a position
+to swallow half a pint of vodka before the flogging. The convicts are
+convinced that a drunken man suffers less from the sticks or whip than
+one who is in cold blood.</p>
+
+<p>I will return to my narrative. The poor devil felt ill a few moments
+after he had swallowed his bottle of vodka. He vomited blood, and was
+carried in a state of unconsciousness to the hospital. His lungs were so
+much injured by this accident that phthisis declared itself, and carried
+off the soldier in a few months. The doctors who had attended him never
+knew the origin of his illness.</p>
+
+<p>If examples of cowardice are not rare among the prisoners, it must be
+added that there are some whose intrepidity is quite astounding. I
+remember many instances of courage pushed to the extreme. The arrival in
+the hospital of a terrible bandit remains fixed in my memory.</p>
+
+<p>One fine summer day the report was spread in the infirmary that the
+famous prisoner, Orloff, was to be flogged the same evening, and that he
+would be brought afterwards to the hospital. The prisoners who were
+already there said that the punishment would be a cruel one, and every
+one&mdash;including myself I must admit&mdash;was awaiting with curiosity the
+arrival of this brigand, about whom the most unheard-of things were
+told. He was a malefactor of a rare kind, capable of assassinating in
+cold blood old men and children. He possessed an indomitable force of
+will, and was fully conscious of his power. As he had been guilty of
+several crimes, they had condemned him to be flogged through the ranks.</p>
+
+<p>He was brought, or, rather carried, in towards evening.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> The place was
+already dark. Candles were lighted. Orloff was excessively pale, almost
+unconscious, with his thick curly hair of dull black without the least
+brilliancy. His back was skinned and swollen, blue, and stained with
+blood. The prisoners nursed him throughout the night; they changed his
+poultices, placed him on his side, prepared for him the lotion ordered
+by the doctor; in a word, showed as much solicitude for him as for a
+relation or benefactor.</p>
+
+<p>Next day he had fully recovered his faculties, and took one or two turns
+round the room. I was much astonished, for he was broken down and
+powerless when he was brought in. He had received half the number of
+blows ordered by the sentence. The doctor had stopped the punishment,
+convinced that if it were continued Orloff’s death would inevitably ensue.</p>
+
+<p>This criminal was of a feeble constitution, weakened by long
+imprisonment. Whoever has seen prisoners after having been flogged, will
+remember their thin, drawn-out features and their feverish looks. Orloff
+soon recovered his powerful energy, which enabled him to get over his
+physical weakness. He was no ordinary man. From curiosity I made his
+acquaintance, and was able to study him at leisure for an entire week.
+Never in my life did I meet a man whose will was more firm or inflexible.</p>
+
+<p>I had seen at Tobolsk a celebrity of the same kind&mdash;a former chief of
+brigands. This man was a veritable wild beast; by being near him,
+without even knowing him, it was impossible not to recognise in him a
+dangerous creature. What above all frightened me was his stupidity.
+Matter, in this man, had taken such an ascendant over mind, that one
+could see at a glance that he cared for nothing in the world but the
+brutal satisfaction of his physical wants. I was certain, however, that
+Kareneff&mdash;that was his name&mdash;would have fainted on being condemned to
+such rigorous corporal punishment as Orloff had undergone; and that he
+would have murdered the first man near him without blinking.</p>
+
+<p>Orloff, on the contrary, was a brilliant example of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> victory of
+spirit over matter. He had a perfect command over himself. He despised
+punishment, and feared nothing in the world. His dominant characteristic
+was boundless energy, a thirst for vengeance, and an immovable will when
+he had some object to attain.</p>
+
+<p>I was not astonished at his haughty air. He looked down upon all around
+him from the height of his grandeur. Not that he took the trouble to
+pose; his pride was an innate quality. I don’t think that anything had
+the least influence over him. He looked upon everything with the calmest
+eye, as if nothing in the world could astonish him. He knew well that
+the other prisoners respected him; but he never took advantage of it to
+give himself airs.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, vanity and conceit are defects from which scarcely any
+convict is exempt. He was intelligent and strangely frank in talking too
+much about himself. He replied point-blank to all the questions I put to
+him, and confessed to me that he was waiting impatiently for his return
+to health in order to take the remainder of the punishment he was to undergo.</p>
+
+<p>“Now,” he said to me with a wink, “it is all over. I shall have the
+remainder, and shall be sent to Nertchinsk with a convoy of prisoners. I
+shall profit by it to escape. I shall get away beyond doubt. If only my
+back would heal a little quicker!”</p>
+
+<p>For five days he was burning with impatience to be in a condition for
+leaving the hospital At times he was gay and in the best of humours. I
+profited by these rare occasions to question him about his adventures.</p>
+
+<p>Then he would contract his eyebrows a little; but he always answered my
+questions in a straightforward manner. When he understood that I was
+endeavouring to see through him, and to discover in him some trace of
+repentance, he looked at me with a haughty and contemptuous air, as if I
+were a foolish little boy, to whom he did too much honour by conversing with him.</p>
+
+<p>I detected in his countenance a sort of compassion for me. After a
+moment’s pause he laughed out loud, but without the least irony. I fancy
+he must, more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> once, have laughed in the same manner, when my words
+returned to his memory. At last he wrote down his name as cured,
+although his back was not yet entirely healed. As I also was almost
+well, we left the infirmary together and returned to the convict prison,
+while he was shut up in the guard-room, where he had been imprisoned
+before. When he left me he shook me by the hand, which in his eyes was a
+great mark of confidence. I fancy he did so, because at that moment he
+was in a good humour. But in reality he must have despised me, for I was
+a feeble being, contemptible in all respects, and guilty above all of
+resignation. The next day he underwent the second half of his punishment.</p>
+
+<p>When the gates of the barracks had been closed, it assumed, in less than
+no time, quite another aspect&mdash;that of a private house, of quite a home.
+Then only did I see my convict comrades at their ease. During the day
+the under officers, or some of the other authorities, might suddenly
+arrive, so that the prisoners were then always on the look-out. They
+were only half at their ease. As soon, however, as the bolts had been
+pushed and the gates padlocked, every one sat down in his place and
+began to work. The barrack was lighted up in an unexpected manner. Each
+convict had his candle and his wooden candlestick. Some of them stitched
+boots, others sewed different kinds of garments. The air, already
+mephitic, became more and more impure.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the prisoners, huddled together in a corner, played at cards on
+a piece of carpet. In each barrack there was a prisoner who possessed a
+small piece of carpet, a candle, and a pack of horribly greasy cards.
+The owner of the cards received from the players fifteen kopecks [about
+sixpence] a night. They generally played at the “three leaves”&mdash;Gorka,
+that is to say: a game of chance. Each player placed before him a pile
+of copper money&mdash;all that he possessed&mdash;and did not get up until he had
+lost it or had broken the bank.</p>
+
+<p>Playing was continued until late at night; sometimes the dawn found the
+gamblers still at their game. Often, indeed, it did not cease until a
+few minutes before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> opening of the gates. In our room&mdash;as in all the
+others&mdash;there were beggars ruined by drink and play, or rather beggars
+innate&mdash;I say innate, and maintain my expression. Indeed, in our
+country, and in all classes, there are, and always will be, strange
+easy-going people whose destiny it is to remain always beggars. They are
+poor devils all their lives; quite broken down, they remain under the
+domination or guardianship of some one, generally a prodigal, or a man
+who has suddenly made his fortune. All initiative is for them an
+insupportable burden. They only exist on condition of undertaking
+nothing for themselves, and by serving, always living under the will of
+another. They are destined to act by and through others. Under no
+circumstances, even of the most unexpected kind, can they get rich; they
+are always beggars. I have met these persons in all classes of society,
+in all coteries, in all associations, including the literary world.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as a party was made up, one of these beggars, quite
+indispensable to the game, was summoned. He received five kopecks for a
+whole night’s employment; and what employment it was! His duty was to
+keep guard in the vestibule, with thirty degrees (R&eacute;aumur) of frost, in
+total darkness, for six or seven hours. The man on watch had to listen
+for the slightest noise, for the Major or one of the other officers of
+the guard would sometimes make a round rather late in the night. They
+arrived secretly, and sometimes discovered the players and the watchers
+in the act&mdash;thanks to the light of the candles, which could be seen from
+the court-yard.</p>
+
+<p>When the key was heard grinding in the padlock which closed the gate, it
+was too late to put the lights out and lie down on the plank bedsteads.
+Such surprises were, however, rare. Five kopecks was a ridiculous
+payment even in our convict prison, and the exigency and hardness of the
+gamblers astonished me in this as in many cases: “You are paid, you must
+do what you are told.” This was the argument, and it admitted of no
+reply. To have paid a few kopecks to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> any one gave the right to turn him
+to the best possible account, and even to claim his gratitude. More than
+once it happened to me to see the convicts spend their money
+extravagantly, throwing it away on all sides, and, at the same time,
+cheat the man employed to watch. I have seen this in several barracks on many occasions.</p>
+
+<p>I have already said that, with the exception of the gamblers, every one
+worked. Five only of the convicts remained completely idle, and went to
+bed on the first opportunity. My sleeping place was near the door. Next
+to me was Akim Akimitch, and when we were lying down our heads touched.
+He used to work until ten or eleven at making, by pasting together
+pieces of paper, multicolour lanterns, which some one living in the town
+had ordered from him, and for which he used to be well paid. He excelled
+in this kind of work, and did it methodically and regularly. When he had
+finished he put away carefully his tools, unfolded his mattress, said
+his prayers, and went to sleep with the sleep of the just. He carried
+his love of order even to pedantry, and must have thought himself in his
+inner heart a man of brains, as is generally the case with narrow,
+mediocre persons. I did not like him the first day, although he gave me
+much to think of. I was astonished that such a man could be found in a
+convict prison. I shall speak of Akimitch further on in the course of this book.</p>
+
+<p>But I must now continue to describe the persons with whom I was to live
+a number of years. Those who surrounded me were to be my companions
+every minute, and it will be understood that I looked upon them with
+anxious curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>On my left slept a band of mountaineers from the Caucasus, nearly all
+exiled for brigandage, but condemned to different punishments. There
+were two Lesghians, a Circassian, and three Tartars from Daghestan. The
+Circassian was a morose and sombre person. He scarcely ever spoke, and
+looked at you sideways with a sly, sulky, wild-beast-like expression.
+One of the Lesghians, an old man with an aquiline nose, tall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> and thin,
+seemed to be a true brigand; but the other Lesghian, Nourra by name,
+made a most favourable impression upon me. Of middle height, still
+young, built like a Hercules, with fair hair and violet eyes; he had a
+slightly turned up nose, while his features were somewhat of a Finnish
+cast. Like all horsemen, he walked with his toes in. His body was
+striped with scars, ploughed by bayonet wounds and bullets. Although he
+belonged to the conquered part of the Caucasus, he had joined the
+rebels, with whom he used to make continual incursions into our
+territory. Every one liked him in the prison by reason of his gaiety and
+affability. He worked without murmuring, always calm and peaceful.
+Thieving, cheating, and drunkenness filled him with disgust, or put him
+in a rage&mdash;not that he wished to quarrel with any one; he simply turned
+away with indignation. During his confinement he committed no breach of
+the rules. Fervently pious, he said his prayers religiously every
+evening, observed all the Mohammedan fasts like a true fanatic, and
+passed whole nights in prayer. Every one liked him, and looked upon him
+as a thoroughly honest man. “Nourra is a lion,” said the convicts; and
+the name of “Lion” stuck to him. He was quite convinced that as soon as
+he had finished his sentence he would be sent to the Caucasus. Indeed,
+he only lived by this hope, and I believe he would have died had he been
+deprived of it. I noticed it the very day of my arrival. How was it
+possible not to distinguish this calm, honest face in the midst of so
+many sombre, sardonic, repulsive countenances!</p>
+
+<p>Before I had been half-an-hour in the prison, he passed by my side and
+touched me gently on the shoulder, smiling at the same time with an
+innocent air. I did not at first understand what he meant, for he spoke
+Russian very badly; but soon afterwards he passed again, and, with a
+friendly smile, again touched me on the shoulder. For three days running
+he repeated this strange proceeding. As I soon found out, he wanted to
+show me that he pitied me, and that he felt how painful the first moment
+of imprisonment must be. He wanted to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> testify his sympathy, to keep up
+my spirits, and to assure me of his good-will. Kind and innocent Nourra!</p>
+
+<p>Of the three Tartars from Daghestan, all brothers, the two eldest were
+well-developed men, while the youngest, Ali, was not more than
+twenty-two, and looked younger. He slept by my side, and when I observed
+his frank, intelligent countenance, thoroughly natural, I was at once
+attracted to him, and thanked my fate that I had him for a neighbour in
+place of some other prisoner. His whole soul could be read in his
+beaming countenance. His confident smile had a certain childish
+simplicity; his large black eyes expressed such friendliness, such
+tender feeling, that I always took a pleasure in looking at him. It was
+a relief to me in moments of sadness and anguish. One day his eldest
+brother&mdash;he had five, of whom two were working in the mines of
+Siberia&mdash;had ordered him to take his yataghan, to get on horseback, and
+follow him. The respect of the mountaineers for their elders is so great
+that young Ali did not dare to ask the object of the expedition. He
+probably knew nothing about it, nor did his brothers consider it
+necessary to tell him. They were going to plunder the caravan of a rich
+Armenian merchant, and they succeeded in their enterprise. They
+assassinated the merchant and stole his goods. Unhappily for them, their
+act of brigandage was discovered. They were tried, flogged, and then
+sent to hard labour in Siberia. The Court admitted no extenuating
+circumstances, except in the case of Ali. He was condemned to the
+minimum punishment&mdash;four years’ confinement. These brothers loved him,
+their affection being paternal rather than fraternal. He was the only
+consolation of their exile. Dull and sad as a rule, they had always a
+smile for him when they spoke to him, which they rarely did&mdash;for they
+looked upon him as a child to whom it would be useless to speak
+seriously&mdash;their forbidding countenances lightened up. I fancied they
+always spoke to him in a jocular tone, as to an infant. When he replied,
+the brothers exchanged glances, and smiled good-naturedly.</p>
+
+<p>He would not have dared to speak to them first by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> reason of his respect
+for them. How this young man preserved his tender heart, his native
+honesty, his frank cordiality without getting perverted and corrupted
+during his period of hard labour, is quite inexplicable. In spite of his
+gentleness, he had a strong stoical nature, as I afterwards saw. Chaste
+as a young girl, everything that was foul, cynical, shameful, or unjust
+filled his fine black eyes with indignation, and made them finer than
+ever. Without being a coward, he would allow himself to be insulted with
+impunity. He avoided quarrels and insults, and preserved all his
+dignity. With whom, indeed, was he to quarrel? Every one loved him,
+caressed him.</p>
+
+<p>At first he was only polite to me; but little by little we got into the
+habit of talking together in the evening, and in a few months he had
+learnt to speak Russian perfectly, whereas his brothers never gained a
+correct knowledge of the language. He was intelligent, and at the same
+time modest and full of delicate feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Ali was an exceptional being, and I always think of my meeting him as
+one of the lucky things in my life. There are some natures so
+spontaneously good and endowed by God with such great qualities that the
+idea of their getting perverted seems absurd. One is always at ease
+about them. Accordingly I had never any fears about Ali. Where is he now?</p>
+
+<p>One day, a considerable time after my arrival at the convict prison, I
+was stretched out on my camp-bedstead agitated by painful thoughts. Ali,
+always industrious, was not working at this moment. His time for going
+to bed had not arrived. The brothers were celebrating some Mussulman
+festival, and were not working. Ali was lying down with his head between
+his hands in a state of reverie. Suddenly he said to me:</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you are very sad!”</p>
+
+<p>I looked at him with curiosity. Such a remark from Ali, always so
+delicate, so full of tact, seemed strange. But I looked at him more
+attentively, and saw so much grief, so much repressed suffering in his
+countenance&mdash;of suffering caused no doubt by sudden recollections&mdash;that
+I understood in what pain he must be, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> said so to him. He uttered a
+deep sigh, and smiled with a melancholy air. I always liked his
+graceful, agreeable smile. When he laughed, he showed two rows of teeth
+which the first beauty in the world would have envied him.</p>
+
+<p>“You were probably thinking, Ali, how this festival is celebrated in
+Daghestan. Ah, you were happy there!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” he replied with enthusiasm, and his eyes sparkled. “How did you
+know I was thinking of such things?”</p>
+
+<p>“How was I not to know? You were much better off than you are here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why do you say that?”</p>
+
+<p>“What beautiful flowers there are in your country! Is it not so? It is a
+true paradise.”</p>
+
+<p>“Be silent, please.”</p>
+
+<p>He was much agitated.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen, Ali. Had you a sister?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; why do you ask me?”</p>
+
+<p>“She must have been very beautiful if she is like you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, there is no comparison to make between us. In all Daghestan no such
+beautiful girl is to be seen. My sister is, indeed, charming. I am sure
+that you have never seen any one like her. My mother also is very handsome.”</p>
+
+<p>“And your mother was fond of you?”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you saying? Certainly she was. I am sure that she has died of
+grief, she was so fond of me. I was her favourite child. Yes, she loved
+me more than my sister, more than all the others. This very night she
+has appeared to me in a dream, she shed tears for me.”</p>
+
+<p>He was silent, and throughout the rest of the night did not open his
+mouth; but from this very moment he sought my company and my
+conversation; although very respectful, he never allowed himself to
+address me first. On the other hand he was happy when I entered into
+conversation with him. He spoke often of the Caucasus, and of his past
+life. His brothers did not forbid him to converse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> with me; I think even
+that they encouraged him to do so. When they saw that I had formed an
+attachment to him, they became more affable towards me.</p>
+
+<p>Ali often helped me in my work. In the barrack he did whatever he
+thought would be agreeable to me, and would save me trouble. In his
+attentions to me there was neither servility nor the hope of any
+advantage, but only a warm, cordial feeling, which he did not try to
+hide. He had an extraordinary aptitude for the mechanical arts. He had
+learnt to sew very tolerably, and to mend boots; he even understood a
+little carpentering&mdash;everything in short that could be learnt at the
+convict prison. His brothers were proud of him.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen, Ali,” I said to him one day, “why don’t you learn to read and
+write the Russian language, it might be very useful to you here in Siberia?”</p>
+
+<p>“I should like to do so, but who would teach me?”</p>
+
+<p>“There are plenty of people here who can read and write. I myself will
+teach you if you like.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, do teach me, I beg of you,” said Ali, raising himself up in bed; he
+joined his hands and looked at me with a suppliant air.</p>
+
+<p>We went to work the very next evening. I had with me a Russian
+translation of the New Testament, the only book that was not forbidden
+in the prison. With this book alone, without an alphabet, Ali learnt to
+read in a few weeks, and after a few months he could read perfectly. He
+brought to his studies extraordinary zeal and warmth.</p>
+
+<p>One day we were reading together the Sermon on the Mount. I noticed that
+he read certain passages with much feeling; and I asked him if he was
+pleased with what he read. He glanced at me, and his face suddenly lighted up.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes, Jesus is a holy prophet. He speaks the language of God. How
+beautiful it is!”</p>
+
+<p>“But tell me what it is that particularly pleases you.”</p>
+
+<p>“The passage in which it is said, ‘Forgive those that hate you!’ Ah! how
+divinely He speaks!”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>He turned towards his brothers, who were listening to our conversation,
+and said to them with warmth a few words. They talked together seriously
+for some time, giving their approval of what their young brother had
+said by a nodding of the head. Then with a grave, kindly smile, quite a
+Mussulman smile (I liked the gravity of this smile), they assured me
+that Isu [Jesus] was a great prophet. He had done great miracles. He had
+created a bird with a little clay on which he breathed the breath of
+life, and the bird had then flown away. That, they said, was written in
+their books. They were convinced that they would please me much by
+praising Jesus. As for Ali, he was happy to see that his brothers
+approved of our friendship, and that they were giving me, what he
+thought would be, grateful words. The success I had with my pupil in
+teaching him to write, was really extraordinary. Ali had bought paper at
+his own expense, for he would not allow me to purchase any, also pens
+and ink; and in less than two months he had learnt to write. His
+brothers were astonished at such rapid progress. Their satisfaction and
+their pride were without bounds. They did not know how to show me enough
+gratitude. At the workshop, if we happened to be together, there were
+disputes as to which of them should help me. I do not speak of Ali, he
+felt for me more affection than even for his brothers. I shall never
+forget the day on which he was liberated. He went with me outside the
+barracks, threw himself on my neck and sobbed. He had never embraced me
+before, and had never before wept in my presence.</p>
+
+<p>“You have done so much for me,” he said; “neither my father nor my
+mother have ever been kinder. You have made a man of me. God will bless
+you, I shall never forget you, never!”</p>
+
+<p>Where is he now, where is my good, kind, dear Ali?</p>
+
+<p>Besides the Circassians, we had a certain number of Poles, who formed a
+separate group. They had scarcely any relations with the other convicts.
+I have already said that, thanks to their hatred for the Russian
+prisoners, they were detested by every one. They were of a restless,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
+morbid disposition: there were six of them, some of them men of
+education, of whom I shall speak in detail further on. It was from them
+that during the last days of my imprisonment I obtained a few books. The
+first work I read made a deep impression upon me. I shall speak further
+on of these sensations, which I look upon as very curious, though it
+will be difficult to understand them. Of this I am certain, for there
+are certain things as to which one cannot judge without having
+experienced them oneself. It will be enough for me to say that
+intellectual privations are more difficult to support than the most
+frightful, physical tortures.</p>
+
+<p>A common man sent to hard labour finds himself in kindred society,
+perhaps even in a more interesting society than he has been accustomed
+to. He loses his native place, his family; but his ordinary surroundings
+are much the same as before. A man of education, condemned by law to the
+same punishment as the common man, suffers incomparably more. He must
+stifle all his needs, all his habits, he must descend into a lower
+sphere, must breathe another air. He is like a fish thrown upon the
+sand. The punishment that he undergoes, equal for all criminals
+according to the law, is ten times more severe and more painful for him
+than for the common man. This is an incontestable truth, even if one
+thinks only of the material habits that have to be sacrificed.</p>
+
+<p>I was saying that the Poles formed a group by themselves. They lived
+together, and of all the convicts in the prison, they cared only for a
+Jew, and for no other reason than because he amused them. Our Jew was
+generally liked, although every one laughed at him. We only had one, and
+even now I cannot think of him without laughing. Whenever I looked at
+him I thought of the Jew Jankel, whom Gogol describes in his Tarass
+Boulba, and who, when undressed and ready to go to bed with his Jewess
+in a sort of cupboard, resembled a fowl; but Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein and
+a plucked fowl were as like one another as two drops of water. He was
+already of a certain age&mdash;about fifty&mdash;small, feeble, cunning, and, at
+the same time, very stupid, bold, and boastful, though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> a horrible
+coward. His face was covered with wrinkles, his forehead and cheeks were
+scarred from the burning he had received in the pillory. I never
+understood how he had been able to support the sixty strokes he received.</p>
+
+<p>He had been sentenced for murder. He carried on his person a medical
+prescription which had been given to him by other Jews immediately after
+his exposure in the pillory. Thanks to the ointment prescribed, the
+scars were to disappear in less than a fortnight. He had been afraid to
+use it. He was waiting for the expiration of his twenty years (after
+which he would become a colonist) in order to utilise his famous remedy.</p>
+
+<p>“Otherwise I shall not be able to get married,” he would say; “and I
+must absolutely marry.”</p>
+
+<p>We were great friends: his good-humour was inexhaustible. The life of
+the convict prison did not seem to disagree with him. A goldsmith by
+trade, he received more orders than he could execute, for there was no
+jeweller’s shop in our town. He thus escaped his hard labour. As a
+matter of course, he lent money on pledges to the convicts, who paid him
+heavy interest. He arrived at the prison before I did. One of the Poles
+related to me his triumphal entry. It is quite a history, which I shall
+relate further on, for I shall often have to speak of Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein.</p>
+
+<p>As for the other prisoners there were, first of all, four “old
+believers,” among whom was the old man from Starodoub, two or three
+Little Russians, very morose persons, and a young convict with delicate
+features and a finely-chiselled nose, about twenty-three years of age,
+who had already committed eight murders; besides a band of coiners, one
+of whom was the buffoon of our barracks; and, finally, some sombre,
+sour-tempered convicts, shorn and disfigured, always silent, and full of
+envy. They looked askance at all who came near them, and must have
+continued to do so during a long course of years. I saw all this
+superficially on the first night of my arrival, in the midst of thick
+smoke, in a mephitic atmosphere, amid obscene oaths, accompanied by the
+rattling of chains, by insults, and cynical laughter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> I stretched
+myself out on the bare planks, my head resting on my coat, rolled up to
+do duty in lieu of a pillow, not yet supplied to me. Then I covered
+myself with my sheepskin, but, thanks to the painful impression of this
+evening, I was unable for some time to get to sleep. My new life was
+only just beginning. The future reserved for me many things which I had
+not foreseen, and of which I had never the least idea.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER VI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE FIRST MONTH</span></h3>
+
+<p>Three days after my arrival I was ordered to go to work. The impression
+left upon me to this day is still very clear, although there was nothing
+very striking in it, unless one considers that my position was in itself
+extraordinary. The first sensations count for a good deal, and I as yet
+looked upon everything with curiosity. My first three days were
+certainly the most painful of all my terms of imprisonment.</p>
+
+<p>My wandering is at an end, I said to myself every moment. I am now in
+the convict prison, my resting-place for many years. Here is where I am
+to live. I come here full of grief, who knows that when I leave it I
+shall not do so with regret? I said this to myself as one touches a
+wound, the better to feel its pain. The idea that I might regret my stay
+was terrible to me. Already I felt to what an intolerable degree man is
+a creature of habit, but this was a matter of the future. The present,
+meanwhile, was terrible enough.</p>
+
+<p>The wild curiosity with which my convict companions examined me, their
+harshness towards a former nobleman now entering into their corporation,
+a harshness which sometimes took the form of hatred&mdash;all this tormented
+me to such a degree that I felt obliged of my own accord to go to work
+in order to measure at one stroke the whole extent of my misfortune,
+that I might at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> once begin to live like the others, and fall with them
+into the same abyss.</p>
+
+<p>But convicts differ, and I had not yet disentangled from the general
+hostility the sympathy here and there manifested towards me.</p>
+
+<p>After a time the affability and good-will shown to me by certain
+convicts gave me a little courage, and restored my spirits. Most
+friendly among them was Akim Akimitch. I soon noticed some kind,
+good-natured faces in the dark and hateful crowd. Bad people are to be
+found everywhere, but even among the worst there may be something good,
+I began to think, by way of consolation. Who knows? These persons are
+perhaps not worse than others who are free. While making these
+reflections I felt some doubts, and, nevertheless, how much I was in the right!</p>
+
+<p>The convict Suchiloff, for example; a man whose acquaintance I did not
+make until long afterwards, although he was near me during nearly the
+whole period of my confinement. Whenever I speak of the convicts who are
+not worse than other men, my thoughts turn involuntarily to him. He
+acted as my servant, together with another prisoner named Osip, whom
+Akim Akimitch had recommended to me immediately after my arrival. For
+thirty kopecks a month this man agreed to cook me a separate dinner, in
+case I should not be able to put up with the ordinary prison fare, and
+should be able to pay for my own food. Osip was one of the four cooks
+chosen by the prisoners in our two kitchens. I may observe that they
+were at liberty to refuse these duties, and give them up whenever they
+might think fit. The cooks were men from whom hard labour was not
+expected. They had to bake bread and prepare the cabbage soup. They were
+called “cook-maids,” not from contempt, for the men chosen were always
+the most intelligent, but merely in fun. The name given to them did not
+annoy them.</p>
+
+<p>For many years past Osip had been constantly selected as “cook-maid.” He
+never refused the duty except when he was out of sorts, or when he saw
+an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> opportunity of getting spirits into the barracks. Although he had
+been sent to the convict prison as a smuggler, he was remarkably honest
+and good-tempered (I have spoken of him before); at the same time he was
+a dreadful coward, and feared the rod above all things. Of a peaceful,
+patient disposition, affable with everybody, he never got into quarrels;
+but he could never resist the temptation of bringing spirits in,
+notwithstanding his cowardice, and simply from his love of smuggling.
+Like all the other cooks he dealt in spirits, but on a much less
+extensive scale than Gazin, because he was afraid of running the same
+risks. I always lived on good terms with Osip. To have a separate table
+it was not necessary to be very rich; it cost me only one rouble a month
+apart from the bread, which was given to us. Sometimes when I was very
+hungry I made up my mind to eat the cabbage soup, in spite of the
+disgust with which it generally filled me. After a time this disgust
+entirely disappeared. I generally bought one pound of meat a day, which
+cost me two kopecks&mdash;[5 kopecks = 2 pence.]</p>
+
+<p>The old soldiers, who watched over the internal discipline of the
+barracks, were ready, good-naturedly, to go every day to the market to
+make purchases for the convicts. For this they received no pay, except
+from time to time a trifling present. They did it for the sake of their
+peace; their life in the convict prison would have been a perpetual
+torment had they refused. They used to bring in tobacco, tea,
+meat&mdash;everything, in short, that was desired, always excepting spirits.</p>
+
+<p>For many years Osip prepared for me every day a piece of roast meat. How
+he managed to get it cooked was a secret. What was strangest in the
+matter was, that during all this time I scarcely exchanged two words
+with him. I tried many times to make him talk, but he was incapable of
+keeping up a conversation. He would only smile and answer my questions
+by “yes” or “no.” He was a Hercules, but he had no more intelligence
+than a child of seven.</p>
+
+<p>Suchiloff was also one of those who helped me. I had never asked him to
+do so, he attached himself to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> on his own account, and I scarcely
+remember when he began to do so. His principal duty consisted in washing
+my linen. For this purpose there was a basin in the middle of the
+court-yard, round which the convicts washed their clothes in prison buckets.</p>
+
+<p>Suchiloff had found means for rendering me a number of little services.
+He boiled my tea-urn, ran right and left to perform various commissions
+for me, got me all kinds of things, mended my clothes, and greased my
+boots four times a month. He did all this in a zealous manner, with a
+business-like air, as if he felt all the weight of the duties he was
+performing. He seemed quite to have joined his fate to mine, and
+occupied himself with all my affairs. He never said: “You have so many
+shirts, or your waistcoat is torn;” but, “We have so many shirts, and
+our waistcoat is torn.” I had somehow inspired him with admiration, and
+I really believe that I had become his sole care in life. As he knew no
+trade whatever his only source of income was from me, and it must be
+understood that I paid him very little; but he was always pleased,
+whatever he might receive. He would have been without means had he not
+been a servant of mine, and he gave me the preference because I was more
+affable than the others, and, above all, more equitable in money
+matters. He was one of those beings who never get rich, and never know
+how to manage their affairs; one of those in the prison who were hired
+by the gamblers to watch all night in the ante-chamber, listening for
+the least noise that might announce the arrival of the Major. If there
+was a night visit they received nothing, indeed their back paid for
+their want of attention. One thing which marks this kind of men is their
+entire absence of individuality, which they seem entirely to have lost.</p>
+
+<p>Suchiloff was a poor, meek fellow; all the courage seemed to have been
+beaten out of him, although he had in reality been born meek. For
+nothing in the world would he have raised his hand against any one in
+the prison. I always pitied him without knowing why. I could not look at
+him without feeling the deepest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> compassion for him. If asked to explain
+this, I should find it impossible to do so. I could never get him to
+talk, and he never became animated, except when, to put an end to all
+attempts at conversation, I gave him something to do, or told him to go
+somewhere for me. I soon found that he loved to be ordered about.
+Neither tall nor short, neither ugly nor handsome, neither stupid nor
+intelligent, neither old nor young, it would be difficult to describe in
+any definite manner this man, except that his face was slightly pitted
+with the small-pox, and that he had fair hair. He belonged, as far as I
+could make out, to the same company as Sirotkin. The prisoners sometimes
+laughed at him because he had “exchanged.” During the march to Siberia
+he had exchanged for a red shirt and a silver rouble. It was thought
+comical that he should have sold himself for such a small sum, to take
+the name of another prisoner in place of his own, and consequently to
+accept the other’s sentence. Strange as it may appear it was
+nevertheless true. This custom, which had become traditional, and still
+existed at the time I was sent to Siberia, I, at first, refused to
+believe, but found afterwards that it really existed. This is how the
+exchange was effected:</p>
+
+<p>A company of prisoners started for Siberia. Among them there are exiles
+of all kinds, some condemned to hard labour, others to labour in the
+mines, others to simple colonisation. On the way out, no matter at what
+stage of the journey, in the Government of Perm, for instance, a
+prisoner wishes to exchange with another man, who&mdash;we will say he is
+named Mikhailoff&mdash;has been condemned to hard labour for a capital
+offence, and does not like the prospect of passing long years without
+his liberty. He knows, in his cunning, what to do. He looks among his
+comrades for some simple, weak-minded fellow, whose punishment is less
+severe, who has been condemned to a few years in the mines, or to hard
+labour, or has perhaps been simply exiled. At last he finds such a man
+as Suchiloff, a former serf, sentenced only to become a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> colonist. The
+man has made fifteen hundred versts [about one thousand miles] without a
+kopeck, for the good reason that a Suchiloff is always without money;
+fatigued, exhausted, he can get nothing to eat beyond the fixed rations,
+nothing to wear in addition to the convict uniform.</p>
+
+<p>Mikhailoff gets into conversation with Suchiloff, they suit one another,
+and they strike up a friendship. At last at some station Mikhailoff
+makes his comrade drunk, then he will ask him if he will “exchange.”</p>
+
+<p>“My name is Mikhailoff,” he says to him, “condemned to what is called
+hard labour, but which, in my own case, will be nothing of the kind, as
+I am to enter a particular special section. I am classed with the
+hard-labour men, but in my special division the labour is not so severe.”</p>
+
+<p>Before the special section was abolished, many persons in the official
+world, even at St. Petersburg, were unaware even of its existence. It
+was in such a retired corner of one of the most distant regions of
+Siberia, that it was difficult to know anything about it. It was
+insignificant, moreover, from the number of persons belonging to it. In
+my time they numbered altogether only seventy. I have since met men who
+have served in Siberia, and know the country well, and yet have never
+heard of the “special section.” In the rules and regulations there are
+only six lines about this institution. Attached to the convict prison of
+---- is a special section reserved for the most dangerous criminals,
+while the severest labours are being prepared for them. The prisoners
+themselves knew nothing of this special section. Did it exist
+temporarily or constantly? Neither Suchiloff nor any of the prisoners
+being sent out, not Mikhailoff himself could guess the significance of
+those two words. Mikhailoff, however, had his suspicion as to the true
+character of this section. He formed his opinion from the gravity of the
+crime for which he was made to march three or four thousand versts on
+foot. It was certain that he was not being sent to a place where he
+would be at his ease. Suchiloff was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> to be a colonist. What could
+Mikhailoff desire better than that?</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t you change?” he asks. Suchiloff is a little drunk, he is a
+simple-minded man, full of gratitude to the comrade who entertains him,
+and dare not refuse; he has heard, moreover, from other prisoners, that
+these exchanges are made, and understands, therefore, that there is
+nothing extraordinary, unheard-of, in the proposition made to him. An
+agreement is come to, the cunning Mikhailoff, profiting by Suchiloff’s
+simplicity, buys his name for a red shirt, and a silver rouble, which
+are given before witnesses. The next day Suchiloff is sober; but more
+liquor is given to him. Then he drinks up his own rouble, and after a
+while the red shirt has the same fate.</p>
+
+<p>“If you don’t like the bargain we made, give me back my money,” says
+Mikhailoff. But where is Suchiloff to get a rouble? If he does not give
+it back, the “artel” [<i>i.e.</i>, the association&mdash;in this case of convicts]
+will force him to keep his promise. The prisoners are very sensitive on
+such points: he must keep his promise. The “artel” requires it, and, in
+case of disobedience, woe to the offender! He will be killed, or at
+least seriously intimidated. If indeed the “artel” once showed mercy to
+the men who had broken their word, there would be an end to its
+existence. If the given word can be recalled, and the bargain put an end
+to after the stipulated sum has been paid, who would be bound by such an
+agreement? It is a question of life or death for the “artel.”
+Accordingly the prisoners are very severe on the point.</p>
+
+<p>Suchiloff then finds that it is impossible to go back, that nothing can
+save him, and he accordingly agrees to all that is demanded of him. The
+bargain is then made known to all the convoy, and if denunciations are
+feared, the men looked upon as suspicious are entertained. What,
+moreover, does it matter to the others whether Mikhailoff or Suchiloff
+goes to the devil? They have had gratuitous drinks, they have been
+feasted for nothing, and the secret is kept by all.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p><p>At the next station the names are called. When Mikhailoff’s turn
+arrives, Suchiloff answers “present,” Mikhailoff replies “present” for
+Suchiloff, and the journey is continued. The matter is not now even
+talked about. At Tobolsk the prisoners are told off. Mikhailoff will
+become a colonist, while Suchiloff is sent to the special section under
+a double escort. It would be useless now to cry out, to protest, for
+what proof could be given? How many years would it take to decide the
+affair, what benefit would the complainant derive? Where, moreover, are
+the witnesses? They would deny everything, even if they could be found.</p>
+
+<p>That is how Suchiloff, for a silver rouble and a red shirt, came to be
+sent to the special section. The prisoners laughed at him, not because
+he had exchanged&mdash;though in general they despised those who had been
+foolish enough to exchange a work that was easy for a work that was
+hard&mdash;but simply because he had received nothing for the bargain except
+a red shirt and a rouble&mdash;certainly a ridiculous compensation.</p>
+
+<p>Generally speaking, the exchanges are made for relatively large sums;
+several ten-rouble notes sometimes change hands. But Suchiloff was so
+characterless, so insignificant, so null, that he could scarcely even be
+laughed at. We lived a considerable time together, he and I; I had got
+accustomed to him, and he had formed an attachment for me. One day,
+however&mdash;I can never forgive myself for what I did&mdash;he had not executed
+my orders, and when he came to ask me for his money I had the cruelty to
+say to him, “You don’t forget to ask for your money, but you don’t do
+what you are told.” Suchiloff remained silent and hastened to do as he
+was ordered, but he suddenly became very sad. Two days passed. I could
+not believe that what I had said to him could affect him so much. I knew
+that a person named Vassilieff was claiming from him in a morose manner
+payment of a small debt. Suchiloff was probably short of money, and did
+not dare to ask me for any.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p><p>“Suchiloff, you wish, I think, to ask me for some money to pay
+Vassilieff; take this.”</p>
+
+<p>I was seated on my camp-bedstead. Suchiloff remained standing up before
+me, much astonished that I myself should propose to give him money, and
+that I remembered his difficult position; the more so as latterly he had
+asked me several times for money in advance, and could scarcely hope
+that I should give him any more. He looked at the paper I held out to
+him, then looked at me, turned sharply on his heel and went out. I was
+as astonished as I could be. I went out after him, and found him at the
+back of the barracks. He was standing up with his face against the
+palisade and his arms resting on the stakes.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter, Suchiloff?” I asked him.</p>
+
+<p>He made no reply, and to my stupefaction I saw that he was on the point
+of bursting into tears.</p>
+
+<p>“You think, Alexander Petrovitch,” he said, in a trembling voice, in
+endeavouring not to look at me, “that I care only for your money, but I&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>He turned away from me, and struck the palisade with his forehead and
+began to sob. It was the first time in the convict prison that I had
+seen a man weep. I had much trouble in consoling him; and he afterwards
+served me, if possible, with more zeal than ever. He watched for my
+orders, but by almost imperceptible indications I could see that his
+heart would never forgive me for my reproach. Meanwhile other men
+laughed at him and teased him whenever the opportunity presented itself,
+and even insulted him without his losing his temper; on the contrary, he
+still remained on good terms with them. It is indeed difficult to know a
+man, even after having lived long years with him.</p>
+
+<p>The convict prison had not at first for me the significance it was
+afterwards to assume. I was at first, in spite of my attention, unable
+to understand many facts which were staring me in the face. I was
+naturally first struck by the most salient points, but I saw them from a
+false point of view, and the only impression they made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> upon me was one
+of unmitigated sadness. What contributed above all to this result was my
+meeting with A&mdash;&mdash;f, the convict who had come to the prison before me,
+and who had astonished me in such a painful manner during the first few
+days. The effect of his baseness was to aggravate my moral suffering,
+already sufficiently cruel. He offered the most repulsive example of the
+kind of degradation and baseness to which a man may fall when all
+feeling of honour has perished within him. This young man of noble
+birth&mdash;I have spoken of him before&mdash;used to repeat to the Major all that
+was done in the barracks, and in doing so through the Major’s
+body-servant Fedka. Here is the man’s history.</p>
+
+<p>Arrived at St. Petersburg before he had finished his studies, after a
+quarrel with his parents, whom his life of debauchery had terrified, he
+had not shrunk for the sake of money from doing the work of an informer.
+He did not hesitate to sell the blood of ten men in order to satisfy his
+insatiable thirst for the grossest and most licentious pleasures. At
+last he became so completely perverted in the St. Petersburg taverns and
+houses of ill-fame, that he did not hesitate to take part in an affair
+which he knew to be conceived in madness&mdash;for he was not without
+intelligence. He was condemned to exile and ten years’ hard labour in
+Siberia. One might have thought that such a frightful blow would have
+shocked him, that it would have caused some reaction and brought about a
+crisis; but he accepted his new fate without the least confusion. It did
+not frighten him; all that he feared in it was the necessity of working,
+and of giving up for ever his habits of debauchery. The name of convict
+had no effect but to prepare him for new acts of baseness, and more
+hideous villainies than any he had previously perpetrated.</p>
+
+<p>“I am now a convict, and can crawl at ease, without shame.”</p>
+
+<p>That was the light in which he looked upon his new position. I think of
+this disgusting creature as of some monstrous phenomenon. During the
+many years I have lived in the midst of murderers, debauchees, and
+proved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> rascals, never in my life did I meet a case of such complete
+moral abasement, determined corruption, and shameless baseness. Among us
+there was a parricide of noble birth. I have already spoken of him; but
+I could see by several signs that he was much better and more humane
+than A&mdash;&mdash;f. During the whole time of my punishment, he was never
+anything more in my eyes than a piece of flesh furnished with teeth and
+a stomach, greedy for the most offensive and ferocious animal
+enjoyments, for the satisfaction of which he was ready to assassinate
+anyone. I do not exaggerate in the least; I recognised in A&mdash;&mdash;f one of
+the most perfect specimens of animality, restrained by no principles, no
+rule. How much I was disgusted by his eternal smile! He was a monster&mdash;a
+moral Quasimodo. He was at the same time intelligent, cunning,
+good-looking, had received some education, and possessed a certain
+capacity. Fire, plague, famine, no matter what scourge, is preferable to
+the presence of such a man in human society. I have already said that in
+the convict prison espionage and denunciation flourished as the natural
+product of degradation, without the convicts thinking much of it. On the
+contrary, they maintained friendly relations with A&mdash;&mdash;f. They were more
+affable with him than with any one else. The kindly attitude towards him
+of our drunken friend, the Major, gave him a certain importance, and
+even a certain worth in the eyes of the convicts. Later on, this
+cowardly wretch ran away with another convict and the soldier in charge
+of them; but of this I shall speak in proper time and place. At first,
+he hung about me, thinking I did not know his history. I repeat that he
+poisoned the first days of my imprisonment so as to drive me nearly to
+despair. I was terrified by the mass of baseness and cowardice in the
+midst of which I had been thrown. I imagined that every one else was as
+foul and cowardly as he. But I made a mistake in supposing that every
+one resembled A&mdash;&mdash;f.</p>
+
+<p>During the first three days I did nothing but wander about the convict
+prison, when I did not remain stretched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> out on my camp-bedstead. I
+entrusted to a prisoner of whom I was sure, the piece of linen which had
+been delivered to me by the administration, in order that he might make
+me some shirts. Always on the advice of Akim Akimitch, I got myself a
+folding mattress. It was in felt, covered with linen, as thin as a
+pancake, and very hard to any one who was not accustomed to it. Akim
+Akimitch promised to get me all the most essential things, and with his
+own hands made me a blanket out of a piece of old cloth, cut and sewn
+together from all the old trousers and waistcoats which I had bought
+from various prisoners. The clothes delivered to them, when they have
+been worn the regulation time, become the property of the prisoners.
+They at once sell them, for however much worn an article of clothing may
+be, it always possesses a certain value. I was very much astonished by
+all this, above all at the outset, during my first relations with this
+world. I became as low as my companions, as much a convict as they.
+Their customs, their habits, their ideas influenced me thoroughly, and
+externally became my own, without affecting my inner self. I was
+astonished and confused as though I had never heard or suspected
+anything of the kind before, and yet I knew what to expect, or at least
+what had been told me. The thing itself, however, produced on me a
+different impression from the mere description of it. How could I
+suppose, for instance, that old rags possessed still some value? And,
+nevertheless, my blanket was made up entirely of tatters. It would be
+difficult to describe the cloth out of which the clothes of the convicts
+were made. It was like the thick, gray cloth manufactured for the
+soldiers, but as soon as it had been worn some little time it showed the
+threads and tore with abominable ease. The uniform ought to have lasted
+for a whole year, but it never went so long as that. The prisoner
+labours, carries heavy burdens, and the cloth naturally wears out, and
+gets into holes very quickly. Our sheepskins were intended to be worn
+for three years. During the whole of that time they served as outer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+garments, blankets, and pillows, but they were very solid. Nevertheless,
+at the end of the third year, it was not rare to see them mended with
+ordinary linen. Although they were now very much worn, it was always
+possible to sell them at the rate of forty kopecks a piece, the best
+preserved ones even at the price of sixty kopecks, which was a great sum
+for the convict prison.</p>
+
+<p>Money, as I have before said, has a sovereign value in such a place. It
+is certain that a prisoner who has some pecuniary resources suffers ten
+times less than the one who has nothing.</p>
+
+<p>“When the Government supplies all the wants of the convict, what need
+can he have for money?” reasoned our chief.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, I repeat that if the prisoners had been deprived of the
+opportunity of possessing something of their own, they would have lost
+their reason, or would have died like flies. They would have committed
+unheard-of crimes; some from wearisomeness or grief, the others, in
+order to get sooner punished, and, according to their expression, “have
+a change.” If the convict who has gained some kopecks by the sweat of
+his brow, who has embarked in perilous undertakings in order to conquer
+them, if he spends this money recklessly, with childish stupidity, that
+does not the least in the world prove that he does not know its value,
+as might at first sight be thought. The convict is greedy for money, to
+the point of losing his reason, and, if he throws it away, he does so in
+order to procure what he places far above money&mdash;liberty, or at least a
+semblance of liberty.</p>
+
+<p>Convicts are great dreamers; I will speak of that further on with more
+detail. At present I will confine myself to saying that I have heard
+men, who had been condemned to twenty years’ hard labour, say, with a
+quiet air, “when I have finished my time, if God wishes, then&mdash;&mdash;” The
+very words hard labour, or forced labour, indicate that the man has lost
+his freedom; and when this man spends his money he is carrying out his own will.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p><p>In spite of the branding and the chains, in spite of the palisade which
+hides from his eyes the free world, and encloses him in a cage like a
+wild beast, he can get himself spirits and other delights; sometimes
+even (not always), corrupt his immediate superintendents, the old
+soldiers and non-commissioned officers, and get them to close their eyes
+to his infractions of discipline within the prison. He can,
+moreover&mdash;what he adores&mdash;swagger; that is to say, impress his
+companions and persuade himself for a time, that he enjoys more liberty
+than he really possesses. The poor devil wishes, in a word, to convince
+himself of what he knows to be impossible. This is why the prisoners
+take such pleasure in boasting and exaggerating in burlesque fashion
+their own unhappy personality.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, they run some risk when they give themselves up to this
+boasting; in which again they find a semblance of life and liberty&mdash;the
+only thing they care for. Would not a millionaire with a rope round his
+neck give all his millions for one breath of air? A prisoner has lived
+quietly for several years in succession, his conduct has been so
+exemplary that he has been rewarded by special exemptions. Suddenly, to
+the great astonishment of his chiefs, this man becomes mutinous, plays
+the very devil, and does not recoil from a capital crime such as
+assassination, violation, etc. Every one is astounded at the cause of
+this unexpected explosion on the part of a man thought incapable of such
+a thing. It is the convulsive manifestation of his personality, an
+instinctive melancholia, an uncontrollable desire for self-assertion,
+all of which obscures his reason. It is a sort of epileptic attack, a
+spasm. A man buried alive who suddenly wakes up must strike in a similar
+manner against the lid of his coffin. He tries to rise up, to push it
+from him, although his reason must convince him of the uselessness of his efforts.</p>
+
+<p>Reason, however, has nothing to do with this convulsion. It must not be
+forgotten that almost every voluntary manifestation on the part of a
+convict is looked upon as a crime. Accordingly, it is a perfect matter
+of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> indifference to them whether this manifestation be important or
+insignificant, debauch for debauch, danger for danger. It is just as
+well to go to the end, even as far as a murder. The only difficulty is
+the first step. Little by little the man becomes excited, intoxicated,
+and can no longer contain himself. For that reason it would be better
+not to drive him to extremities. Everybody would be much better for it.</p>
+
+<p>But how can this be managed?</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER VII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE FIRST MONTH (<i>continued</i>)</span></h3>
+
+<p>When I entered the convict prison I possessed a small sum of money; but
+I carried very little of it about with me, lest it should be
+confiscated. I had gummed some banknotes into the binding of my New
+Testament&mdash;the only book authorised in the convict prison. This New
+Testament had been given to me at Tobolsk, by a person who had been
+exiled some dozens of years, and who had got accustomed to see in other
+“unfortunates” a brother.</p>
+
+<p>There are in Siberia people who pass their lives in giving brotherly
+assistance to the “unfortunates.” They feel the same sympathy for them
+that they would have for their own children. Their compassion is
+something sacred and quite disinterested. I cannot help here relating in
+some words a meeting which I had at this time.</p>
+
+<p>In the town where we were then imprisoned lived a widow, Nastasia
+Ivanovna. Naturally, none of us were in direct relations with this
+woman. She had made it the object of her life to come to the assistance
+of all the exiles; but, above all, of us convicts. Had there been some
+misfortune in her family? Had some person dear to her undergone a
+punishment similar to ours? I do not know. In any case, she did for us
+whatever she could. It is true she could do very little, for she was
+very poor. But we felt when we were shut up in the convict prison that,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>
+outside, we had a devoted friend. She often brought us news, which we
+were very glad to hear, for nothing of the kind reached us.</p>
+
+<p>When I left the prison to be taken to another town, I had the
+opportunity of calling upon her and making her acquaintance. She lived
+in one of the suburbs, at the house of a near relation.</p>
+
+<p>Nastasia Ivanovna was neither old nor young, neither pretty nor ugly. It
+was difficult, impossible even, to know whether she was intelligent and
+well-bred. But in her actions could be seen infinite compassion, an
+irresistible desire to please, to solace, to be in some way agreeable.
+All this could be read in the sweetness of her smile.</p>
+
+<p>I passed an entire evening at her house, with other companions of my
+imprisonment. She looked us straight in the face, laughed when we
+laughed, did everything we asked her, in conversation was always of our
+opinion, and did her best in every way to entertain us. She gave us tea
+and various little delicacies. If she had been rich we felt sure she
+would have been pleased, if only to be able to entertain us better and
+offer for us some solid consolation.</p>
+
+<p>When we wished her “good-bye,” she gave us each a present of a cardboard
+cigar-case as a souvenir. She had made them herself&mdash;Heaven knows
+how&mdash;with coloured paper, the paper with which school-boys’ copy-books
+are covered. All round this cardboard cigar-case she had gummed, by way
+of ornamentation, a thin edge of gilt paper.</p>
+
+<p>“As you smoke, these cigar-cases will perhaps be of use to you,” she
+said, as if excusing herself for making such a present.</p>
+
+<p>There are people who say, as I have read and heard, that a great love
+for one’s neighbour is only a form of selfishness. What selfishness
+could there be in this? That I could never understand.</p>
+
+<p>Although I had not much money when I entered the convict prison, I could
+not nevertheless feel seriously annoyed with convicts who, immediately
+on my arrival, after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> having deceived me once, came to borrow of me a
+second, a third time, and even oftener. But I admitted frankly that what
+did annoy me was the thought that all these people, with their smiling
+knavery, must take me for a fool, and laugh at me just because I lent
+the money for the fifth time. It must have seemed to them that I was the
+dupe of their tricks and their deceit. If, on the contrary, I had
+refused them and sent them away, I am certain that they would have had
+much more respect for me. Still, though it vexed me very much, I could
+not refuse them.</p>
+
+<p>I was rather anxious during the first days to know what footing I should
+hold in the convict prison, and what rule of conduct I should follow
+with my companions. I felt and perfectly understood that the place being
+in every way new to me, I was walking in darkness, and it would be
+impossible for me to live for ten years in darkness. I decided to act
+frankly, according to the dictates of my conscience and my personal
+feeling. But I also knew that this decision might be very well in
+theory, and that I should, in practice, be governed by unforeseen
+events. Accordingly, in addition to all the petty annoyances caused to
+me by my confinement in the convict prison, one terrible anguish laid
+hold of me and tormented me more and more.</p>
+
+<p>“The dead-house!” I said to myself when night fell, and I looked from
+the threshold of our barracks at the prisoners just returned from their
+labours and walking about in the court-yard, from the kitchen to the
+barracks, and <i>vice vers&acirc;</i>. As I examined their movements and their
+physiognomies I endeavoured to guess what sort of men they were, and
+what their disposition might be.</p>
+
+<p>They lounged about in front of me, some with lowered brows, others full
+of gaiety&mdash;one of these expressions was seen on every convict’s
+face&mdash;exchanged insults or talked on indifferent matters. Sometimes,
+too, they wandered about in solitude, occupied apparently with their own
+reflections; some of them with a worn-out, pathetic look, others with a
+conceited air of superiority. Yes, here, even here!&mdash;their cap balanced
+on the side of their head,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> their sheepskin coat picturesquely over the
+shoulder, insolence in their eyes and mockery on their lips.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is the world to which I am condemned, in which, in spite of
+myself, I must somehow live,” I said to myself.</p>
+
+<p>I endeavoured to question Akim Akimitch, with whom I liked to take my
+tea, in order not to be alone, for I wanted to know something about the
+different convicts. In parenthesis I must say that the tea, at the
+beginning of my imprisonment, was almost my only food. Akim Akimitch
+never refused to take tea with me, and he himself heated our tin
+tea-urns, made in the convict prison and let out to me by M&mdash;&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>Akim Akimitch generally drank a glass of tea (he had glasses of his own)
+calmly and silently, then thanked me when he had finished, and at once
+went to work on my blanket; but he had not been able to tell me what I
+wanted to know, and did not even understand my desire to know the
+dispositions of the people surrounding me. He listened to me with a
+cunning smile which I have still before my eyes. No, I thought, I must
+find out for myself; it is useless to interrogate others.</p>
+
+<p>The fourth day, the convicts were drawn up in two ranks, early in the
+morning, in the court-yard before the guard-house, close to the prison
+gates. Before and behind them were soldiers with loaded muskets and fixed bayonets.</p>
+
+<p>The soldier has the right to fire on the convict if he tries to escape.
+But, on the other hand, he is answerable for his shot, if there was no
+absolute necessity for him to fire. The same thing applies to revolts.
+But who would think of openly taking to flight?</p>
+
+<p>The Engineer officer arrived accompanied by the so-called “conductor”
+and by some non-commissioned officers of the Line, together with sappers
+and soldiers told off to superintend the labours of the convicts.</p>
+
+<p>The roll was called. Then the convicts who were going to the tailors’
+workshop started first. These men worked inside the prison, and made
+clothes for all the inmates. The other exiles went into the outer
+workshops,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> until at last arrived the turn of the prisoners destined for
+field labour. I was of this number&mdash;there were altogether twenty of us.
+Behind the fortress on the frozen river were two barges belonging to the
+Government, which were not worth anything, but which had to be taken to
+pieces in order that the wood might not be lost. The wood was in itself
+all but valueless, for firewood can be bought in the town at a nominal
+price. The whole country is covered with forests.</p>
+
+<p>This work was given to us in order that we might not remain with our
+arms crossed. This was understood on both sides. Accordingly, we went to
+it apathetically; though just the contrary happened when work had to be
+done, which would be profitable, or when a fixed task was assigned to
+us. In this latter case, although prisoners were to derive no profit
+from their work, they tried to get it over as soon as possible, and took
+a pride in doing it quickly. When such work as I am speaking of had to
+be done as a matter of form, rather than because it was necessary, task
+work could not be asked for. We had to go on until the beating of the
+drum at eleven o’clock called back the convicts.</p>
+
+<p>The day was warm and foggy, the snow was on the point of melting. Our
+entire band walked towards the bank behind the fortress, shaking lightly
+their chains hid beneath their garments: the sound came forth clear and
+ringing. Two or three convicts went to get their tools from the d&eacute;p&ocirc;t.</p>
+
+<p>I walked on with the others. I had become a little animated, for I
+wanted to see and know in what this field labour consisted, to what sort
+of work I was condemned, and how I should do it for the first time in my life.</p>
+
+<p>I remember the smallest particulars. We met, as we were walking along, a
+townsman with a long beard, who stopped and slipped his hand into his
+pocket. A prisoner left our party, took off his cap and received
+alms&mdash;to the extent of five kopecks&mdash;then came back hurriedly towards
+us. The townsman made the sign of the cross and went his way. The five
+kopecks were spent the same morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> in buying cakes of white bread
+which were shared equally among us. In my squad some were gloomy and
+taciturn, others indifferent and indolent. There were some who talked in
+an idle manner. One of these men was extremely gay, heaven knows why. He
+sang and danced as we went along, shaking and ringing his chains at each
+step. This fat and corpulent convict was the very one who, on the very
+day of my arrival during the general washing, had a quarrel with one of
+his companions about the water, and had ventured to compare him to some
+sort of bird. His name was Scuratoff. He finished by shouting out a
+lively song of which I remember the burden:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>They married me without my consent,</div>
+<div>When I was at the mill.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Nothing was wanting but a balalaika [the Russian banjo].</p>
+
+<p>His extraordinary good-humour was justly reproved by several of the
+prisoners, who were offended by it.</p>
+
+<p>“Listen to his hallooing,” said one of the convicts, “though it doesn’t
+become him.”</p>
+
+<p>“The wolf has but one song; this Tuliak [inhabitant of Tula] is stealing
+it from him,” said another, who could be recognised by his accent as a
+Little Russian.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course I am from Tula,” replied Scuratoff; “but we don’t stuff
+ourselves to bursting as you do in your Pultava.”</p>
+
+<p>“Liar! what did you eat yourself? Bark shoes and cabbage soup?”</p>
+
+<p>“You talk as if the devil fed you on sweet almonds,” broke in a third.</p>
+
+<p>“I admit, my friend, that I am an effeminate man,” said Scuratoff with a
+gentle sigh, as though he were really reproaching himself for his
+effeminacy. “From my most tender infancy I was brought up in luxury, fed
+on plums and delicate cakes. My brothers even now have a large business
+at Moscow. They are wholesale dealers in the wind that blows; immensely
+rich men, as you may imagine.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p><p>“And what did you sell?”</p>
+
+<p>“I was very successful, and when I received my first two hundred&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Roubles? impossible!” interrupted one of the prisoners, struck with
+amazement at hearing of so large a sum.</p>
+
+<p>“No, my good fellow, not two hundred roubles, two hundred blows of the
+stick. Luka; I say Luka!”</p>
+
+<p>“Some have the right to call me Luka, but for you I am Luka Kouzmitch,”
+replied rather ill-temperedly a small, feeble convict with a pointed nose.</p>
+
+<p>“The devil take you, you are really not worth speaking to; yet I wanted
+to be civil to you. But to continue my story; this is how it happened
+that I did not remain any longer at Moscow. I received my fifteen last
+strokes and was then sent off, and was at&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“But what were you sent for?” asked a convict who had been listening attentively.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t ask stupid questions. I was explaining to you how it was I did
+not make my fortune at Moscow; and yet how anxious I was to be rich, you
+could scarcely imagine how much.”</p>
+
+<p>Many of the prisoners began to laugh. Scuratoff was one of those lively
+persons, full of animal spirits, who take a pleasure in amusing their
+graver companions, and who, as a matter of course, received no reward
+except insults. He belonged to a type of men, to whose characteristics I
+shall, perhaps, have to return.</p>
+
+<p>“And what a fellow he is now!” observed Luka Kouzmitch. “His clothes
+alone must be worth a hundred roubles.”</p>
+
+<p>Scuratoff had the oldest and greasiest sheepskin that could be seen. It
+was mended in many different places with pieces that scarcely hung
+together. He looked at Luka attentively from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>“It is my head, friend,” he said, “my head that is worth money. When I
+took farewell of Moscow, I was half consoled, because my head was to
+make the journey on my shoulders. Farewell, Moscow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> I shall never
+forget your free air, nor the tremendous flogging I got. As for my
+sheepskin, you are not obliged to look at it.”</p>
+
+<p>“You would like me, perhaps, to look at your head?”</p>
+
+<p>“If it was really his own natural property, but it was given him in
+charity,” cried Luka Kouzmitch. “It was a gift made to him at Tumen,
+when the convoy was passing through the town.”</p>
+
+<p>“Scuratoff, had you a workshop?”</p>
+
+<p>“What workshop could he have? He was only a cobbler,” said one of the convicts.</p>
+
+<p>“It is true,” said Scuratoff, without noticing the caustic tone of the
+speaker. “I tried to mend boots, but I never got beyond a single pair.”</p>
+
+<p>“And were you paid for them?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I found a fellow who certainly neither feared God nor honoured
+either his father or his mother, and as a punishment, Providence made
+him buy the work of my hands.”</p>
+
+<p>The men around Scuratoff burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“I also worked once at the convict prison,” continued Scuratoff, with
+imperturbable coolness. “I did up the boots of Stepan Fedoritch, the lieutenant.”</p>
+
+<p>“And was he satisfied?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, my dear fellows, indeed he was not; he blackguarded me enough to
+last me for the rest of my life. He also pushed me from behind with his
+knee. What a rage he was in! Ah! my life has deceived me. I see no fun
+in the convict prison whatever.” He began to sing again.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>Akolina’s husband is in the court-yard.</div>
+<div class="i1">There he waits.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Again he sang, and again he danced and leaped.</p>
+
+<p>“Most unbecoming!” murmured the Little Russian, who was walking by my side.</p>
+
+<p>“Frivolous man!” said another in a serious, decided tone.</p>
+
+<p>I could not make out why they insulted Scuratoff,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> nor why they despised
+those convicts who were light-hearted, as they seemed to do. I
+attributed the anger of the Little Russian and the others to a feeling
+of personal hostility, but in this I was wrong. They were vexed that
+Scuratoff had not that puffed-up air of false dignity with which the
+whole of the convict prison was impregnated.</p>
+
+<p>They did not, however, get annoyed with all the jokers, nor treat them
+all like Scuratoff. Some of them were men who would stand no nonsense,
+and forgive no one voluntarily or involuntarily. It was necessary to
+treat them with respect. There was in our band a convict of this very
+kind, a good-natured, lively fellow, whom I did not see in his true
+light until later on. He was a tall young fellow, with pleasant manners,
+and not without good looks. There was at the same time a very comic
+expression on his face.</p>
+
+<p>He was called the Sapper, because he had served in the Engineers. He
+belonged to the special section.</p>
+
+<p>But all the serious-minded convicts were not so particular as the Little
+Russian, who could not bear to see people gay.</p>
+
+<p>We had in our prison several men who aimed at a certain pre-eminence,
+either in virtue of skill at their work, of their general ingenuity, of
+their character, or their wit. Many of them were intelligent and
+energetic, and reached the point they were aiming at&mdash;pre-eminence, that
+is to say, and moral influence over their companions. They often hated
+one another, and they excited general envy. They looked upon other
+convicts with a dignified air, that was full of condescension; and they
+never quarrelled without a cause. Favourably looked upon by the
+administration, they in some measure directed the work, and none of them
+would have lowered himself so far as to quarrel with a man about his
+songs. All these men were very polite to me during the whole time of my
+imprisonment, but not at all communicative.</p>
+
+<p>At last we reached the bank; a little lower down was the old hulk, which
+we were to break up, stuck fast in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> the ice. On the other side of the
+water was the blue steppe and the sad horizon. I expected to see every
+one go to work at once. Nothing of the kind. Some of the convicts sat
+down negligently on wooden beams that were lying near the shore, and
+nearly all took from their pockets pouches containing native
+tobacco&mdash;which was sold in leaf at the market at the rate of three
+kopecks a pound&mdash;and short wooden pipes. They lighted them while the
+soldiers formed a circle around them, and began to watch us with a tired look.</p>
+
+<p>“Who the devil had the idea of sinking this barque?” asked one of the
+convicts in a loud voice, without speaking to any one in particular.</p>
+
+<p>“Were they very anxious, then, to have it broken up?”</p>
+
+<p>“The people were not afraid to give us work,” said another.</p>
+
+<p>“Where are all those peasants going to work?” said the first, after a short silence.</p>
+
+<p>He had not even heard his companion’s answer. He pointed with his finger
+to the distance, where a troop of peasants were marching in file across
+the virgin snow.</p>
+
+<p>All the convicts turned negligently towards this side, and began from
+mere idleness to laugh at the peasants as they approached them. One of
+them, the last of the line, walked very comically with his arms apart,
+and his head on one side. He wore a tall pointed cap. His shadow threw
+itself in clear lines on the white snow.</p>
+
+<p>“Look how our brother Petrovitch is dressed,” said one of my companions,
+imitating the pronunciation of the peasants of the locality. One amusing
+thing&mdash;the convicts looked down on peasants, although they were for the
+most part peasants by origin.</p>
+
+<p>“The last one, too, above all, looks as if he were planting radishes.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is an important personage, he has lots of money,” said a third.</p>
+
+<p>They all began to laugh without, however, seeming genuinely amused.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p><p>During this time a woman selling cakes came up. She was a brisk, lively
+person, and it was with her that the five kopecks given by the townsman were spent.</p>
+
+<p>The young fellow who sold white bread in the convict prison took two
+dozen of her cakes, and had a long discussion with the woman in order to
+get a reduction in price. She would not, however, agree to his terms.</p>
+
+<p>At last the non-commissioned officer appointed to superintend the work
+came up with a cane in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you sitting down for? Begin at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“Give us our tasks, Ivan Matveitch,” said one of the “foremen” among us,
+as he slowly got up.</p>
+
+<p>“What more do you want? Take out the barque, that is your task.”</p>
+
+<p>Then ultimately the convicts got up and went to the river, but very
+slowly. Different “directors” appeared, “directors,” at least, in words.
+The barque was not to be broken up anyhow. The latitudinal and
+longitudinal beams were to be preserved, and this was not an easy thing to manage.</p>
+
+<p>“Draw this beam out, that is the first thing to do,” cried a convict who
+was neither a director nor a foreman, but a simple workman. This man,
+very quiet and a little stupid, had not previously spoken. He now bent
+down, took hold of a heavy beam with both hands, and waited for some one
+to help him. No one, however, seemed inclined to do so.</p>
+
+<p>“Not you, indeed, you will never manage it; not even your grandfather,
+the bear, could do it,” muttered some one between his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my friend, are we to begin? As for me, I can do nothing alone,”
+said, with a morose air, the man who had put himself forward, and who
+now, quitting the beam, held himself upright.</p>
+
+<p>“Unless you are going to do all the work by yourself, what are you in
+such a hurry about?”</p>
+
+<p>“I was only speaking,” said the poor fellow, excusing himself for his forwardness.</p>
+
+<p>“Must you have blankets to keep yourselves warm,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> or are you to be
+heated for the winter?” cried a non-commissioned officer to the twenty
+men who seemed to loathe to begin work. “Go on at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is never any use being in a hurry, Ivan Matveitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you are doing nothing at all, Savelieff. What are you casting your
+eyes about for? Are they for sale, by chance? Come, go on.”</p>
+
+<p>“What can I do alone?”</p>
+
+<p>“Set us tasks, Ivan Matveitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“I told you before that I had no task to give you. Attack the barque,
+and when you have finished we will go back to the house. Come, begin.”</p>
+
+<p>The prisoners began work, but with no good-will, and very indolently.
+The irritation of the chief at seeing these vigorous men remain so idle
+was intelligible enough. While the first rivet was being removed it suddenly snapped.</p>
+
+<p>“It broke to pieces,” said the convict in self-justification. It was
+impossible, then, they suggested, to work in such a manner. What was to
+be done? A long discussion took place between the prisoners, and little
+by little they came to insults; nor did this seem likely to be the end
+of it. The under officer cried out again as he agitated his stick, but
+the second rivet snapped like the first. It was then agreed that
+hatchets were of no use, and that other tools must be procured.
+Accordingly, two prisoners were sent under escort to the fortress to get
+the proper instruments. Waiting their return, the other convicts sat
+down on the bank as calmly as possible, pulled out their pipes and began
+again to smoke. Finally, the under officer spat with contempt.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” he exclaimed, “the work you are doing will not kill you. Oh,
+what people, what people!” he grumbled, with an ill-natured air. He then
+made a gesture, and went away to the fortress, brandishing his cane.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour the “conductor” arrived. He listened quietly to what the
+convicts had to say, declared that the task he gave them was to get off
+four rivets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> unbroken, and to demolish a good part of the barque. As
+soon as this was done the prisoners could go back to the house. The task
+was a considerable one, but, good heavens! how the convicts now went to
+work! Where now was their idleness, their want of skill? The hatchets
+soon began to dance, and soon the rivets were sprung. Those who had no
+hatchets made use of thick sticks to push beneath the rivets, and thus
+in due time and in artistic fashion, they got them out. The convicts
+seemed suddenly to have become intelligent in their conversation. No
+more insults were heard. Every one knew perfectly what to say, to do, to
+advise. Just half-an-hour before the beating of the drum, the appointed
+task was executed, and the prisoners returned to the convict prison
+fatigued, but pleased to have gained half-an-hour from the working time
+fixed by the regulations.</p>
+
+<p>As regards myself, I have only one thing to say. Wherever I stood to
+help the workers I was never in my place; they always drove me away, and
+generally insulted me. Any one of the ragged lot, any miserable workman
+who would not have dared to say a syllable to the other convicts, all
+more intelligent and skilful than he, assumed the right of swearing at
+me if I went near him, under pretext that I interfered with him in his
+work. At last one of the best of them said to me frankly, but coarsely:</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want here? Be off with you! Why do you come when no one calls you?”</p>
+
+<p>“That is it,” added another.</p>
+
+<p>“You would do better to take a pitcher,” said a third, “and carry water
+to the house that is being built, or go to the tobacco factory. You are
+no good here.”</p>
+
+<p>I was obliged to keep apart. To remain idle while others were working
+seemed a shame; but when I went to the other end of the barque I was
+insulted anew.</p>
+
+<p>“What men we have to work!” was the cry. “What can be done with fellows
+of this kind?”</p>
+
+<p>All this was said spitefully. They were pleased to have the opportunity
+of laughing at a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>It will now be understood that my first thought on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> entering the convict
+prison was to ask myself how I should ever get on with such people. I
+foresaw that such incidents would often be repeated; but I resolved not
+to change my conduct in any way, whatever might be the result. I had
+decided to live simply and intelligently, without manifesting the least
+desire to approach my companions; but also without repelling them, if
+they themselves desired to approach me; in no way to fear their threats
+or their hatred; and to pretend as much as possible not to be affected
+by them. Such was my plan. I saw from the first that they would despise
+me, if I adopted any other course.</p>
+
+<p>When I returned in the evening to the convict prison, having finished my
+afternoon’s work, fatigued and harassed, a deep sadness took possession
+of me. “How many thousands of days have I to pass like this one?” Always
+the same thought. I walked about alone and meditated as night fell,
+when, suddenly, near the palisade behind the barracks, I saw my friend,
+Bull, who ran towards me.</p>
+
+<p>Bull was the dog of the prison; for the prison has its dog as companies
+of infantry, batteries of artillery, and squadrons of cavalry have
+theirs. He had been there for a long time, belonged to no one, looked
+upon every one as his master, and lived on the remains from the kitchen.
+He was a good-sized black dog, spotted with white, not very old, with
+intelligent eyes, and a bushy tail. No one caressed him or paid the
+least attention to him. As soon as I arrived I made friends with him by
+giving him a piece of bread. When I patted him on the back he remained
+motionless, looked at me with a pleased expression, and gently wagged his tail.</p>
+
+<p>That evening, not having seen me the whole day&mdash;me, the first person who
+in so many years had thought of caressing him&mdash;he ran towards me,
+leaping and barking. It had such an effect on me that I could not help
+embracing him. I placed his head against my body. He placed his paws on
+my shoulders and looked me in the face.</p>
+
+<p>“Here is a friend sent to me by destiny,” I said to myself, and during
+the first weeks, so full of pain, every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> time that I came back from work
+I hastened, before doing anything else, to go to the back of the
+barracks with Bull, who leaped with joy before me. I took his head in my
+hands and kissed it. At the same time a troubled, bitter feeling pressed
+my heart. I well remember thinking&mdash;and taking pleasure in the
+thought&mdash;that this was my one, my only friend in the world&mdash;my faithful
+dog, Bull.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span> <span class="smaller">NEW ACQUAINTANCES&mdash;PETROFF</span></h3>
+
+<p>Time went on, and little by little I accustomed myself to my new life.
+The scenes I had daily before me no longer afflicted me so much. In a
+word, the convict prison, its inhabitants, and its manners, left me
+indifferent. To get reconciled to this life was impossible, but I had to
+accept it as an inevitable fact. I had driven entirely away from me all
+the anxiety by which I had at first been troubled. I no longer wandered
+through the convict prison like a lost soul, and no longer allowed
+myself to be subjugated by my anxiety. The wild curiosity of the
+convicts had had its edge taken off, and I was no longer looked upon
+with that affectation or insolence previously displayed. They had become
+indifferent to me, and I was very glad of it. I began to feel at home in
+the barracks. I knew where to go and sleep at night; gradually I became
+accustomed to things the very idea of which would formerly have been
+repugnant to me. I went every week regularly to have my head shaved. We
+were called every Saturday one after another to the guard-house. The
+regimental barbers lathered our skulls with cold water and soap, and
+scraped us afterwards with their saw-like razors.</p>
+
+<p>Merely the thought of this torture gives me a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> shudder. I soon found a
+remedy for it&mdash;Akim Akimitch pointed it out to me&mdash;a prisoner in the
+military section who for one kopeck shaved those who paid for it with
+his own razor. This was his trade. Many of the prisoners were his
+customers merely to avoid the military barbers, yet these were not men
+of weak nerves. Our barber was called the “major,” why, I cannot say. As
+far as I know he possessed no points of resemblance with any major. As I
+write these lines I see clearly before me the “major” and his thin face.
+He was a tall fellow, silent, rather stupid, absorbed entirely by his
+business; he was never to be seen without a strop in his hand, on which
+day and night he sharpened a razor, which was always in admirable
+condition. He had certainly made this work the supreme object of his
+life; he was really happy when his razor was quite sharp and his
+services were in request; his soap was always warm, and he had a very
+light hand&mdash;a hand of velvet. He was proud of his skill, and used to
+take with a careless air the kopeck he received; one might have thought
+that he worked from love of his art, and not in order to gain money.</p>
+
+<p>A&mdash;&mdash;f was soundly corrected by our real Major one day, because he had
+the misfortune to say the “major” when he was speaking of the barber who
+shaved him. The real Major was in a violent rage.</p>
+
+<p>“Blackguard,” he cried, “do you know what a major is?” and according to
+his habit he shook A&mdash;&mdash;f violently. “The idea of calling a scoundrel of
+a convict a ‘major’ in my presence.”</p>
+
+<p>From the first day of my imprisonment I began to dream of my liberation.
+My favourite occupation was to count thousands and thousands of times in
+a thousand different manners the number of days that I should have to
+pass in prison. I thought of that only, and every one deprived of his
+liberty for a fixed time does the same; of that I am certain. I cannot
+say that all the convicts had the same degree of hopefulness, but their
+sanguine character often astonished me. The hopefulness of a prisoner
+differs essentially from that of a free man. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> latter may desire an
+amelioration in his position, or a realisation of some enterprise which
+he has undertaken, but meanwhile he lives, he acts; he is swept away in
+the whirlwind of real life. Nothing of the kind takes place in the case
+of the convict for life. He lives also in a way, but not being condemned
+to a fixed number of years, he takes a vaguer view of his situation than
+the one who is imprisoned for a definite term. The man condemned for a
+comparatively short period feels that he is not at home; he looks upon
+himself, so to say, as on a visit; he regards the twenty years of his
+punishment as two years at most; he is sure that at fifty, when he has
+finished his sentence, he will be as young and as lively as at
+thirty-five. “We have time before us,” he thinks, and he strives
+obstinately to dispel discouraging thoughts. Even a man sentenced for
+life thinks that some day an order may arrive from St.
+Petersburg&mdash;“Transport such a one to the mines at Nertchinsk and fix a
+term for his detention.” It would be famous, first because it takes six
+months to get to Nertchinsk, and the life on the road is a hundred times
+preferable to the convict prison. He would finish his time at
+Nertchinsk, and then&mdash;more than one gray-haired old man speculates in this way.</p>
+
+<p>At Tobolsk I have seen men fastened to the wall by a chain about two
+yards long; by their side they have their bed. They are thus chained for
+some terrible crime committed after their transportation to Siberia;
+they are kept chained up for five, ten years. They are nearly all
+brigands, and I only saw one of them who looked like a man of good
+breeding; he had been in some branch of the Civil Service, and spoke in
+a soft, lisping way; his smile was sweet but sickly; he showed us his
+chain, and pointed out to us the most convenient way of lying down. He
+must have been a nice person! All these poor wretches are perfectly
+well-behaved; they all seem satisfied, and yet their desire to finish
+their period of chains devours them. Why? it will be asked. Because then
+they will leave their low, damp, stifling cells for the court-yard of
+the convict prison, that is all. These last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> places of confinement they
+will never leave; they know that those who have once been chained up
+will never be liberated, and they will die in irons. They know all this,
+and yet they are very anxious to be no longer chained up. Without this
+hope could they remain five or six years fastened to a wall, and not die or go mad?</p>
+
+<p>I soon understood that work alone could save me, by fortifying my health
+and my body, whereas incessant restlessness of mind, nervous irritation,
+and the close air of the barracks would ruin them completely. I should
+go out vigorous and full of elasticity. I did not deceive myself, work
+and movement were very useful to me.</p>
+
+<p>I saw one of my comrades, to my terror, melt away like a piece of wax;
+and yet, when he was with me in the convict prison, he was young,
+handsome, and vigorous; when he left his health was ruined, and his legs
+could no longer support him. His chest, too, was oppressed by asthma.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” I said to myself, as I gazed upon him; “I wish to live, and I will live.”</p>
+
+<p>My love for work exposed me in the first place to the contempt and
+bitter laughter of my comrades; but I paid no attention to them, and
+went away with a light heart wherever I was sent. Sometimes, for
+instance, to break and pound alabaster. This work, the first that was
+given to me, is easy. The engineers did their utmost to lighten the
+task-work of all the gentlemen; this was not indulgence, but simple
+justice. Would it not have been strange to require the same work from a
+labourer as from a man whose strength was less by half, and who had
+never worked with his hands? But we were not “spoilt” in this way for
+ever, and we were only spared in secret, for we were severely watched.
+As real severe work was by no means rare, it often happened that the
+task given to us was beyond the strength of the gentlemen, who thus
+suffered twice as much as their comrades.</p>
+
+<p>Generally three or four men were sent to pound the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> alabaster, and
+nearly always old men or feeble ones were chosen. We were of the latter
+class. A man skilled in this particular kind of work was sent with us.
+For several years it was always the same man, Almazoff by name. He was
+severe, already in years, sunburnt, and very thin, by no means
+communicative, moreover, and difficult to get on with. He despised us
+profoundly; but he was of such a reserved disposition that he never
+broke it sufficient to call us names. The shed in which we calcined the
+alabaster was built on a sloping and deserted bank of the river. In
+winter, on a foggy day, the view was sad, both on the river and on the
+opposite shore, even to a great distance. There was something
+heartrending in this dull, naked landscape, but it was still sadder when
+a brilliant sun shone above the boundless white plain. How one would
+have liked to fly away beyond this steppe, which began on the opposite
+shore and stretched out for fifteen hundred versts to the south like an
+immense table-cloth.</p>
+
+<p>Almazoff went to work silently, with a disagreeable air. We were ashamed
+not to be able to help him more effectually, but he managed to do his
+work without our assistance, and seemed to wish to make us understand
+that we were acting unjustly towards him, and that we ought to repent
+our uselessness. Our work consisted in heating the oven in order to
+calcine the alabaster that we had got together in a heap.</p>
+
+<p>The day following, when the alabaster was entirely calcined, we turned
+it out. Each one filled a box of alabaster, which he afterwards crushed.
+This work was not disagreeable. The fragile alabaster soon became a
+white, brilliant dust. We brandished our heavy hammers, and dealt such
+formidable blows, that we admired our own strength. When we were tired
+we felt lighter, our cheeks were red, the blood circulated more rapidly
+in our veins. Almazoff would then look at us in a condescending manner,
+as he would have looked at little children. He smoked his pipe with an
+indulgent air, unable, however, to prevent himself from grumbling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> When
+he opened his mouth he was never otherwise, and he was the same with
+every one. At bottom I believe he was a kind man.</p>
+
+<p>They gave me another kind of labour, which consisted in working the
+turning wheel. This wheel was high and heavy, and great efforts were
+necessary to make it go round, above all when the workmen from the
+workshop of the engineers used to make the balustrade of a staircase or
+the foot of a large table, which required almost the whole trunk. No one
+man could have done the work alone. To two convicts, B&mdash;&mdash; (formerly
+gentleman) and myself, this work was given nearly always for several
+years, whenever there was anything to turn. B&mdash;&mdash; was weak, even still
+young, and somewhat sympathetic. He had been sent to prison a year
+before me, with two companions who were also of noble birth. One of
+them, an old man, used to pray day and night. The prisoners respected
+him greatly for it. He died in prison. The other one was quite a young
+man, fresh-coloured, strong, and courageous. He had carried his
+companion B&mdash;&mdash; for several hundred versts, seeing that at the end of
+the first half-stage he had fallen down from fatigue. Their friendship
+for one another was something to see.</p>
+
+<p>B&mdash;&mdash; was a perfectly well-bred man, of noble and generous disposition,
+but spoiled and irritated by illness. We used to turn the wheel well
+together, and the work interested us. As for me, I found the exercise most salutary.</p>
+
+<p>I was very&mdash;too&mdash;fond of shovelling away the snow, which we generally
+did after the hurricanes, so frequent in the winter. When the hurricane
+had been raging for an entire day, more than one house would be buried
+up to the windows, even if it was not covered over entirely. The
+hurricane ceased, the sun reappeared, and we were ordered to disengage
+the houses, barricaded as they were by heaps of snow.</p>
+
+<p>We were sent in large bands, sometimes the whole of the convicts
+together. Each of us received a shovel and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> had an appointed task to do,
+which it sometimes seemed impossible to get through. But we all went to
+work with a good-will. The light dust-like snow had not yet congealed,
+and was frozen only on the surface. We removed it in enormous
+shovelfuls, which were dispersed around us. In the air the snow-dust was
+as brilliant as diamonds. The shovel sank easily into the white
+glittering mass. The convicts did this work almost always with gaiety,
+the cold winter air and the exercise animated them. Every one felt
+himself in better spirits, laughter and jokes were heard, snowballs were
+exchanged, which after a time excited the indignation of the
+serious-minded convicts, who liked neither laughter nor gaiety.
+Accordingly these scenes finished almost always in showers of insults.</p>
+
+<p>Little by little the circle of my acquaintances increased, although I
+never thought of making new ones. I was always restless, morose, and
+mistrustful. Acquaintances, however, were made involuntarily. The first
+who came to visit me was the convict Petroff. I say visit, and I retain
+the word, for he lived in the special division which was at the farthest
+end of the barracks from mine. It seemed as if no relations could exist
+between him and me, for we had nothing in common.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, during the first period of my stay, Petroff thought it his
+duty to come towards me nearly every day, or at least to stop me when,
+after work, I went for a stroll at the back of the barracks as far as
+possible from observation. His persistence was disagreeable to me; but
+he managed so well that his visits became at last a pleasing diversion,
+although he was by no means of a communicative disposition. He was
+short, strongly built, agile, and skilful. He had rather an agreeable
+voice, and high cheek-bones, a bold look, and white, regular teeth. He
+had always a quid of tobacco in his mouth between the lower lip and the
+gums. Many of the convicts had the habit of chewing. He seemed to me
+younger than he really was, for he did not appear to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> more than
+thirty, and he was really forty. He spoke to me without any ceremony,
+and behaved to me on a footing of equality with civility and attention.
+If, for instance, he saw that I wished to be alone, he would talk to me
+for about two minutes and then go away. He thanked me, moreover, each
+time for my kindness in conversing with him, which he never did to any
+one else. I must add that his relations underwent no change not only
+during the first period of my story, but for several years, and that
+they never became more intimate, although he was really my friend. I
+never could say exactly what he looked for in my society, nor why he
+came every day to see me. He robbed me sometimes, but almost
+involuntarily. He never came to me to borrow money; so that what
+attracted him was not personal interest.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to me, I know not why, that this man did not live in the same
+prison with me, but in another house in the town, far away. It appeared
+as though he had come to the convict prison by chance in order to pick
+up news, to inquire for me, in short, to see how I was getting on. He
+was always in a hurry, as though he had left some one for a moment who
+was waiting for him, or as if he had given up for a time some matter of
+business. And yet he never hurried himself. His look was strongly fixed,
+with a slight air of levity and irony. He had a habit of looking into
+the distance above the objects near him, as though he were endeavouring
+to distinguish something behind the person to whom he was talking. He
+always seemed absent-minded. I sometimes asked myself where he went when
+he left me, where could Petroff be so anxiously expected? He would
+simply go with a light step to one of the barracks or to the kitchen,
+and sit down to hear the conversation. He listened attentively, and
+joined in with animation; after which he would suddenly become silent.
+But whether he spoke or kept silent, one could always see on his
+countenance that he had business somewhere else, and that some one was
+waiting for him in the town, not very far away. The most astonishing
+thing was that he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> never had any business&mdash;apart, of course, from the
+hard labour assigned to him. He knew no trade, and had scarcely ever any
+money. But that did not seem to grieve him. Why did he speak to me? His
+conversation was as strange as he himself was singular. When he noticed
+that I was walking alone at the back of the barracks he made a stand,
+and turned towards me. He walked very fast, and when I turned he was
+suddenly on his heel. He approached me walking, but so quickly that he
+seemed to be going at a run.</p>
+
+<p>“Good-morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good-morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am not disturbing you?”</p>
+
+<p>“No.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish to ask you something about Napoleon. I wanted to ask you if he
+is not a relation of the one who came to us in the year 1812.”</p>
+
+<p>Petroff was a soldier’s son, and knew how to read and write.</p>
+
+<p>“Of course he is.”</p>
+
+<p>“People say he is President. What President&mdash;and of what?”</p>
+
+<p>His questions were always rapid and abrupt, as though he wished to know
+as soon as possible what he asked. I explained to him of what Napoleon
+was President, and I added that perhaps he would become Emperor.</p>
+
+<p>“How will that be?”</p>
+
+<p>I explained it to him as well as I could; Petroff listened with
+attention. He understood perfectly all I told him, and added, as he
+leant his ear towards me:</p>
+
+<p>“Hem! Ah, I wished to ask you, Alexander Petrovitch, if there are really
+monkeys who have hands instead of feet, and are as tall as a man?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are they like?”</p>
+
+<p>I described them to him, and told him what I knew on the subject.</p>
+
+<p>“And where do they live?”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p><p>“In warm climates. There are some to be found in the island of
+Sumatra.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that in America? I have heard that people there walk with their
+heads downwards.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no; you are thinking of the Antipodes.” I explained to him as well
+as I could what America was, and what the Antipodes. He listened to me
+as attentively as if the question of the Antipodes had alone caused him
+to approach me.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah! I read last year the story of the Countess de la Valli&egrave;re.
+Arevieff had bought this book from the Adjutant. Is it true or is it an
+invention? The work is by Dumas.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is an invention, no doubt.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, indeed. Good-bye. I am much obliged to you.”</p>
+
+<p>And Petroff disappeared. The above may be taken as a specimen of our
+ordinary conversation.</p>
+
+<p>I made inquiries about him. M&mdash;&mdash; thought he had better speak to me on
+the subject, when he learnt what an acquaintance I had made. He told me
+that many convicts had excited his horror on their arrival; but not one
+of them, not even Gazin, had produced upon him such a frightful
+impression as this Petroff.</p>
+
+<p>“He is the most resolute, most to be feared of all the convicts,” said
+M&mdash;&mdash;. “He is capable of anything, nothing stops him if he has a
+caprice. He will assassinate you, if the fancy takes him, without
+hesitation and without the least remorse. I often think he is not in his
+right senses.”</p>
+
+<p>This declaration interested me extremely; but M&mdash;&mdash; was never able to
+tell me why he had such an opinion of Petroff. Strangely enough, for
+many years together I saw this man and talked with him nearly every day.
+He was always my sincere friend, though I could not at the time tell
+why, and during the whole time he lived very quietly, and did nothing
+extreme. I am moreover convinced that M&mdash;&mdash; was right, and that he was
+perhaps a most intrepid man and the most difficult to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> restrain in the
+whole prison. And why so, I can scarcely explain.</p>
+
+<p>This Petroff was that very convict who, when he was called up to receive
+his punishment, had wished to kill the Major. I have told you the latter
+was saved by a miracle&mdash;that he had gone away one minute before the
+punishment was inflicted.</p>
+
+<p>Once when he was still a soldier&mdash;before his arrival at the convict
+prison&mdash;his Colonel had struck him on parade. Probably he had often been
+beaten before, but that day he was not in a humour to bear an insult, in
+open day, before the battalion drawn up in line. He killed his Colonel.
+I don’t know all the details of the story, for he never told it to me
+himself. It must be understood that these explosions only took place
+when the nature within him spoke too loudly, and these occasions were
+rare; as a rule he was serious and even quiet. His strong, ardent
+passions were not burnt out, but smouldering, like burning coals beneath ashes.</p>
+
+<p>I never noticed that he was vain, or given to bragging like so many
+other convicts. He hardly ever quarrelled, but he was on friendly
+relations with scarcely any one, except, perhaps, Sirotkin, and then
+only when he had need of him. I saw him, however, one day seriously
+irritated. Some one had offended him by refusing him something he
+wanted. He was disputing on the point with a tall convict, as vigorous
+as an athlete, named Vassili Antonoff, known for his nagging, spiteful
+disposition. The man, however, who belonged to the class of civil
+convicts, was far from being a coward. They shouted at one another for
+some time, and I thought the quarrel would finish like so many others of
+the same kind, by simple interchange of abuse. The affair took an
+unexpected turn. Petroff only suddenly turned pale, his lips trembled,
+and turned blue, his respiration became difficult. He got up, and
+slowly, very slowly, and with imperceptible steps&mdash;he liked to walk
+about with his feet naked&mdash;approached Antonoff; at once the noise of
+shouting gave place to a death-like silence&mdash;a fly passing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> through the
+air might have been heard&mdash;every one anxiously awaited the event.
+Antonoff pointed to his adversary. His face was no longer human. I was
+unable to endure the scene, and I left the prison. I was certain that
+before I got to the staircase I should hear the shrieks of a man who was
+being murdered; but nothing of the kind took place. Before Petroff had
+succeeded in getting up to Antonoff, the latter threw him the object
+which had caused the quarrel&mdash;a miserable rag, a worn-out piece of lining.</p>
+
+<p>Of course afterwards, Antonoff did not fail to call Petroff names,
+merely as a matter of conscience, and from a feeling of what was right,
+in order to show that he had not been too much afraid; but Petroff paid
+no attention to his insults, he did not even answer him. Everything had
+ended to his advantage, and the insults scarcely affected him; he was
+glad to have got his piece of rag.</p>
+
+<p>A quarter of an hour later he was strolling about the barracks quite
+unoccupied, looking for some group whose conversation might possibly
+gratify his curiosity. Everything seemed to interest him, and yet he
+remained apparently indifferent to all he heard. He might have been
+compared to a workman, a vigorous workman, whom the work fears; but who,
+for the moment, has nothing to do, and condescends meanwhile to put out
+his strength in playing with his children. I did not understand why he
+remained in prison, why he did not escape. He would not have hesitated
+to get away if he had really desired to do so. Reason has no power on
+people like Petroff unless they are spurred on by will. When they desire
+something there are no obstacles in their way. I am certain that he
+would have been clever enough to escape, that he would have deceived
+every one, that he would have remained for a time without eating, hid in
+a forest, or in the bulrushes of the river; but the idea had evidently
+not occurred to him. I never noticed in him much judgment or good sense.
+People like him are born with one idea, which, without being aware of
+it, pursues them all their life. They wander<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> until they meet with some
+object which apparently excites their desire, and then they do not mind
+risking their head. I was sometimes astonished that a man who had
+assassinated his Colonel for having been struck, would lie down without
+opposition beneath the rods, for he was always flogged when he was
+detected introducing spirits into the prison. Like all those who had no
+settled occupation, he smuggled in spirits; then, if caught, he would
+allow himself to be whipped as though he consented to the punishment,
+and confessed himself in the wrong. Otherwise they would have killed him
+rather than make him lie down. More than once I was astonished to see
+that he was robbing me in spite of his affection for me; but he did so
+from time to time. Thus he stole my Bible, which I had asked him to
+carry to its place. He had only a few steps to go; but on his way he met
+with a purchaser, to whom he sold the book, at once spending the money
+he had received on vodka. Probably he felt that day a violent desire for
+drink, and when he desired something it was necessary that he should
+have it. A man like Petroff will assassinate any one for twenty-five
+kopecks, simply to get himself a pint of vodka. On any other occasion he
+will disdain hundreds and thousands of roubles. He told me the same
+evening of the theft he had committed, but without showing the least
+sign of repentance or confusion, in a perfectly indifferent tone, as
+though he were speaking of an ordinary incident. I endeavoured to
+reprove him as he deserved, for I regretted the loss of my Bible. He
+listened to me without hesitation very calmly. He agreed that the Bible
+was a very useful book, and sincerely regretted that I had it no longer;
+but he was not for one moment sorry, though he had stolen it. He looked
+at me with such assurance that I gave up scolding him. He bore my
+reproaches because he thought I could not do otherwise than I was doing.
+He knew that he ought to be punished for such an action, and
+consequently thought I ought to abuse him for my own satisfaction, and
+to console myself for my loss. But in his inner heart he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> considered
+that it was all nonsense, to which a serious man ought to be ashamed to
+descend. I believe even that he looked upon me as a child, an infant,
+who does not yet understand the simplest things in the world. If I spoke
+to him of anything, except books and matters of knowledge, he would
+answer me, but only from politeness, and in laconic phrases. I wondered
+what made him question me so much on the subject of books. I looked at
+him carefully during our conversation to assure myself that he was not
+laughing at me; but no, he listened seriously, and with an attention
+which was genuine, though not always maintained. This latter
+circumstance irritated me sometimes. The questions he put to me were
+clear and precise, and he always seemed prepared for the answer. He had
+made up his mind once for all that it was no use speaking to me as to
+other matters, and that, apart from books, I understood nothing. I am
+certain that he was attached to me, and much that fact astonished me;
+but he looked upon me as a child, or as an imperfect man. He felt for me
+that sort of compassion which every stronger being feels for a weaker;
+he took me for&mdash;I do not know what he took me for. Although this
+compassion did not prevent him from robbing me, I am sure that in doing
+so he pitied me.</p>
+
+<p>“What a strange person!” he must have said to himself, as he lay hands
+on my property; “he does not even know how to take care of what he
+possesses.” That, I think, is why he liked me. One day he said to me as
+if involuntarily:</p>
+
+<p>“You are too good-natured, you are so simple, so simple that one cannot
+help pitying you. Do not be offended at what I was saying to you,
+Alexander Petrovitch,” he added a minute afterwards, “it is not ill-meant.”</p>
+
+<p>People like Petroff will sometimes, in times of trouble and excitement,
+manifest themselves in a forcible manner; then they find the kind of
+activity which suits them; they are not men of words; they could not be
+instigators and chiefs of insurrections, but they are the men who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>
+execute and act; they act simply without any fuss, and run just to throw
+themselves against an obstacle with bared breast, neither thinking nor
+fearing. Every one follows them to the foot of the wall, where they
+generally leave their life. I do not think Petroff can have ended well,
+he was marked for a violent end; and if he is not yet dead, that only
+means that the opportunity has not yet presented itself. Who knows,
+however? He will, perhaps, die of extreme old age, quite quietly, after
+having wandered through life, here and there, without an object; but I
+believe M&mdash;&mdash; was right, and that Petroff was the most determined man in
+the whole convict prison.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER IX.</span> <span class="smaller">MEN OF DETERMINATION&mdash;LUKA</span></h3>
+
+<p>It is difficult to speak of these men of determination. In the convict
+prison, as elsewhere, they are rare. They can be known by the fear they
+inspire; people beware of them. An irresistible feeling urged me first
+of all to turn away from them, but I afterwards changed my point of
+view, even in regard to the most frightful murderers. There are men who
+have never killed any one, and who, nevertheless, are more atrocious
+than those who have assassinated six persons. It is impossible to form
+an idea of certain crimes, of so strange a nature are they.</p>
+
+<p>A type of murderers that one often meets with is the following: A man
+lives calmly and peacefully. His fate is a hard one, but he puts up with
+it. He is a peasant attached to the soil, a domestic serf, a shopkeeper,
+or a soldier. Suddenly he finds something give way within him; what he
+has hitherto suffered he can bear no longer, and he plunges his knife
+into the breast of his oppressor or his enemy. He then goes beyond all
+measure. He has killed his oppressor, his enemy. That can be
+understood&mdash;there was cause for that crime; but afterwards he does not
+assassinate his enemies alone, but the first person he happens to meet
+he kills for the pleasure of killing&mdash;for an abusive word, for a look,
+to make an equal number, or only because some one is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> standing in his
+way. He behaves like a drunken man&mdash;a man in a delirium. When once he
+has passed the fatal line, he is himself astonished to find that nothing
+sacred exists for him. He breaks through all laws, defies all powers,
+and gives himself boundless license. He enjoys the agitation of his own
+heart and the terror that he inspires. He knows all the same that a
+frightful punishment awaits him. His sensations are probably like those
+of a man who, looking down from a high tower on to the abyss yawning at
+his feet, would be happy to throw himself head first into it in order to
+bring everything to an end. That is what happens with even the most
+quiet, the most commonplace individuals. There are some even who give
+themselves airs in this extremity. The more they were quiet,
+self-effacing before, the more they now swagger and seek to inspire
+fear. The desperate men enjoy the horror they cause; they take pleasure
+in the disgust they excite; they perform acts of madness from despair,
+and care nothing how it must all end, or seem impatient that it should
+end as soon as possible. The most curious thing is that their
+excitement, their exaltation, will last until the pillory. After that
+the thread is cut, the moment is fatal, and the man becomes suddenly
+calm, or, rather, he becomes extinct, a thing without feeling. In the
+pillory all his strength fails him, and he begs pardon of the people.
+Once at the convict prison, he is quite different. No one would ever
+imagine that this white-livered chicken had killed five or six men.</p>
+
+<p>There are some men whom the convict prison does not easily subdue. They
+preserve a certain swagger, a spirit of bravado.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, I am not what you take me for; I have sent six fellows out of
+the world,” you will hear them boast; but sooner or later they have all
+to submit. From time to time, the murderer will amuse himself by
+recalling his audacity, his lawlessness when he was in a state of
+despair. He likes at these moments to have some silly fellow before whom
+he can brag, and to whom he will relate his heroic deeds, by pretending
+not to have the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> least wish to astonish him. “That is the sort of man I
+am,” he says.</p>
+
+<p>And with what a refinement of prudent conceit he watches him while he is
+delivering his narrative! In his accent, in every word, this can be
+perceived. Where did he acquire this particular kind of artfulness?</p>
+
+<p>During the long evening of one of the first days of my confinement, I
+was listening to one of these conversations. Thanks to my inexperience I
+took the narrator for the malefactor, a man with an iron character, a
+man to whom Petroff was nothing. The narrator, Luka Kouzmitch, had
+“knocked over” a Major, for no other reason but that it pleased him to
+do so. This Luka Kouzmitch was the smallest and thinnest man in all the
+barracks. He was from the South. He had been a serf, one of those not
+attached to the soil, but who serve their masters as domestics. There
+was something cutting and haughty in his demeanour. He was a little
+bird, but had a beak and nails. The convicts sum up a man instinctively.
+They thought nothing of this one, he was too susceptible and too full of conceit.</p>
+
+<p>That evening he was stitching a shirt, seated on his camp-bedstead.
+Close to him was a narrow-minded, stupid, but good-natured and obliging
+fellow, a sort of Colossus, Kobylin by name. Luka often quarrelled with
+him in a neighbourly way, and treated him with a haughtiness which,
+thanks to his good-nature, Kobylin did not notice in the least. He was
+knitting a stocking, and listening to Luka with an indifferent air. Luka
+spoke in a loud voice and very distinctly. He wished every one to hear
+him, though he was apparently speaking only to Kobylin.</p>
+
+<p>“I was sent away,” said Luka, sticking his needle in the shirt, “as a brigand.”</p>
+
+<p>“How long ago?” asked Kobylin.</p>
+
+<p>“When the peas are ripe it will be just a year. Well, we got to K&mdash;&mdash;v,
+and I was put into the convict prison. Around me there were a dozen men
+from Little Russia, well-built, solid, robust fellows, like oxen, and
+how quiet!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> The food was bad, the Major of the prison did what he liked.
+One day passed, then another, and I soon saw that all these fellows were cowards.</p>
+
+<p>“‘You are afraid of such an idiot?’ I said to them.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Go and talk to him yourself,’ and they burst out laughing like brutes
+that they were. I held my tongue.</p>
+
+<p>“There was one fellow so droll, so droll,” added the narrator, now
+leaving Kobylin to address all who chose to listen.</p>
+
+<p>“This droll fellow was telling them how he had been tried, what he had
+said, and how he had wept with hot tears.</p>
+
+<p>“‘There was a dog of a clerk there,’ he said, ‘who did nothing but write
+and take down every word I said. I told him I wished him at the devil,
+and he actually wrote that down. He troubled me so, that I quite lost my
+head.’”</p>
+
+<p>“Give me some thread, Vasili; the house thread is bad, rotten.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is some from the tailor’s shop,” replied Vasili, handing it over to him.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, but about this Major?” said Kobylin, who had been quite forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Luka was only waiting for that. He did not go on at once with his story,
+as though Kobylin were not worth such a mark of attention. He threaded
+his needle quietly, bent his legs lazily beneath him, and at last
+continued as follows:</p>
+
+<p>“I excited the fellows to such an extent that they all called out
+against the Major. That same morning I had borrowed the ‘rascal’ [prison
+slang for knife] from my neighbour, and had hid it, so as to be ready
+for anything. When the Major arrived, he was as furious as a madman.
+‘Come now, you Little Russians,’ I whispered to them, ‘this is not the
+time for fear.’ But, dear me, all their courage had slipped down to the
+soles of their feet, they trembled! The Major came in, he was quite drunk.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p><p>“‘What is this, how do you dare? I am your Tzar, your God,’ he cried.</p>
+
+<p>“When he said that he was the Tzar and God, I went up to him with my
+knife in my sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>“‘No,’ I said to him, ‘your high nobility,’ and I got nearer and nearer
+to him, ‘that cannot be. Your “high nobility” cannot be our Tzar and our God.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Ah, you are the man, it is you,’ cried the Major; ‘you are the leader of them.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘No,’ I answered, and I got still nearer to him; ‘no, your “high
+nobility,” as every one knows, and as you yourself know, the
+all-powerful God present everywhere is alone in heaven. And we have only
+one Tzar placed above every one else by God himself. He is our monarch,
+your “high nobility.” And, your “high nobility,” you are as yet only
+Major, and you are our chief only by the grace of the Tzar, and by your merits.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘How? how? how?’ stammered the Major. He could not speak, so astounded was he.</p>
+
+<p>“This is how I answered, and I threw myself upon him and thrust my knife
+into his belly up to the hilt. It had been done very quickly; the Major
+tottered, turned, and fell.</p>
+
+<p>“I had thrown my life away.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Now, you fellows,’ I cried, ‘it is for you to pick him up.’”</p>
+
+<p>I will here make a digression from my narrative. The expression, “I am
+the Tzar! I am God!” and other similar ones were once, unfortunately,
+too often employed in the good old times by many commanders. I must
+admit that their number has seriously diminished, and perhaps even the
+last has already disappeared. Let me observe that those who spoke in
+this way were, above all, men promoted from the ranks. The grade of
+officer had turned their brain upside down. After having laboured long
+years beneath the knapsack, they suddenly found themselves officers,
+commanders, and nobles above all. Thanks to their not being accustomed
+to it, and to the first excitement caused by their promotion, they
+contracted an exaggerated idea of their power and importance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> relatively
+to their subordinates. Before their superiors such men are revoltingly
+servile. The most fawning of them will even say to their superiors that
+they have been common soldiers, and that they do not forget their place.
+But towards their inferiors they are despots without mercy. Nothing
+irritates the convicts so much as such abuses. These overweening
+opinions of their own greatness; this exaggerated idea of their
+immunity, causes hatred in the hearts of the most submissive men, and
+drives the most patient to excesses. Fortunately, all this dates from a
+time that is almost forgotten, and even then the superior authorities
+used to deal very severely with abuses of power. I know more than one
+example of it. What exasperates the convicts above all is disdain or
+repugnance manifested by any one in dealing with them. Those who think
+that it is only necessary to feed and clothe the prisoner, and to act
+towards him in all things according to the law, are much mistaken.
+However much debased he may be, a man exacts instinctively respect for
+his character as a man. Every prisoner knows perfectly that he is a
+convict and a reprobate, and knows the distance which separates him from
+his superiors; but neither the branding irons nor chains will make him
+forget that he is a man. He must, therefore, be treated with humanity.
+Humane treatment may raise up one in whom the divine image has long been
+obscured. It is with the “unfortunate,” above all, that humane conduct
+is necessary. It is their salvation, their only joy. I have met with
+some chiefs of a kind and noble character, and I have seen what a
+beneficent influence they exercised over the poor, humiliated men
+entrusted to their care. A few affable words have a wonderful moral
+effect upon the prisoners. They render them as happy as children, and
+make them sincerely grateful towards their chiefs. One other
+remark&mdash;they do not like their chiefs to be familiar and too much
+hail-fellow-well-met with them. They wish to respect them, and
+familiarity would prevent this. The prisoners will feel proud, for
+instance, if their chief has a number of decorations; if he has good
+manners; if he is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>well-considered by a powerful superior; if he is
+severe, but at the same time just, and possesses a consciousness of
+dignity. The convicts prefer such a man to all others. He knows what he
+is worth, and does not insult others. Everything then is for the best.</p>
+
+<p>“You got well skinned for that, I suppose,” asked Kobylin.</p>
+
+<p>“As for being skinned, indeed, there is no denying it. Ali, give me the
+scissors. But, what next; are we not going to play at cards to-night?”</p>
+
+<p>“The cards we drank up long ago,” remarked Vassili. “If we had not sold
+them to get drink they would be here now.”</p>
+
+<p>“If!&mdash;&mdash; Ifs fetch a hundred roubles a piece on the Moscow market.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Luka, what did you get for sticking him?” asked Kobylin.</p>
+
+<p>“It brought me five hundred strokes, my friend. It did indeed. They did
+all but kill me,” said Luka, once more addressing the assembly and
+without heeding his neighbour Kobylin. “When they gave me those five
+hundred strokes, I was treated with great ceremony. I had never before
+been flogged. What a mass of people came to see me! The whole town had
+assembled to see the brigand, the murderer, receive his punishment. How
+stupid the populace is!&mdash;I cannot tell you to what extent. Timoshka the
+executioner undressed me and laid me down and cried out, ‘Look out, I am
+going to grill you!’ I waited for the first stroke. I wanted to cry out,
+but could not. It was no use opening my mouth, my voice had gone. When
+he gave me the second stroke&mdash;you need not believe me unless you
+please&mdash;I did not hear when they counted two. I returned to myself and
+heard them count seventeen. Four times they took me down from the board
+to let me breathe for half-an-hour, and to souse me with cold water. I
+stared at them with my eyes starting from my head, and said to myself,
+‘I shall die here.’”</p>
+
+<p>“But you did not die,” remarked Kobylin innocently.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p><p>Luka looked at him with disdain, and every one burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“What an idiot! Is he wrong in the upper storey?” said Luka, as if he
+regretted that he had condescended to speak to such an idiot.</p>
+
+<p>“He is a little mad,” said Vassili on his side.</p>
+
+<p>Although Luka had killed six persons, no one was ever afraid of him in
+the prison. He wished, however, to be looked upon as a terrible person.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER X.</span> <span class="smaller">ISAIAH FOMITCH&mdash;THE BATH&mdash;BAKLOUCHIN.</span></h3>
+
+<p>But the Christmas holidays were approaching, and the convicts looked
+forward to them with solemnity. From their mere appearance it was easy
+to see that something extraordinary was about to arrive. Four days
+before the holidays they were to be taken to the bath; every one was
+pleased, and was making preparations. We were to go there after dinner.
+On this occasion there was no work in the afternoon, and of all the
+convicts the one who was most pleased, and showed the greatest activity,
+was a certain Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein, a Jew, of whom I spoke in my
+fifth chapter. He liked to remain stewing in the bath until he became
+unconscious. Whenever I think of the prisoner’s bath, which is a thing
+not to be forgotten, the first thought that presents itself to my memory
+is of that very glorious and eternally to be remembered, Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein, my prison companion. Good Lord! what a strange man he was! I
+have already said a few words about his face. He was fifty years of age,
+his face wrinkled, with frightful scars on his cheeks and on his
+forehead, and the thin, weak body of a fowl. His face expressed
+perpetual confidence in himself, and, I may almost say, perfect
+happiness. I do not think he was at all sorry to be condemned to hard
+labour. He was a jeweller by trade, and as there was no other in the
+town,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> he had always plenty of work to do, and was more or less well
+paid. He wanted nothing, and lived, so to say, sumptuously, without
+spending all that he gained, for he saved money and lent it out to the
+other convicts at interest. He possessed a tea-urn, a mattress, a
+tea-cup, and a blanket. The Jews of the town did not refuse him their
+patronage. Every Saturday he went under escort to the synagogue (which
+was authorised by the law); and he lived like a fighting cock.
+Nevertheless, he looked forward to the expiration of his term of
+imprisonment in order to get married. He was the most comic mixture of
+simplicity, stupidity, cunning, timidity, and bashfulness; but the
+strangest thing was that the convicts never laughed, or seriously mocked
+him&mdash;they only teased him for amusement. Isaiah Fomitch was a subject of
+distraction and amusement for every one.</p>
+
+<p>“We have only one Isaiah Fomitch, we will take care of him,” the
+convicts seemed to say; and as if he understood this, he was proud of
+his own importance. From the account given to me it appeared he had
+entered the convict prison in the most laughable manner (it took place
+before my arrival). Suddenly one evening a report was spread in the
+convict prison that a Jew had been brought there, who at that moment was
+being shaved in the guard-house, and that he was immediately afterwards
+to be taken to the barracks. As there was not a single Jew in the
+prison, the convicts looked forward to his entry with impatience, and
+surrounded him as soon as he passed the great gates. The officer on
+service took him to the civil prison, and pointed out the place where
+his plank bedstead was to be.</p>
+
+<p>Isaiah Fomitch held in his hand a bag containing the things given to
+him, and some other things of his own. He put down his bag, took his
+place at the plank bedstead, and sat down there with his legs crossed,
+without daring to raise his eyes. People were laughing all round him.
+The convicts ridiculed him by reason of his Jewish origin. Suddenly a
+young convict left the others, and came up to him, carrying in his hand
+an old pair of summer trousers, dirty, torn, and mended with old rags.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+He sat down by the side of Isaiah Fomitch, and struck him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, my dear fellow,” said he, “I have been waiting for the last six
+years; look up and tell me how much you will give for this article,”
+holding up his rags before him.</p>
+
+<p>Isaiah Fomitch was so dumbfounded that he did not dare to look at the
+mocking crowd, with mutilated and frightful countenances, now grouped
+around him, and did not speak a single word, so frightened was he. When
+he saw who was speaking to him he shuddered, and began to examine the
+rags carefully. Every one waited to hear his first words.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, cannot you give me a silver rouble for it? It is certainly worth
+that,” said the would-be vendor smiling, and looking towards Isaiah
+Fomitch with a wink.</p>
+
+<p>“A silver rouble! no; but I will give you seven kopecks.”</p>
+
+<p>These were the first words pronounced by Isaiah Fomitch in the convict
+prison. A loud laugh was heard from all sides.</p>
+
+<p>“Seven kopecks! Well, give them to me; you are lucky, you are indeed.
+Look! Take care of the pledge, you answer for it with your head.”</p>
+
+<p>“With three kopecks for interest; that will make ten kopecks you will
+owe me,” said the Jew, at the same time slipping his hand into his
+pocket to get out the sum agreed upon.</p>
+
+<p>“Three kopecks interest&mdash;for a year?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, not for a year, for a month.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a terrible screw, what is your name?”</p>
+
+<p>“Isaiah Fomitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Isaiah Fomitch, you ought to get on. Good-bye.”</p>
+
+<p>The Jew examined once more the rags on which he had lent seven kopecks,
+folded them up, and put them carefully away in his bag. The convicts
+continued to laugh at him.</p>
+
+<p>In reality every one laughed at him, but, although every prisoner owed
+him money, no one insulted him;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> and when he saw that every one was well
+disposed towards him, he gave himself haughty airs, but so comic that
+they were at once forgiven.</p>
+
+<p>Luka, who had known many Jews when he was at liberty, often teased him,
+less from malice than for amusement, as one plays with a dog or a
+parrot. Isaiah Fomitch knew this and did not take offence.</p>
+
+<p>“You will see, Jew, how I will flog you.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you give me one blow I will return you ten,” replied Isaiah Fomitch valiantly.</p>
+
+<p>“Scurvy Jew.”</p>
+
+<p>“As scurvy as you like; I have in any case plenty of money.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bravo! Isaiah Fomitch. We must take care of you. You are the only Jew
+we have; but they will send you to Siberia all the same.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am already in Siberia.”</p>
+
+<p>“They will send you farther on.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is not the Lord God there?”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, he is everywhere.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then! With the Lord God, and money, one has all that is
+necessary.”</p>
+
+<p>“What a fellow he is!” cries every one around him.</p>
+
+<p>The Jew sees that he is being laughed at, but does not lose courage. He
+gives himself airs. The flattery addressed to him causes him much
+pleasure, and with a high, squealing falsetto, which is heard throughout
+the barracks, he begins to sing, “la, la, la, la,” to an idiotic and
+ridiculous tune; the only song he was heard to sing during his stay at
+the convict prison. When he made my acquaintance, he assured me solemnly
+that it was the song, and the very air, that was sung by 600,000 Jews,
+small and great, when they crossed the Red Sea, and that every Israelite
+was ordered to sing it after a victory gained over an enemy.</p>
+
+<p>The eve of each Saturday the convicts came from the other barracks to
+ours, expressly to see Isaiah Fomitch celebrating his Sabbath. He was so
+vain, so innocently conceited, that this general curiosity flattered him
+immensely. He covered the table in his little corner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> with a pedantic
+air of importance, opened a book, lighted two candles, muttered some
+mysterious words, and clothed himself in a kind of chasuble, striped,
+and with sleeves, which he preserved carefully at the bottom of his
+trunk. He fastened to his hands leather bracelets, and finally attached
+to his forehead, by means of a ribbon, a little box, which made it seem
+as if a horn were starting from his head. He then began to pray. He read
+in a drawling voice, cried out, spat, and threw himself about with wild
+and comic gestures. All this was prescribed by the ceremonies of his
+religion. There was nothing laughable or strange in it, except the airs
+which Isaiah Fomitch gave himself before us in performing his
+ceremonies. Then he suddenly covered his head with both hands, and began
+to read with many sobs. His tears increased, and in his grief he almost
+lay down upon the book his head with the ark upon it, howling as he did
+so; but suddenly in the midst of his despondent sobs he burst into a
+laugh, and recited with a nasal twang a hymn of triumph, as if he were
+overcome by an excess of happiness.</p>
+
+<p>“Impossible to understand it,” the convicts would sometimes say to one
+another. One day I asked Isaiah Fomitch what these sobs signified, and
+why he passed so suddenly from despair to triumphant happiness. Isaiah
+Fomitch was very pleased when I asked him these questions. He explained
+to me directly that the sobs and tears were provoked by the loss of
+Jerusalem, and that the law ordered the pious Jew to groan and strike
+his breast; but at the moment of his most acute grief he was suddenly to
+remember that a prophecy had foretold the return of the Jews to
+Jerusalem, and he was then to manifest overflowing joy, to sing, to
+laugh, and to recite his prayers with an expression of happiness in his
+voice and on his countenance. This sudden passage from one phase of
+feeling to another delighted Isaiah Fomitch, and he explained to me this
+ingenious prescription of his faith with the greatest satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, in the midst of his prayers, the Major entered, followed by
+the officer of the guard and an escort of soldiers. All the prisoners
+got immediately<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> into line before their camp-bedsteads. Isaiah Fomitch
+alone continued to shriek and gesticulate. He knew that his worship was
+authorised, and that no one could interrupt him, so that in howling in
+the presence of the Major he ran no risk. It pleased him to throw
+himself about beneath the eyes of the chief.</p>
+
+<p>The Major approached within a few steps. Isaiah Fomitch turned his back
+to the table, and just in front of the officer began to sing his hymn of
+triumph, gesticulating and drawling out certain syllables. When he came
+to the part where he had to assume an expression of extreme happiness,
+he did so by blinking with his eyes, at the same time laughing and
+nodding his head in the direction of the Major. The latter was at first
+much astonished; then he burst into a laugh, called out, “Idiot!” and
+went away, while the Jew still continued to shriek. An hour later, when
+he had finished, I asked him what he would have done if the Major had
+been wicked enough and foolish enough to lose his temper.</p>
+
+<p>“What Major?”</p>
+
+<p>“What Major! Did you not see him? He was only two steps from you, and
+was looking at you all the time.” But Isaiah Fomitch assured me as
+seriously as possible that he had not seen the Major, for while he was
+saying his prayers he was in such a state of ecstasy that he neither saw
+nor heard anything that was taking place around him.</p>
+
+<p>I can see Isaiah Fomitch wandering about on Saturday throughout the
+prison, endeavouring to do nothing, as the law prescribes to every Jew.
+What improbable anecdotes he told me! Every time he returned from the
+synagogue he always brought me some news of St. Petersburg, and the most
+absurd rumours imaginable from his fellow Jews of the town, who
+themselves had received them at first hand. But I have already spoken
+too much of Isaiah Fomitch.</p>
+
+<p>In the whole town there were only two public baths. The first, kept by a
+Jew, was divided into compartments, for which one paid fifty kopecks. It
+was frequented by the aristocracy of the town.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p><p>The other bath, old, dirty, and close, was destined for the people. It
+was there that the convicts were taken. The air was cold and clear. The
+prisoners were delighted to get out of the fortress and have a walk
+through the town. During the walk their laughter and jokes never ceased.
+A platoon of soldiers, with muskets loaded, accompanied us. It was quite
+a sight for the town’s-people. When we had reached our destination, the
+bath was so small that it did not permit us all to enter at once. We
+were divided into two bands, one of which waited in the cold room while
+the other one bathed in the hot one. Even then, so narrow was the room
+that it was difficult for us to understand how half of the convicts
+could stand together in it.</p>
+
+<p>Petroff kept close to me. He remained by my side without my having
+begged him to do so, and offered to rub me down. Baklouchin, a convict
+of the special section, offered me at the same time his services. I
+recollect this prisoner, who was called the “Sapper,” as the gayest and
+most agreeable of all my companions. We had become intimate friends.
+Petroff helped me to undress, because I was generally a long time
+getting my things off, not being yet accustomed to the operation; and it
+was almost as cold in the dressing-room as outside the doors.</p>
+
+<p>It is very difficult for a convict who is still a novice to get his
+things off, for he must know how to undo the leather straps which fasten
+on the chains. These leather straps are buckled over the shirt, just
+beneath the ring which encloses the leg. One pair of straps costs sixty
+kopecks, and each convict is obliged to get himself a pair, for it would
+be impossible to walk without their assistance. The ring does not
+enclose the leg too tightly. One can pass the finger between the iron
+and the flesh; but the ring rubs against the calf, so that in a single
+day the convict who walks without leather straps, gets his skin broken.</p>
+
+<p>To take off the straps presents no difficulty. It is not the same with
+the clothes. To get the trousers off is in itself a prodigious
+operation, and the same may be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> said of the shirt whenever it has to be
+changed. The first who gave us lessons in this art was Koreneff, a
+former chief of brigands, condemned to be chained up for five years. The
+convicts are very skilful at the work, and do it readily.</p>
+
+<p>I gave a few kopecks to Petroff to buy soap and a bunch of the twigs
+with which one rubs oneself in the bath. Bits of soap were given to the
+convicts, but they were not larger than pieces of two kopecks. The soap
+was sold in the dressing-room, as well as mead, cakes of white flour,
+and boiling water; for each convict received but one pailful, according
+to the agreement made between the proprietor of the bath and the
+administration of the prison. The convicts who wished to make themselves
+thoroughly clean, could for two kopecks buy another pailful, which the
+proprietor handed to them through a window pierced in the wall for that
+purpose. As soon as I was undressed, Petroff took me by the arm and
+observed to me that I should find it difficult to walk with my chains.</p>
+
+<p>“Drag them up on to your calves,” he said to me, holding me by the arms
+at the same time, as if I were an old man. I was ashamed at his care,
+and assured him that I could walk well enough by myself, but he did not
+believe me. He paid me the same attention that one gives to an awkward
+child. Petroff was not a servant in any sense of the word. If I had
+offended him, he would have known how to deal with me. I had promised
+him nothing for his assistance, nor had he asked me for anything. What
+inspired him with so much solicitude for me?</p>
+
+<p>Represent to yourself a room of twelve feet long by as many broad, in
+which a hundred men are all crowded together, or at least eighty, for we
+were in all two hundred divided into two sections. The steam blinded us;
+the sweat, the dirt, the want of space, were such that we did not know
+where to put a foot down. I was frightened and wished to go out. Petroff
+hastened to reassure me. With great trouble we succeeded in raising
+ourselves on to the benches, by passing over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> heads of the convicts,
+whom we begged to bend down, in order to let us pass; but all the
+benches were already occupied. Petroff informed me that I must buy a
+place, and at once entered into negotiations with the convict who was
+near the window. For a kopeck this man consented to cede me his place.
+After receiving the money, which Petroff held tight in his hand, and
+which he had prudently provided himself with beforehand, the man crept
+just beneath me into a dark and dirty corner. There was there, at least,
+half an inch of filth; even the places above the benches were occupied,
+the convicts swarmed everywhere. As for the floor there was not a place
+as big as the palm of the hand which was not occupied by the convicts.
+They sent the water in spouts out of their pails. Those who were
+standing up washed themselves pail in hand, and the dirty water ran all
+down their body to fall on the shaved heads of those who were sitting
+down. On the upper bench, and the steps which led to it, were heaped
+together other convicts who washed themselves more thoroughly, but these
+were in small number. The populace does not care to wash with soap and
+water, it prefers stewing in a horrible manner, and then inundating
+itself with cold water. That is how the common people take their bath.
+On the floor could be seen fifty bundles of rods rising and falling at
+the same time, the holders were whipping themselves into a state of
+intoxication. The steam became thicker and thicker every minute, so that
+what one now felt was not a warm but a burning sensation, as from
+boiling pitch. The convicts shouted and howled to the accompaniment of
+the hundred chains shaking on the floor. Those who wished to pass from
+one place to another got their chains mixed up with those of their
+neighbours, and knocked against the heads of the men who were lower down
+than they. Then there were volleys of oaths as those who fell dragged
+down the ones whose chains had become entangled in theirs. They were all
+in a state of intoxication of wild exultation. Cries and shrieks were
+heard on all sides. There was much crowding and crushing at the window
+of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>dressing-room through which the hot water was delivered, and
+much of it got spilt over the heads of those who were seated on the
+floor before it arrived at its destination. We seemed to be fully at
+liberty; and yet from time to time, behind the window of the
+dressing-room, or through the open door, could be seen the moustached
+face of a soldier, with his musket at his feet, watching that no serious
+disorder took place.</p>
+
+<p>The shaved heads of the convicts, and their red bodies, which the steam
+made the colour of blood, seemed more monstrous than ever. On their
+backs, made scarlet by the steam, stood out in striking relief the scars
+left by the whips and the rods, made long before, but so thoroughly that
+the flesh seemed to have been quite recently torn. Strange scars. A
+shudder passed through me at the mere sight of them. Again the volume of
+steam increased, and the bath-room was now covered with a thick, burning
+cloud, covering agitation and cries. From this cloud stood out torn
+backs, shaved heads; and, to complete the picture, Isaiah Fomitch
+howling with joy on the highest of the benches. He was saturating
+himself with steam. Any other man would have fainted away, but no
+temperature is too high for him; he engages the services of a rubber for
+a kopeck, but after a few moments the latter is unable to continue,
+throws away his bunch of twigs, and runs to inundate himself with cold
+water. Isaiah Fomitch does not lose courage, he runs to hire a second
+rubber, then a third; on these occasions he thinks nothing of expense,
+and changes his rubber four or five times. “He stews well, the gallant
+Isaiah Fomitch,” cry the convicts from below. The Jew feels that he goes
+beyond all the others, he has beaten them; he triumphs with his hoarse
+falsetto voice, and sings out his favourite air which rises above the
+general hubbub. It seemed to me that if ever we met in hell we should be
+reminded of the place where we then were. I could not resist a wish to
+communicate this idea to Petroff. He looked all round him, but made no answer.</p>
+
+<p>I wished to buy a place for him on the bench by my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> side; but he sat
+down at my feet and declared that he felt quite at his ease. Baklouchin
+meanwhile bought us some hot water which he would bring to us as soon as
+we wanted it. Petroff offered to clean me from head to foot, and he
+begged me to go through the preliminary stewing process. I could not
+make up my mind to it. At last he rubbed me all over with soap. I wished
+to make him understand that I could wash myself, but it was no use
+contradicting him and I gave myself up to him.</p>
+
+<p>When he had done with me he took me back to the dressing-room, holding
+me up, and telling me at each step to take care, as if I had been made
+of porcelain. He helped me to put on my clothes, and when he had
+finished his kindly work he rushed back to the bath to have a thorough stewing.</p>
+
+<p>When we got back to the barracks I offered him a glass of tea, which he
+did not refuse. He drank it and thanked me. I wished to go to the
+expense of a glass of vodka in his honour, and I succeeded in getting it
+on the spot. Petroff was exceedingly pleased. He swallowed his vodka
+with a murmur of satisfaction, declared that I had restored him to life,
+and then suddenly rushed to the kitchen, as if the people who were
+talking there could not decide anything important without him.</p>
+
+<p>Now another man came up for a talk. This was Baklouchin, of whom I have
+already spoken, and whom I had also invited to take tea.</p>
+
+<p>I never knew a man of a more agreeable disposition than Baklouchin. It
+must be admitted that he never forgave a wrong, and that he often got
+into quarrels. He could not, above all, endure people interfering with
+his affairs. He knew, in a word, how to take care of himself; but his
+quarrels never lasted long, and I believe that all the convicts liked
+him. Wherever he went he was well received. Even in the town he was
+looked upon as the most amusing man in the world. He was a man of lofty
+stature, thirty years old, with a frank, determined countenance, and
+rather good-looking, with his tuft of hair on his chin. He possessed the
+art of changing his face in such a comic manner by imitating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> the first
+person he happened to see, that the people around him were constantly in
+a roar. He was a professed joker, but he never allowed himself to be
+slighted by those who did not enjoy his fun. Accordingly, no one spoke
+disparagingly of him. He was full of life and fire. He made my
+acquaintance at the very beginning of my imprisonment, and related to me
+his military career, when he was a sapper in the Engineers, where he had
+been placed as a favour by people of influence. He put a number of
+questions to me about St. Petersburg; he even read books when he came to
+take tea with me. He amused the whole company by relating how roughly
+Lieutenant K&mdash;&mdash; had that morning handled the Major. He told me,
+moreover, with a satisfied air, as he took his seat by my side, that we
+should probably have a theatrical representation in the prison. The
+convicts proposed to get up a play during the Christmas holidays. The
+necessary actors were found, and, little by little, the scenery was
+prepared. Some persons in the town had promised to lend women’s clothes
+for the performance. Some hopes were even entertained of obtaining,
+through the medium of an officer’s servant, a uniform with epaulettes,
+provided only the Major did not take it into his head to forbid the
+performance, as he had done the previous year. He was at that time in
+ill-humour through having lost at cards, and he had been annoyed at
+something that had taken place in the prison. Accordingly, in a fit of
+ill-humour, he had forbidden the performance. It was possible, however,
+that this year he would not prevent it. Baklouchin was in a state of
+exultation. It could be seen that he would be one of the principal
+supporters of the meditated theatre. I made up my mind to be present at
+the performance. The ingenuous joy which Baklouchin manifested in
+speaking of the undertaking was quite touching. From whispering, we
+gradually got to talk of the matter quite openly. He told me, among
+other things, that he had not served at St. Petersburg alone. He had
+been sent to R&mdash;&mdash; with the rank of non-commissioned officer in a
+garrison battalion.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p><p>“From there they sent me on here,” added Baklouchin.</p>
+
+<p>“And why?” I asked him.</p>
+
+<p>“Why? You would never guess, Alexander Petrovitch. Because I was in love.”</p>
+
+<p>“Come now. A man is not exiled for that,” I said, with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“I should have added,” continued Baklouchin, “that it made me kill a
+German with a pistol-shot. Was it worth while to send me to hard labour
+for killing a German? Only think.”</p>
+
+<p>“How did it happen? Tell me the story. It must be a strange one.”</p>
+
+<p>“An amusing story indeed, Alexander Petrovitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“So much the better. Tell me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You wish me to do so? Well, then, listen.”</p>
+
+<p>And he told me the story of his murder. It was not “amusing,” but it was
+indeed strange.</p>
+
+<p>“This is how it happened,” began Baklouchin; “I had been sent to Riga, a
+fine, handsome city, which has only one fault, there are too many
+Germans there. I was still a young man, and I had a good character with
+my officers. I wore my cap cocked on the side of my head, and passed my
+time in the most agreeable manner. I made love to the German girls. One
+of them, named Luisa, pleased me very much. She and her aunt were
+getters-up of fine linen. The old woman was a true caricature; but she
+had money. First of all I merely passed under the young girl’s windows;
+but I soon made her acquaintance. Luisa spoke Russian well enough,
+though with a slight accent. She was charming. I never saw any one like
+her. I was most pressing in my advances; but she only replied that she
+would preserve her innocence, that as a wife she might prove worthy of
+me. She was an affectionate, smiling girl, and wonderfully neat. In
+fact, I assure you, I never saw any one like her. She herself had
+suggested that I should marry her, and how was I not to marry her?
+Suddenly Luisa did not come to her appointment. This happened once, then
+twice, then a third time. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> sent her a letter, but she did not reply.
+‘What is to be done?’ I said to myself. If she had been deceiving me she
+could easily have taken me in. She could have answered my letter and
+come all the same to the appointment; but she was incapable of
+falsehood. She had simply broken off with me. ‘This is a trick of the
+aunt,’ I said to myself. I was afraid to go to her house.</p>
+
+<p>“Even though she was aware of our engagement, we acted as if she were
+ignorant of it. I wrote a fine letter in which I said to Luisa, ‘If you
+don’t come, I will come to your aunt’s for you.’ She was afraid and
+came. Then she began to weep, and told me that a German named Schultz, a
+distant relation of theirs, a clockmaker by trade, and of a certain age,
+but rich, had shown a wish to marry her&mdash;in order to make her happy, as
+he said, and that he himself might not remain without a wife in his old
+age. He had loved her a long time, so she told me, and had been
+nourishing this idea for years, but he had kept it a secret, and had
+never ventured to speak out. ‘You see, Sasha,’ she said to me, ‘that it
+is a question of my happiness; for he is rich, and would you prevent my
+happiness?’ I looked her in the face, she wept, embraced me, clasped me in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, she is quite right,’ I said to myself, ‘what good is there in
+marrying a soldier&mdash;even a non-commissioned officer? Come, farewell,
+Luisa. God protect you. I have no right to prevent your happiness.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘And what sort of a man is he? Is he good-looking?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘No, he is old, and he has such a long nose.’</p>
+
+<p>“She here burst into a fit of laughter. I left her. ‘It was my destiny,’
+I said to myself. The next day I passed by Schultz’ shop (she had told
+me where he lived). I looked through the window and saw a German, who
+was arranging a watch, forty-five years of age, an aquiline nose,
+swollen eyes, a dress-coat with a very high collar. I spat with contempt
+as I looked at him. At that moment I was ready to break the shop
+windows, but ‘What is the use of it?’ I said to myself; ‘there is
+nothing more to be done: it is over, all over.’ I got back to the
+barracks as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> the night was falling, and stretched myself out on my bed,
+and&mdash;will you believe it, Alexander Petrovitch?&mdash;began to sob&mdash;yes, to
+sob. One day passed, then a second, then a third. I saw Luisa no more. I
+had learned, however, from an old woman (she was also a washerwoman, and
+the girl I loved used sometimes to visit her), that this German knew of
+our relations, and that for that reason he had made up his mind to marry
+her as soon as possible, otherwise he would have waited two years
+longer. He had made Luisa swear that she would see me no more. It
+appeared that on account of me he had refused to loosen his
+purse-strings, and kept Luisa and her aunt very close. Perhaps he would
+yet change his idea, for he was not very resolute. The old woman told me
+that he had invited them to take coffee with him the next day, a Sunday,
+and that another relation, a former shopkeeper, now very poor, and an
+assistant in some liquor store, would also come. When I found that the
+business was to be settled on Sunday, I was so furious that I could not
+recover my cold blood, and the following day I did nothing but reflect.
+I believe I could have devoured that German. On Sunday morning I had not
+come to any decision. As soon as the service was over I ran out, got
+into my great-coat, and went to the house of this German. I thought I
+should find them all there. Why I went to the German, and what I meant
+to say to him, I did not know myself.</p>
+
+<p>“I slipped a pistol into my pocket to be ready for everything; a little
+pistol which was not worth a curse, with an old-fashioned lock&mdash;a thing
+I had used when I was a boy, and which was really fit for nothing. I
+loaded it, however, because I thought they would try to kick me out, and
+that the German would insult me, in which case I would pull out my
+pistol to frighten them all. I arrived. There was no one on the
+staircase; they were all in the work-room. No servant. The one girl who
+waited upon them was absent. I crossed the shop and saw that the door
+was closed&mdash;an old door fastened from the inside. My heart beat; I
+stopped and listened. They were speaking German. I broke open<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> the door
+with a kick. I looked round. The table was laid; there was a large
+coffee-pot on it, with a spirit lamp underneath, and a plate of
+biscuits. On a tray there was a small decanter of brandy, herrings,
+sausages, and a bottle of some wine. Luisa and her aunt, both in their
+Sunday best, were seated on a sofa. Opposite them, the German was
+exhibiting himself on a chair, got up like a bridegroom, and in his coat
+with the high collar, and with his hair carefully combed. On the other
+side, there was another German, old, fat, and gray. He was taking no
+part in the conversation. When I entered, Luisa turned very pale. The
+aunt sprang up with a bound and sat down again. The German became angry.
+What a rage he was in! He got up, and walking towards me, said:</p>
+
+<p>“‘What do you want?’</p>
+
+<p>“I should have lost my self-possession if anger had not supported me.</p>
+
+<p>“‘What do I want? Is this the way to receive a guest? Why do you not
+offer him something to drink? I have come to pay you a visit.’</p>
+
+<p>“The German reflected a moment, and then said, ‘Sit down.’</p>
+
+<p>“I sat down.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Here is some vodka. Help yourself, I beg.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘And let it be good,’ I cried, getting more and more into a rage.</p>
+
+<p>“‘It is good.’</p>
+
+<p>“I was enraged to see him looking at me from top to toe. The most
+frightful part of it was, that Luisa was looking on. I took a drink and said to him:</p>
+
+<p>“‘Look here, German, what business have you to speak rudely to me? Let
+us be better acquainted. I have come to see you as friends.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘I cannot be your friend,’ he replied. ‘You are a private soldier.’</p>
+
+<p>“Then I lost all self-command.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh, you German! You sausage-seller! You know how much you are in my
+power. Look here; do you wish me to break your head with this pistol?’</p>
+
+<p>“I drew out my pistol, got up, and struck him on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> forehead. The
+women were more dead than alive; they were afraid to breathe. The eldest
+of the two men, quite white, was trembling like a leaf.</p>
+
+<p>“The German seemed much astonished. But he soon recovered himself.</p>
+
+<p>“‘I am not afraid of you,’ he said, ‘and I beg of you, as a well-bred
+man, to put an end to this pleasantry. I am not afraid of you!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘You are afraid! You dare not move while this pistol is presented at you.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘You dare not do such a thing!’ he cried.</p>
+
+<p>“‘And why should I not dare?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Because you would be severely punished.’</p>
+
+<p>“May the devil take that idiot of a German! If he had not urged me on,
+he would have been alive now.</p>
+
+<p>“‘So you think I dare not?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘No.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘I dare not, you think?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘You would not dare!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Wouldn’t I, sausage-maker?’ I fired the pistol, and down he sank on
+his chair. The others uttered shrieks. I put back my pistol in my
+pocket, and when I returned to the fortress, threw it among some weeds
+near the principal entrance.</p>
+
+<p>“Inside the barracks I laid on my bed, and said to myself, ‘I shall be
+taken away soon.’ One hour passed, then another, but I was not arrested.</p>
+
+<p>“Towards evening I felt so sad, I went out at all hazards to see Luisa;
+I passed before the house of the clockmaker’s. There were a number of
+people there, including the police. I ran on to the old woman’s and said:</p>
+
+<p>“‘Call Luisa!’</p>
+
+<p>“I had only a moment to wait. She came immediately, and threw herself on
+my neck in tears.</p>
+
+<p>“‘It is my fault,’ she said. ‘I should not have listened to my aunt.’</p>
+
+<p>“She then told me that her aunt, immediately after the scene, had gone
+back home. She was in such a fright that she fell and did not speak a
+word; she had uttered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> nothing. On the contrary, she ordered her niece
+to be as silent as herself.</p>
+
+<p>“‘No one has seen her since,’ said Luisa.</p>
+
+<p>“The clockmaker had previously sent his servant away, for he was afraid
+of her. She was jealous, and would have scratched his eyes out had she
+known that he wished to get married.</p>
+
+<p>“There were no workmen in the house, he had sent them all away; he had
+himself prepared the coffee and collation. As for the relation, who had
+scarcely spoken a word all his life, he took his hat, and, without
+opening his mouth, went away.</p>
+
+<p>“‘He is quite sure to be silent,’ added Luisa.</p>
+
+<p>“So, indeed, he was. For two weeks no one arrested me nor suspected me
+the least in the world.</p>
+
+<p>“You need not believe me unless you choose, Alexander Petrovitch.</p>
+
+<p>“These two weeks were the happiest in my life. I saw Luisa every day.
+And how much she had become attached to me!</p>
+
+<p>“She said to me through her tears: ‘If you are exiled, I will go with
+you. I will leave everything to follow you.’</p>
+
+<p>“I thought of making away with myself, so much had she moved me; but
+after two weeks I was arrested. The old man and the aunt had agreed to denounce me.”</p>
+
+<p>“But,” I interrupted, “Baklouchin, for that they would only have given
+you from ten to twelve years’ hard labour, and in the civil section; yet
+you are in the special section. How does that happen?”</p>
+
+<p>“That is another affair,” said Baklouchin. “When I was taken before the
+Council of War, the captain appointed to conduct the case began by
+insulting me, and calling me names before the Tribunal. I could not
+stand it, and shouted out to him: ‘Why do you insult me? Don’t you see,
+you scoundrel! that you are only looking at yourself in the glass?’</p>
+
+<p>“This brought a new charge against me. I was tried a second time, and
+for the two things was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>condemned to four thousand strokes, and to the
+special section. When I was taken out to receive my punishment in the
+<i>Green Street</i>, the captain was at the same time sent away. He had been
+degraded from his rank, and was despatched to the Caucasus as a private
+soldier. Good-bye, Alexander Petrovitch. Don’t fail to come to our performance.”</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER XI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS</span></h3>
+
+<p>The holidays were approaching. On the eve of the great day the convicts
+scarcely ever went to work. Those who had been assigned to the sewing
+workshops, and a few others, went to work as usual; but they went back
+almost immediately to the convict prison, separately, or in parties.
+After dinner no one worked. From the early morning the greater part of
+the convicts were occupied with their own affairs, and not with those of
+the administration. Some were making arrangements for bringing in
+spirits, while others were seeking permission to see their friends, or
+to collect small accounts due to them for the work they had already
+executed. Baklouchin, and the convicts who were to take part in the
+performance, were endeavouring to persuade some of their acquaintances,
+nearly all officers’ servants, to procure for them the necessary
+costumes. Some of them came and went with a business-like air, solely
+because others were really occupied. They had no money to receive, and
+yet seemed to expect a payment. Every one, in short, seemed to be
+looking for a change of some kind. Towards evening the old soldiers,
+who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> executed the convicts’ commissions, brought them all kinds of
+victuals&mdash;meat, sucking-pigs, and geese. Many prisoners, even the most
+simple and most economical, after saving up their kopecks throughout the
+year, thought they ought to spend some of them that day, so as to
+celebrate Christmas Eve in a worthy manner. The day afterwards was for
+the convicts a still greater festival, one to which they had a right, as
+it was recognised by law. The prisoners could not be sent to work that
+day. There were not three days like it in all the year.</p>
+
+<p>And, moreover, what recollections must have been agitating the souls of
+those reprobates at the approach of such a solemn day! The common people
+from their childhood kept the great festival in their memory. They must
+have remembered with anguish and torments these days which, work being
+laid aside, are passed in the bosom of the family. The respect of the
+convicts for that day had something imposing about it. The drunkards
+were not at all numerous; nearly every one was serious, and, so to say,
+preoccupied, though they had for the most part nothing to do. Even those
+who feasted most preserved a serious air. Laughter seemed to be
+forbidden. A sort of intolerant susceptibility reigned throughout the
+prison; and if any one interfered with the general repose, even
+involuntarily, he was soon put in his proper place, with cries and
+oaths. He was condemned as though he had been wanting in respect to the
+festival itself.</p>
+
+<p>This disposition of the convicts was remarkable, and even touching.
+Besides the innate veneration they have for this great day, they foresee
+that in observing the festival they are in communion with the rest of
+the world; that they are not altogether reprobates lost and cast off by
+society. The usual rejoicings took place in the convict prison as well
+as outside. They felt all that. I saw it, and understood it myself.</p>
+
+<p>Akim Akimitch had made great preparations for the festival. He had no
+family recollections, being an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> orphan, born in a strange house, and put
+into the army at the age of fifteen. He could never have experienced any
+great joys, having always lived regularly and uniformly in the fear of
+infringing the rules imposed upon him, nor was he very religious; for
+his acquired formality had stifled in him all human feeling, all
+passions and likings, good or bad. He accordingly prepared to keep
+Christmas without exciting himself about it. He was saddened by no
+painful, useless recollection. He did everything with the punctuality
+imposed upon him in the execution of his duties, and in order once for
+all to get through the ceremony in a becoming manner. Moreover, he did
+not care to reflect upon the importance of the day, had never troubled
+his brain about it, even while he was executing his prescribed duties
+with religious minuteness. If he had been ordered the day following to
+do contrary to what he had done the evening before he would have done it
+with equal submission. Once in life, once, and once only, he had wished
+to act by his own impulse&mdash;and he had been sent to hard labour for it.</p>
+
+<p>This lesson had not been lost upon him, although it was written that he
+was never to understand his fault. He had yet become impressed with this
+salutary moral principle: never to reason in any matter because his mind
+was not equal to the task of judging. Blindly devoted to ceremonies, he
+looked with respect at the sucking-pig which he had stuffed with
+millet-seed, and which he had roasted himself (for he had some culinary
+skill), just as if it had not been an ordinary sucking-pig which could
+have been bought and roasted at any time, but a particular kind of
+animal born specially for Christmas Day. Perhaps he had been accustomed
+from his tender infancy to see that day a sucking-pig on the table, and
+he may have concluded that a sucking-pig was indispensable for the
+proper celebration of the festival. I am certain that if by ill-luck he
+had not eaten this particular kind of meat on that day, he would have
+been troubled with remorse all his life for not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> having done his duty.
+Until Christmas morning he wore his old vest and his old trousers, which
+had long been threadbare. I then learned that he kept carefully in his
+box his new clothes which had been given to him four months before, and
+that he had not put them on once, in order that he might wear them for
+the first time on Christmas Day. He did so. The evening before he took
+his new clothes out of his trunk, unfolded, examined them, cleaned them,
+blew on them to remove the dust, and when he was convinced that they
+were perfect, probably tried them on. The dress became him perfectly;
+all the different garments suited one another. The waistcoat buttoned up
+to the neck, the collar, straight and stiff like cardboard, kept his
+chin in its proper place. There was a military cut about the dress; and
+Akim Akimitch, as he wore it, smiled with satisfaction, turning himself
+round and round, not without swagger, before a little mirror adorned
+with a gilt border.</p>
+
+<p>One of the waistcoat-buttons alone seemed out of place; Akim Akimitch
+remarked it, and at once set it right. He tried on the vest again and
+found it irreproachable. Then he folded up his things as before, and
+with a satisfied mind locked them up in his box until the next day. His
+skull was sufficiently shaved; but, after careful examination, Akim
+Akimitch came to the conclusion that it was not in good condition, his
+hair had imperceptibly sprung up. He accordingly went immediately to the
+“Major” to be properly shaved according to the rules. In reality no one
+would have dreamed of looking at him next day, but he was acting
+conscientiously in order to fulfil all his duties. This care lest the
+smallest button, the least thread of an epaulette, the slightest string
+of a tassel should go wrong, was engraved in his mind as an imperious
+duty, and in his heart as the image of the most perfect order that could
+possibly be attained. As one of the “old hands” in the barracks, he saw
+that hay was brought and strewed about on the floor; the same thing was
+done in the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> barracks. I do not know why, but hay was always
+strewed on the ground at Christmas time.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Akim Akimitch had finished his work he said his prayers,
+stretched himself on his bed, and went to sleep, with the sleep of a
+child, in order to wake up as early as possible the next day. The other
+convicts did the same. It must be added that all of them went to bed,
+but sooner than usual. They gave up their ordinary evening work that
+day. As for playing cards, no one would have dared even to speak of such
+a thing; every one was anxiously expecting the next morning.</p>
+
+<p>At last this morning arrived. At an early hour, even before it was
+light, the drum was sounded, and the under officer, whose duty it was to
+count the convicts, wished them a happy Christmas. The prisoners
+answered him in an affable and amiable tone by expressing a like wish.
+Akim Akimitch, and many others, who had their geese and their
+sucking-pigs, went to the kitchen, after saying their prayers, in a
+hurried manner to see where their victuals were and how they were being cooked.</p>
+
+<p>Through the little windows of our barracks, half hidden by the snow and
+the ice, could be seen, flaring in the darkness, the bright fire of the
+two kitchens where six stoves had been lighted. In the court-yard, where
+it was still dark, the convicts, each with a half pelisse round his
+shoulders, or perhaps fully dressed, were hurrying towards the kitchen.
+Some of them, meanwhile&mdash;a very small number&mdash;had already visited the
+drink-sellers. They were the impatient ones, but they behaved
+becomingly, possibly much better than on ordinary days; neither quarrels
+nor insults were heard, every one understood that it was a great day, a
+great festival. The convicts went even to visit the other barracks in
+order to wish the inmates a happy Christmas; that day a sort of
+friendship seemed to exist between them all. I will remark in passing
+that the convicts have scarcely ever any intimate friendships. It was
+very rare to see a man on confidential terms with any other man, as, in
+the outer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> world. We were generally harsh and abrupt in our mutual
+relations. With some rare exceptions this was the general tone adopted and maintained.</p>
+
+<p>I went out of the barracks like the others. It was beginning to get
+late. The stars were paling, a light, icy mist was rising from the
+earth, and spirals of smoke were ascending in curls from the chimneys.
+Several convicts whom I met wished me, with affability, a happy
+Christmas. I thanked them and returned their wishes. Some of them had
+never spoken to me before.</p>
+
+<p>Near the kitchen, a convict from the military barracks, with his
+sheepskin on his shoulder, came up to me. Recognising me, he called out
+from the middle of the court-yard, “Alexander Petrovitch.” He ran
+towards me. I waited for him. He was a young fellow, with a round face
+and soft eyes, and not at all communicative as a rule. He had not spoken
+to me since my arrival, and seemed never to have noticed me. I did not
+know on my side what his name was. When he came up, he remained planted
+before me, smiling with a vacuous smile, but with a happy expression of countenance.</p>
+
+<p>“What do you want?” I asked, not without astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>He remained standing before me, still smiling and staring, but without
+replying to my question.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, it is Christmas Day,” he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>He understood that he had nothing more to say, and now hastened into the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>I must add that, after this we scarcely ever met, and that we never
+spoke to one another again.</p>
+
+<p>Round the flaming stoves of the kitchen the convicts were rubbing and
+pushing against one another. Every one was watching his own property.
+The cooks were preparing the dinner, which was to take place a little
+earlier than usual. No one began to eat before the time, though a good
+many wished to do so; but it was necessary to be well-behaved before the
+others. We were waiting for the priest, and the fast preceding Christmas
+would not be at an end until his arrival.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p><p>It was not yet perfectly light, when the corporal was already heard
+shouting out from behind the principal gate of the prison:</p>
+
+<p>“The kitchen; the kitchen.”</p>
+
+<p>These calls were repeated without interruption for about two hours. The
+cooks were wanted in order to receive gifts brought from all parts of
+the town in enormous numbers; loaves of white bread, scones, rusks,
+pancakes, and pastry of various kinds. I do not think there was a
+shop-keeper in the whole town who did not send something to the
+“unfortunates.” Amongst these gifts there were some magnificent ones,
+including a good many cakes of the finest flour. There were also some
+very poor ones, such as rolls worth two kopecks a piece, and a couple of
+brown rolls, covered lightly over with sour cream. These were the
+offerings of the poor to the poor, on which a last kopeck had often been spent.</p>
+
+<p>All these gifts were accepted with equal gratitude, without reference to
+the value or the giver. The convicts, on receiving the offerings, took
+off their caps and thanked the donors with low bows, wishing them a
+happy Christmas, and then carried the things to the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>When a number of loaves and cakes had been collected, the elders of each
+barrack were called, and it was for them to divide the whole in equal
+portions among all the sections. The division excited neither protest
+nor annoyance. It was made honestly, equitably. Akim Akimitch, helped by
+another prisoner, divided between the convicts of our barracks the share
+assigned to us, and gave to each of us what came to him. Every one was
+satisfied. No objection was made by any one. There was not the least
+manifestation of envy, and it occurred to no one to deceive another.</p>
+
+<p>When Akim Akimitch had finished at the kitchen, he proceeded religiously
+to dress himself, and did so with a solemn air. He buttoned up his
+waistcoat button by button, in the most punctilious manner. Then, when
+he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> had got his new clothes on, he went to pray, which occupied him a
+considerable time. Numbers of convicts fulfilled their religious duties,
+but these were for the most part old men. The young men scarcely ever
+prayed. The most they did was to make the sign of the cross when they
+rose from table, and that happened only on festival days.</p>
+
+<p>Akim Akimitch came up to me as soon as he had finished his prayer, to
+express to me the usual good wishes. I invited him to have some tea, and
+he returned my politeness by offering me some of his sucking-pig. After
+some time Petroff came up to address to me the usual compliments. I
+think he had been already drinking, and although he seemed to have much
+to say, he scarcely spoke. He stood up before me for some seconds, and
+then went back to the kitchen. The priest was now expected in the
+military section of the barracks. This section was not constructed like
+the others. The camp-bedsteads were arranged all along the wall, and not
+in the middle of the room as in all the others, so that it was the only
+one in which the middle was not obstructed. It had been probably
+arranged in this manner so that in case of necessity it might be easier
+to assemble the convicts. A small table had been prepared in the middle
+of the room, and a holy image placed upon it, before which burned a little lamp.</p>
+
+<p>At last the priest arrived, with the cross and holy water. He prayed and
+chanted before the image, and then turned towards the convicts, who one
+after the other came and kissed the cross. The priest then walked
+through all the barracks, sprinkling them with holy water. When he got
+to the kitchen he praised the bread of the convict prison, which had
+quite a reputation in town. The convicts at once expressed a desire to
+send him two loaves of new bread, still hot, which an old soldier was
+ordered to take to his house forthwith. The convicts walked back after
+the cross with the same respect as they had received it. Almost
+immediately afterwards, the Major and the Commandant arrived.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> The
+Commandant was liked, and even respected. He made the tour of the
+barracks in company with the Major, wished the convicts a happy
+Christmas, went into the kitchen, and tasted the cabbage soup. It was
+excellent that day. Each convict was entitled to nearly a pound of meat,
+besides which there was millet-seed in it, and certainly the butter had
+not been spared. The Major saw the Commandant to the door, and then
+ordered the convicts to begin dinner. Each endeavoured not to be under
+the Major’s eyes. They did not like his spiteful, inquisitorial look
+from behind his spectacles as he wandered from right to left, seeking
+apparently some disorder to repress, some crime to punish.</p>
+
+<p>We dined. Akim Akimitch’s sucking-pig was admirably roasted. I could
+never understand how, five minutes after the Major left, there was a
+mass of drunken prisoners, whereas as long as he remained every one was
+perfectly calm. Red, radiant faces were now numerous, and the balalaiki
+[Russian banjoes] soon appeared. Then came the little Pole, playing his
+violin, a convivial prisoner having engaged him for the whole day to
+play lively dance-tunes. The conversation became more animated and more
+noisy, but the dinner ended without great disorders. Every one had had
+enough. Some of the old men, serious-minded convicts, went immediately
+to bed. So did Akim Akimitch, who probably thought it was a duty to go
+to sleep after dinner on festival days.</p>
+
+<p>The “old believer” from Starodoub, after having slumbered a little,
+climbed up on to the top of the stove, opened his book, and prayed the
+entire day until late in the evening without interruption. The spectacle
+of so shameless an orgie was painful to him, he said. All the
+Circassians left the table. They looked with curiosity, but with a touch
+of disgust, at this drunken society. I met Nourra.</p>
+
+<p>“Aman, aman,” he said, with a burst of honest indignation, and shaking
+his head. “What an offence to Allah!” Isaiah Fomitch lighted, with an
+arrogant and obstinate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> air, a candle in his favourite corner, and went
+to work in order to show that in his eyes this was no holiday. Here and
+there card parties were arranged. The convicts did not fear the old
+soldiers, but men were placed on the look-out in case the under officer
+should suddenly come in. He made a point, however, of seeing nothing.
+The officer of the guard made altogether three rounds. The prisoners, if
+they were drunk, hid themselves at once. The cards disappeared in the
+twinkling of an eye. I fancy that he had made up his mind not to notice
+any contraventions of an unimportant kind. Drunkenness was not an
+offence that day. Little by little every one became more or less gay.
+Then there were some quarrels. The greater number of the prisoners,
+however, remained calm, amusing themselves with the spectacle of those
+who were intoxicated. Some of these drank without limit.</p>
+
+<p>Gazin was triumphant. He walked about with a self-satisfied air, by the
+side of his camp bedstead, beneath which he had concealed his spirits,
+previously buried beneath the snow behind the barracks, in a secret
+place. He smiled knowingly when he saw customers arrive in crowds. He
+was perfectly calm. He had drunk nothing at all; for it was his
+intention to regale himself the last day of the holidays, after he had
+emptied the pockets of the other prisoners. Throughout the barracks the
+drunkenness was becoming infernal. Singing was heard, and the songs were
+giving way to tears. Some of the prisoners walked about in bands,
+sheepskin on shoulder, striking with a haughty air the strings of their
+balalaiki. A chorus of from eight to ten men had been formed in the
+special section. The singing here was excellent, with its accompaniments
+of balalaiki and guitars.</p>
+
+<p>Songs of a truly popular kind were rare. I remember one which was
+admirably sung:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>Yesterday, I, a young girl,</div>
+<div>Went to the feast.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p><p>A variation was introduced previously unknown to me. At the end of the
+song these lines were added:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>At my house, the house of a young girl,</div>
+<div>Everything is in order.</div>
+<div>I have washed the spoons,</div>
+<div>I have turned out the cabbage-soup,</div>
+<div>I have wiped down the panels of the door,</div>
+<div>I have cooked the patties.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>What they chiefly sang were prison songs; one of them, called “As it
+happened,” was very humorous. It related how a man amused himself, and
+lived like a prince until he was sent to the convict prison, where he
+fared very differently. Another song, only too popular, set forth how
+the hero of it had formerly possessed capital, but had now nothing but
+captivity. Here is a true convict’s song:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>The day breaks in the heavens,</div>
+<div>We are waked up by the drum.</div>
+<div>The old man opens the door,</div>
+<div>The warder comes and calls us.</div>
+<div>No one sees us behind the prison walls,</div>
+<div>Nor how we live in this place.</div>
+<div>But God, the Heavenly Creator, is with us</div>
+<div>He will not let us perish.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Another still more melancholy, but with a superb melody, was sung to
+tame and incorrect words. I can remember a few of the verses:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>My eyes no more will see the land,</div>
+<div>Where I was born;</div>
+<div>To suffer torments undeserved,</div>
+<div>Will be my punishment.</div>
+<div>The owl will shriek upon the roof,</div>
+<div>And raise the echoes of the forest.</div>
+<div>My heart is broken down with grief.</div>
+<div>No, never more shall I return.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>This song is often sung; not as a chorus, but always as a solo. When the
+work is over, a prisoner goes out of the barracks, sits down on the
+threshold, meditates with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> chin resting on his hand, and then drawls
+out his song in a high falsetto. One listens to him, and the effect is
+heart-breaking. Some of our convicts had beautiful voices.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile it was getting dusk. Wearisomeness and general depression were
+making themselves felt through the drunkenness and the debauchery. The
+prisoner, who an hour beforehand was holding his sides with laughter,
+now sobbed in a corner, exceedingly drunk; others were fighting, or
+wandering in a tottering manner through the barracks, pale, very pale,
+and seeking whom to quarrel with. These poor people had wished to pass
+the great festival in the most joyous manner, but, gracious heaven, how
+painful the day was for all of them! They had passed it in the vague
+hope of a happiness that was not to be realised. Petroff came up to me
+twice. As he had drunk very little he was calm; but until the last
+moment he expected something which he made sure would happen, something
+extraordinary, and highly diverting. Although he said nothing about it,
+this could be seen from his looks. He ran from barrack to barrack
+without fatigue. Nothing, however, happened; nothing except general
+intoxication, idiotic insults from drunkards, and general giddiness of heated heads.</p>
+
+<p>Sirotkin wandered about also, dressed in a brand-new red shirt, going
+from barrack to barrack, and good-looking as usual. He also was on the
+watch for something to happen. The spectacle became insupportably
+repulsive, indeed nauseating. There were some laughable things, but I
+was too sad to be amused by them. I felt a deep pity for all these men,
+and felt strangled, stifled, in the midst of them. Here two convicts
+were disputing as to which should treat the other. The dispute lasts a
+long time; they have almost come to blows. One of them has, for a long
+time past, had a grudge against the other. He complains, stammering as
+he does so, and tries to prove to his companion that he acted unjustly
+when, a year before, he sold a pelisse and concealed the money. There
+was more than this too. The complainant is a tall young fellow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> with
+good muscular development, quiet, by no means stupid, but who, when he
+is drunk, wishes to make friends with every one, and to pour out his
+grief into their bosom. He insults his adversary with the intention of
+becoming reconciled to him later on. The other man, a big, massive
+person, with a round face, as cunning as a fox, had perhaps drunk more
+than his companion, but appeared only slightly intoxicated. This convict
+has character, and passes for a rich man; he has probably no interest in
+irritating his companion, and he accordingly leads him to one of the
+drink-sellers. The expansive friend declares that his companion owes him
+money, and that he is bound to stand him a drink “if he has any
+pretensions to be considered an honest man.”</p>
+
+<p>The drink-seller, not without some respect for his customer, and with a
+touch of contempt for the expansive friend (for he was drinking at the
+expense of another man), took a glass and filled it with vodka.</p>
+
+<p>“No, Stepka, you must pay, because you owe me money.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t tire my tongue talking to you any longer,” replied Stepka.</p>
+
+<p>“No, Stepka, you lie,” continues his friend, taking up a glass offered
+to him by the drink-seller. “You owe me money, and you must be without
+conscience. You have not a thing about you that you have not borrowed,
+and I don’t believe your very eyes are your own. In a word, Stepka, you
+are a blackguard.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you whining about? Look, you are spilling your vodka.”</p>
+
+<p>“If you are being treated, why don’t you drink?” cries the drink-seller,
+to the expansive friend. “I cannot wait here until to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will drink, don’t be frightened. What are you crying out about? My
+best wishes for the day. My best wishes for the day, Stepan Doroveitch,”
+replies the latter politely, as he bows, glass in hand, towards Stepka,
+whom the moment before he had called a blackguard. “Good health to you,
+and may you live a hundred years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> in addition to what you have lived
+already.” He drinks, gives a grunt of satisfaction, and wipes his mouth.
+“What quantities of brandy I have drunk,” he says, gravely speaking to
+every one, without addressing any one in particular, “but I have
+finished now. Thank me, Stepka Doroveitch.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is nothing to thank you for.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah! you won’t thank me. Then I will tell every one how you have treated
+me, and, moreover, that you are a blackguard.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then I shall have something to tell you, drunkard that you are,”
+interrupts Stepka, who at last loses patience. “Listen and pay
+attention. Let us divide the world in two. You shall take one half, I
+the other. Then I shall have peace.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then you will not give me back my money?”</p>
+
+<p>“What money do you want, drunkard?”</p>
+
+<p>“My money. It is the sweat of my brow; the labour of my hands. You will
+be sorry for it in the other world. You will be roasted for those five kopecks.”</p>
+
+<p>“Go to the devil.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you driving me for? Am I a horse?”</p>
+
+<p>“Be off, be off.”</p>
+
+<p>“Blackguard!”</p>
+
+<p>“Convict!”</p>
+
+<p>And the insults exchanged were worse than they had been before the visit
+to the drink-seller.</p>
+
+<p>Two friends are seated separately on two camp-bedsteads. One is tall,
+vigorous, fleshy, with a red face&mdash;a regular butcher. He is on the point
+of weeping; for he has been much moved. The other is tall, thin,
+conceited, with an immense nose, which always seems to have a cold, and
+little blue eyes fixed upon the ground. He is a clever, well-bred man,
+and was formerly a secretary. He treats his friend with a little
+disdain, which the latter cannot stand. They have been drinking together all day.</p>
+
+<p>“You have taken a liberty with me,” cries the stout one, as with his
+left hand he shakes the head of his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>companion. To take a liberty
+signifies, in convict language, to strike. This convict, formerly a
+non-commissioned officer, envies in secret the elegance of his
+neighbour, and endeavours to make up for his material grossness by
+refined conversation.</p>
+
+<p>“I tell you, you are wrong,” says the secretary, in a dogmatic tone,
+with his eyes obstinately fixed on the ground, and without looking at his companion.</p>
+
+<p>“You struck me. Do you hear?” continues the other, still shaking his
+dear friend. “You are the only man in the world I care for; but you
+shall not take a liberty with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Confess, my dear fellow,” replies the secretary, “that all this is the
+result of too much drink.”</p>
+
+<p>The corpulent friend falls back with a stagger, looks stupidly with his
+drunken eyes at the secretary, and suddenly, with all his might, sends
+his fist into the secretary’s thin face. Thus terminates the day’s friendship.</p>
+
+<p>The dear friend disappears beneath the camp-bedstead unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>One of my acquaintances enters the barracks. He is a convict of the
+special section, very good-natured, and gay, far from stupid, and
+jocular without malice. He is the man who, on my arrival at the convict
+prison, was looking out for a rich peasant, who spoke so much of his
+self-respect, and ended by drinking my tea. He was forty years old, had
+enormous lips, and a fat, fleshy, red nose. He held a balalaika, and
+struck negligently its strings. He was followed by a little convict,
+with a large head, whom I knew very little, and to whom no one paid any
+attention. Now that he was drunk he had attached himself to Vermaloff,
+and followed him like his shadow, at the same time gesticulating and
+striking with his fist the wall and the camp-bedsteads. He was almost in
+tears. Vermaloff did not notice him any more than if he had not existed.
+The most curious point was that these two men in no way resembled one
+another, neither by their occupations nor by their disposition. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>
+belonged to different sections, and lived in separate barracks. The
+little convict was named Bulkin.</p>
+
+<p>Vermaloff smiled when he saw me seated by the stove. He stopped at some
+distance from me, reflected for a moment, tottered, and then came
+towards me with an affected swagger. Then he swept the strings of his
+instrument, and sung, or recited, tapping at the same time with his boot
+on the ground, the following chant:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div>My darling!</div>
+<div>With her full, fair face,</div>
+<div>Sings like a nightingale;</div>
+<div>In her satin dress,</div>
+<div>With its brilliant trimming,</div>
+<div>She is very fair.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>This song excited Bulkin in an extraordinary manner. He agitated his
+arms, and shrieked out to every one: “He lies, my friends; he lies like
+a quack doctor. There is not a shadow of truth in what he sings.”</p>
+
+<p>“My respects to the venerable Alexander Petrovitch,” said Vermaloff,
+looking at me with a knowing smile. I fancied even he wished to embrace
+me. He was drunk. As for the expression, “My respects to the venerable
+so-and-so,” it is employed by the common people throughout Siberia, even
+when addressed to a young man of twenty. To call a man old is a sign of
+respect, and may amount even to flattery.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Vermaloff, how are you?” I replied.</p>
+
+<p>“So, so. Nothing to boast of. Those who really enjoy the holiday have
+been drinking since early morning.”</p>
+
+<p>Vermaloff did not speak very distinctly.</p>
+
+<p>“He lies; he lies again,” said Bulkin, striking the camp-bedsteads with
+a sort of despair.</p>
+
+<p>One might have sworn that Vermaloff had given his word of honour not to
+pay any attention to him. That was really the most comic thing about it;
+for Bulkin had not quitted him for one moment since the morning. Always
+with him, he quarrelled with Vermaloff about every word; wringing his
+hands, and striking with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> fists against the wall and the camp
+bedsteads till he made them bleed, he suffered visibly from his
+conviction that Vermaloff “lied like a quack doctor.” If Bulkin had had
+hair on his head, he would certainly have torn it in his grief, in his
+profound mortification. One might have thought that he had made himself
+responsible for Vermaloff’s actions, and that all Vermaloff’s faults
+troubled his conscience. The amusing part of it was that Vermaloff continued.</p>
+
+<p>“He lies! He lies! He lies!” cried Bulkin.</p>
+
+<p>“What can it matter to you?” replied the convicts, with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“I must tell you, Alexander Petrovitch, that I was very good-looking
+when I was a young man, and the young girls were very fond of me,” said
+Vermaloff suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>“He lies! He lies!” again interrupted Bulkin, with a groan. The convicts
+burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>“And well I got myself up to please them. I had a red shirt, and broad
+trousers of cotton velvet. I was happy in those days. I got up when I
+liked; did whatever I pleased. In fact&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“He lies,” declared Bulkin.</p>
+
+<p>“I inherited from my father a stone house, two storeys high. Within two
+years I made away with the two storeys; nothing remained to me but the
+street door. Well, what of that. Money comes and goes like a bird.”</p>
+
+<p>“He lies!” declared Bulkin, more resolutely than before.</p>
+
+<p>“Then when I had spent all, I sent a letter to my relations, that they
+might send me some money. They said that I had set their will at naught,
+that I was disrespectful. It is now seven years since I sent off my letter.”</p>
+
+<p>“And any answer?” I asked, with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>“No,” he replied, also laughing, and almost putting his nose in my face.</p>
+
+<p>He then informed me that he had a sweetheart.</p>
+
+<p>“You a sweetheart?”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p><p>“Onufriel said to me the other day: ‘My young woman is marked with
+small-pox, and as ugly as you like; but she has plenty of dresses, while
+yours, though she may be pretty, is a beggar.’”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that true?”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, she is a beggar,” he answered.</p>
+
+<p>He burst into a laugh, and the others laughed with him. Every one indeed
+knew that he had a <i>liaison</i> with a beggar woman, to whom he gave ten
+kopecks every six months.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, what do you want with me?” I said to him, wishing at last to get
+rid of him.</p>
+
+<p>He remained silent, and then, looking at me in the most insinuating manner, said:</p>
+
+<p>“Could not you let me have enough money to buy half-a-pint? I have drunk
+nothing but tea the whole day,” he added, as he took from me the money I
+offered him; “and tea affects me in such a manner that I am afraid of
+becoming asthmatic. It gives me the wind.”</p>
+
+<p>When he took the money I offered him, the despair of Bulkin went beyond
+all bounds. He gesticulated like a man possessed.</p>
+
+<p>“Good people all,” he cried, “the man lies. Everything he
+says&mdash;everything is a lie.”</p>
+
+<p>“What can it matter to you?” cried the convicts, astonished at his
+goings on. “You are possessed.”</p>
+
+<p>“I will not allow him to lie,” continued Bulkin, rolling his eyes, and
+striking his fist with energy on the boards. “He shall not lie.”</p>
+
+<p>Every one laughed. Vermaloff bowed to me after receiving the money, and
+hastened, with many grimaces, to go to the drink-seller. Then only he noticed Bulkin.</p>
+
+<p>“Come!” he said to him, as if the latter were indispensable for the
+execution of some design. “Idiot!” he added, with contempt, as Bulkin
+passed before him.</p>
+
+<p>But enough about this tumultuous scene, which, at last, came to an end.
+The convicts went to sleep heavily on their camp-bedsteads. They spoke
+and raged during<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> their sleep more than on the other nights. Here and
+there they still continued to play at cards. The festival looked forward
+to with such impatience was now over, and to-morrow the daily work, the
+hard labour, will begin again.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER XII.</span> <span class="smaller">THE PERFORMANCE.</span></h3>
+
+<p>On the evening of the third day of the holidays took place our first
+theatrical performance. There had been much trouble about organising it.
+But those who were to act had taken everything upon themselves, and the
+other convicts knew nothing about the representation except that it was
+to take place. We did not even know what was to be played. The actors,
+while they were at work, were always thinking how they could get
+together the greatest number of costumes. Whenever I met Baklouchin he
+snapped his fingers with satisfaction, but told me nothing. I think the
+Major was in a good humour; but we did not know for certain whether he
+knew what was going on or not, whether he had authorised it, or whether
+he had determined to shut his eyes and be silent, after assuring himself
+that everything would take place quietly. He had heard, I fancy, of the
+meditated representation, and said nothing about it, lest he should
+spoil everything. The soldiers would be disorderly, or would get drunk,
+unless they had something to divert them. Thus I think the Major must
+have reasoned, for it will be only natural to do so. I may add that if
+the convicts had not got up a performance during the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> holidays, or done
+something of the kind, the administration would have been obliged to
+organise some sort of amusement; but as our Major was distinguished by
+ideas directly opposed to those of other people, I take a great
+responsibility on myself in saying that he knew of our project and
+authorised it. A man like him must always be crushing and stifling some
+one, taking something away, depriving some one of a right&mdash;in a word,
+for establishing order of this character he was known throughout the town.</p>
+
+<p>It mattered nothing to him that his exactions made the men rebellious.
+For such offences there were suitable punishments (there are some people
+who reason in this way), and with these rascals of convicts there was
+nothing to do but to treat them very severely, deal with them strictly
+according to law. These incapable executants of the law did not in the
+least understand that to apply the law without understanding its spirit
+is to provoke resistance. They are quite astonished that, in addition to
+the execution of the law, good sense and a sound head should be expected
+from them. The last condition would appear to them quite superfluous; to
+require such a thing is vexatious, intolerant.</p>
+
+<p>However this may be, the Sergeant-Major made no objection to the
+performance, and that was all the convicts wanted. I may say in all
+truth that if throughout the holidays there were no disorders in the
+convict prison, no sanguinary quarrels, no robberies, that must be
+attributed to the convicts being permitted to organise their
+performance. I saw with my own eyes how they got out of the way of those
+of their companions who had drunk too much, and how they prevented
+quarrels on the ground that the representation would be forbidden. The
+non-commissioned officer made the prisoners give their word of honour
+that they would behave well, and that all would go off quietly. They
+gave it with pleasure, and kept their promise religiously. They were
+much flattered at finding their word of honour accepted. Let me add that
+the representation cost nothing, absolutely nothing, to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>
+authorities, who were not called upon to spend a farthing. The theatre
+could be put up and taken down within a quarter of an hour; and, in case
+an order stopping the performance suddenly arrived, the scenery could
+have been put away in a second. The costumes were concealed in the
+convicts’ boxes; but first of all let me say how our theatre was
+constructed, what were the costumes, and what the bill, that is to say,
+the pieces that were to be played. To tell the truth, there was no
+written playbill, not, at least, for the first representation. It was
+ready only for the second and third. Baklouchin composed it for the
+officers and other distinguished visitors who might deign to honour the
+performance with their presence, including the officer of the guard, the
+officer of the watch, and an Engineer officer. It was in honour of these
+that the playbill was written out.</p>
+
+<p>It was supposed that the reputation of our theatre would extend to the
+fortress, and even to the town, especially as there was no theatre at
+N&mdash;&mdash;: a few amateur performances, but nothing more. The convicts
+delighted in the smallest success, and boasted of it like children.</p>
+
+<p>“Who knows?” they said to one another; “when our chiefs hear of it they
+will perhaps come and see. Then they will know what convicts are worth,
+for this is not a performance given by soldiers, but a genuine piece
+played by genuine actors; nothing like it could be seen anywhere in the
+town. General Abrosimoff had a representation at his house, and it is
+said he will have another. Well, they may beat us in the matter of
+costumes, but as for the dialogue that is a very different thing. The
+Governor himself will perhaps hear of it, and&mdash;who knows?&mdash;he may come
+himself.”</p>
+
+<p>They had no theatre in the town. In a word, the imagination of the
+convicts, above all after their first success, went so far as to make
+them think that rewards would be distributed to them, and that their
+period of hard labour would be shortened. A moment afterwards they were
+the first to laugh at this fancy. In a word,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> they were children, true
+children, when they were forty years of age. I knew in a general way the
+subjects of the pieces that were to be represented, although there was
+no bill. The title of the first was <i>Philatka and Miroshka Rivals</i>.
+Baklouchin boasted to me, at least a week before the performance, that
+the part of Philatka, which he had assigned to himself, would be played
+in such a manner that nothing like it had ever been seen, even on the
+St. Petersburg stage. He walked about in the barracks puffed up with
+boundless importance. If now and then he declaimed a speech from his
+part in the theatrical style, every one burst out laughing, whether the
+speech was amusing or not; they laughed because he had forgotten
+himself. It must be admitted that the convicts, as a body, were
+self-contained and full of dignity; the only ones who got enthusiastic
+at Baklouchin’s tirades were the young ones, who had no false shame, or
+those who were much looked up to, and whose authority was so firmly
+established that they were not afraid to commit themselves. The others
+listened silently, without blaming or contradicting, but they did their
+best to show that the performance left them indifferent.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until the very last moment, the very day of the
+representation, that every one manifested genuine interest in what our
+companions had undertaken. “What,” was the general question, “would the
+Major say? Would the performance succeed as well as the one given two
+years before?” etc., etc. Baklouchin assured me that all the actors
+would be quite at home on the stage, and that there would even be a
+curtain. Sirotkin was to play a woman’s part. “You will see how well I
+look in women’s clothes,” he said. The Lady Bountiful was to have a
+dress with skirts and trimmings, besides a parasol; while her husband,
+the Lord of the Manor, was to wear an officer’s uniform, with
+epaulettes, and a cane in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>The second piece that was to be played was entitled, <i>Kedril, the
+Glutton</i>. The title puzzled me much, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> it was useless to ask any
+questions about it. I could only learn that the piece was not printed;
+it was a manuscript copy obtained from a retired non-commissioned
+officer in the town, who had doubtless formerly participated in its
+representation on some military stage. We have, indeed, in the distant
+towns and governments, a number of pieces of this kind, which, I
+believe, are perfectly unknown and have never been printed, but which
+appear to have grown up of themselves, in connection with the popular
+theatre, in certain zones of Russia. I have spoken of the popular
+theatre. It would be a good thing if our investigators of popular
+literature would take the trouble to make careful researches as to this
+popular theatre which exists, and which, perhaps, is not so
+insignificant as may be thought.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot think that everything I saw on the stage of our convict prison
+was the work of our convicts. It must have sprung from old traditions
+handed down from generation to generation, and preserved among the
+soldiers, the workmen in industrial towns, and even the shopkeepers in
+some poor, out-of-the-way places. These traditions have been preserved
+in some villages and some Government towns by the servants of the large
+landed proprietors. I even believe that copies of many old pieces have
+been multiplied by these servants of the nobility.</p>
+
+<p>The old Muscovite proprietors and nobles had their own theatres, in
+which their servants used to play. Thence comes our popular theatre, the
+originals of which are beyond discussion. As for <i>Kedril, the Glutton</i>,
+in spite of my lively curiosity, I could learn nothing about it, except
+that demons appeared on the stage and carried Kedril away to hell. What
+did the name of Kedril signify? Why was he called Kedril and not Cyril?
+Was the name Russian or foreign? I could not resolve this question.</p>
+
+<p>It was announced that the representation would terminate with a musical
+pantomime. All this promised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> to be very curious. The actors were
+fifteen in number, all vivacious men. They were very energetic, got up a
+number of rehearsals which sometimes took place behind the barracks,
+kept away from the others, and gave themselves mysterious airs. They
+evidently wished to surprise us with something extraordinary and unexpected.</p>
+
+<p>On work days the barracks were shut very early as night approached, but
+an exception was made during the Christmas holidays, when the padlocks
+were not put to the gates until the evening retreat&mdash;nine o’clock. This
+favour had been granted specially in view of the play. During the whole
+duration of the holidays a deputation was sent every evening to the
+officer of the guard very humbly “to permit the representation and not
+to shut at the usual hour.” It was added that there had been previous
+representations, and that nothing disorderly had occurred at any of them.</p>
+
+<p>The officer of the guard must have reasoned as follows: There was no
+disorder, no infraction of discipline at the previous performance, and
+the moment they give their word that to-night’s performance shall take
+place in the same manner, they mean to be their own police&mdash;the most
+rigorous police of all. Moreover, he knew well that if he took it upon
+himself to forbid the representation, these fellows (who knows, and with
+convicts?) would have committed some offence which would have placed the
+officer of the guard in a very difficult position. One final reason
+insured his consent: To mount guard is horribly tiresome, and if he
+authorised the performance he would see the play acted, not by soldiers,
+but by convicts, a curious set of people. It would certainly be
+interesting, and he had a right to be present at it.</p>
+
+<p>In case the superior officer arrived and asked for the officer of the
+guard, he would be told that the latter had gone to count the convicts
+and close the barracks; an answer which could easily be made, and which
+could not be disproved. That is why our superintendents authorised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> the
+performance; and throughout the holidays the barracks were kept open
+each evening until the retreat. The convicts had known beforehand that
+they would meet with no opposition from the officer of the guard. They
+were quite quiet about him.</p>
+
+<p>Towards six o’clock Petroff came to look for me, and we went together to
+the theatre. Nearly all the prisoners of our barracks were there, with
+the exception of the “old believer” from Tchernigoff, and the Poles. The
+latter did not decide to be present until the last day of the
+representation, the 4th of January, after they had been assured that
+everything would be managed in a becoming manner. The haughtiness of the
+Poles irritated our convicts. Accordingly they were received on the 4th
+of January with formal politeness, and conducted to the best places. As
+for the Circassians and Isaiah Fomitch, the play was for them a genuine
+delight. Isaiah Fomitch gave three kopecks each time, except the last,
+when he placed ten kopecks on the plate; and how happy he looked!</p>
+
+<p>The actors had decided that each spectator should give what he thought
+fit. The receipts were to cover the expenses, and anything beyond was to
+go to the actors. Petroff assured me that I should be allowed to have
+one of the best places, however full the theatre might be; first,
+because being richer than the others, there was a probability of my
+giving more; and, secondly, because I knew more about acting than any
+one else. What he had foreseen took place. But let me first describe the theatre.</p>
+
+<p>The barrack of the military section, which had been turned into the
+theatre, was fifteen feet long. From the court-yard one entered, first
+an ante-chamber, and afterwards the barrack itself. The building was
+arranged, as I have already mentioned, in a particular manner, the beds
+being placed against the wall, so as to leave an open space in the
+middle. One half of the barrack was reserved for the spectators, while
+the other, which communicated with the second building, formed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+stage. What astonished me directly I entered, was the curtain, which was
+about ten feet long, and divided the barrack into two. It was indeed a
+marvel, for it was painted in oil, and represented trees, tunnels,
+ponds, and stars.</p>
+
+<p>It was made of pieces of linen, old and new, given by the convicts;
+shirts, the bandages which our peasants wrap round their feet in lieu of
+socks, all sewn together well or ill, and forming together an immense
+sheet. Where there was not enough linen, it had been replaced by writing
+paper, taken sheet by sheet from the various office bureaus. Our
+painters (among whom we had our Bruloff) had painted it all over, and
+the effect was very remarkable.</p>
+
+<p>This luxurious curtain delighted the convicts, even the most sombre and
+most morose. These, however, like the others, as soon as the play began,
+showed themselves mere children. They were all pleased and satisfied
+with a certain satisfaction of vanity. The theatre was lighted with
+candle ends. Two benches, which had been brought from the kitchen, were
+placed before the curtain, together with three or four large chairs,
+borrowed from the non-commissioned officers’ room. These chairs were for
+the officers, should they think fit to honour the performance. As for
+the benches, they were for the non-commissioned officers, engineers,
+clerks, directors of the works, and all the immediate superiors of the
+convicts who had not officer’s rank, and who had come perhaps to take a
+look at the representation. In fact, there was no lack of visitors.
+According to the days, they came in greater or smaller numbers, while
+for the last representation there was not a single place unoccupied on the benches.</p>
+
+<p>At the back the convicts stood crowded together; standing up out of
+respect to the visitors, and dressed in their vests, or in their short
+pelisses, in spite of the suffocating heat. As might have been expected,
+the place was too small; so all the prisoners stood up, heaped
+together&mdash;above all in the last rows. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>camp-bedsteads were all
+occupied; and there were some amateurs who disputed constantly behind
+the stage in the other barrack, and who viewed the performance from the
+back. I was asked to go forward, and Petroff with me, close to the
+benches, whence a good view could be obtained. They looked upon me as a
+good judge, a connoisseur, who had seen many other theatres. The
+convicts remarked that Baklouchin had often consulted me, and that he
+had shown deference to my advice. Consequently they thought that I ought
+to be treated with honour, and to have one of the best places. These men
+are vain and frivolous, but only on the surface. They laughed at me when
+I was at work, because I was a poor workman. Almazoff had a right to
+despise us gentlemen, and to boast of his superior skill in pounding the
+alabaster. His laughter and raillery were directed against our origin,
+for we belonged by birth to the caste of his former masters, of whom he
+could not preserve a good recollection; but here at the theatre these
+same men made way for me; for they knew that about this matter I knew
+more than they did. Those, even, who were not at all well disposed
+towards me, were glad to hear me praise the performance, and gave way to
+me without the least servility. I judged now by my impressions of that
+time. I understood that in this new view of theirs there was no lowering
+of themselves; rather a sentiment of their own dignity.</p>
+
+<p>The most striking characteristic of our people is its conscientiousness,
+and its love of justice; no false vanity, no sly ambition to reach the
+first rank without being entitled to do so; such faults are foreign to
+our people. Take it from its rough shell, and you will perceive, if you
+study it without prejudice, attentively, and close at hand, qualities
+which you would never have suspected. Our sages have very little to
+teach our people. I will even say more; they might take lessons from it.</p>
+
+<p>Petroff had told me innocently, on taking me into the theatre, that they
+would pass me to the front, because they expected more money from me.
+There were no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> fixed prices for the places. Each one gave what he liked,
+and what he could. Nearly every one placed a piece of money in the plate
+when it was handed round. Even if they had passed me forward in the hope
+that I should give more than others, was there not in that a certain
+feeling of personal dignity?</p>
+
+<p>“You are richer than I am. Go to the first row. We are all equal here,
+it is true; but you pay more, and the actors prefer a spectator like
+you. Occupy the first place then, for we are not here with money, and
+must arrange ourselves anyhow.”</p>
+
+<p>What noble pride in this mode of action! In final analysis not love of
+money, but self-respect. There was little esteem for money among us. I
+do not remember that one of us ever lowered himself to obtain money.
+Some men used to make up to me, but from love of cunning and of fun
+rather than in the hope of obtaining any benefit. I do not know whether
+I explain myself clearly. I am, in any case, forgetting the performance.
+Let me return to it.</p>
+
+<p>Before the rise of the curtain, the room presented a strange and
+animated look. In the first place, the crowd pressed, crushed, jammed
+together on all sides, but impatient, full of expectation, every face
+glowing with delight. In the last ranks was the grovelling, confused
+mass of convicts. Many of them had brought with them logs of wood, which
+they placed against the wall, on which they climbed up. In this
+fatiguing position they paused to rest themselves by placing both hands
+on the shoulders of their companions, who seemed quite at ease. Others
+stood on their toes, with their heels against the stove, and thus
+remained throughout the representation, supported by those around them.
+Massed against the camp-bedsteads was another compact crowd; for here
+were some of the best places of all. Five convicts had hoisted
+themselves up to the top of the stove, whence they had a commanding
+view. These fortunate ones were extremely happy. Elsewhere swarmed the
+late arrivals, unable to find good places.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p><p>Every one conducted himself in a becoming manner, without making any
+noise. Each one wished to show advantageously before the distinguished
+persons who were visiting us. Simple and natural was the expression of
+these red faces, damp with perspiration, as the rise of the curtain was
+eagerly expected. What a strange look of infinite delight, of unmixed
+pleasure, was painted on these scarred faces, these branded foreheads,
+so dark and menacing at ordinary times! They were all without their
+caps, and as I looked back at them from my place, it seemed to me that
+their heads were entirely shaved.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the signal is given, and the orchestra begins to play. This
+orchestra deserves a special mention. It consisted of eight musicians:
+two violins, one of which was the property of a convict, while the other
+had been borrowed from outside; three balalaiki, made by the convicts
+themselves; two guitars, and a tambourine. The violins sighed and
+shrieked, and the guitars were worthless, but the balalaiki were
+remarkably good; and the agile fingering of the artists would have done
+honour to the cleverest executant.</p>
+
+<p>They played scarcely anything but dance tunes. At the most exciting
+passages they struck with their fingers on the body of their
+instruments. The tone, the execution of the motive, were always original
+and distinctive. One of the guitarists knew his instrument thoroughly.
+It was the gentleman who had killed his father. As for the tambourinist,
+he really did wonders. Now he whirled round the disk, balanced on one of
+his fingers; now he rubbed the parchment with his thumb, and brought
+from it a countless multitude of notes, now dull, now brilliant.</p>
+
+<p>At last two harmonigers join the orchestra. I had no idea until then of
+all that could be done with these popular and vulgar instruments. I was
+astonished. The harmony, but, above all, the expression, the very
+conception of the motive, were admirably rendered. I then understood
+perfectly, and for the first time, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>remarkable boldness, the
+striking abandonment, which are expressed in our popular dance tunes,
+and our village songs.</p>
+
+<p>At last the curtain rose. Every one made a movement. Those who were at
+the back raised themselves upon the point of their feet; some one fell
+down from his log. At once there were looks that enjoined silence. The
+performance now began.</p>
+
+<p>I was seated not far from Ali, who was in the midst of the group formed
+by his brothers and the other Circassians. They had a passionate love of
+the theatre, and did not miss one of our evenings. I have remarked that
+all the Mohammedans, Circassians, and so on, are fond of all kinds of
+representations. Near them was Isaiah Fomitch, quite in a state of
+ecstasy. As soon as the curtain rose he was all ears and eyes; his
+countenance expressed an expectation of something marvellous. I should
+have been grieved had he been disappointed. The charming face of Ali
+shone with a childish joy, so pure that I was quite happy to behold it.
+Involuntarily, whenever a general laugh echoed an amusing remark, I
+turned towards him to see his countenance. He did not notice it, he had
+something else to do.</p>
+
+<p>Near him, placed on the left, was a convict, already old, sombre,
+discontented, and always grumbling. He also had noticed Ali, and I saw
+him cast furtive glances more than once towards him, so charming was the
+young Circassian. The prisoners always called him Ali Simeonitch,
+without my knowing why.</p>
+
+<p>In the first piece, <i>Philatka and Miroshka</i>, Baklouchin, in the part of
+Philatka, was really marvellous. He played his r&ocirc;le to perfection. It
+could be seen that he had weighed each speech, each movement. He managed
+to give to each word, each gesture, a meaning which responded perfectly
+to the character of the personage. Apart from the conscientious study he
+had made of the character, he was gay, simple, natural, irresistible. If
+you had seen Baklouchin you would certainly have said that he was a
+genuine actor, an actor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> by vocation, and of great talent. I have seen
+Philatka several times at the St. Petersburg and Moscow theatres, and I
+declare that none of our celebrated actors was equal to Baklouchin in
+this part. They were peasants, from no matter what country, and not true
+Russian moujiks. Moreover, their desire to be peasant-like was too
+apparent. Baklouchin was animated by emulation; for it was known that
+the convict Potsiakin was to play the part of Kedril in the second
+piece, and it was assumed&mdash;I do not know why&mdash;that the latter would show
+more talent than Baklouchin. The latter was as vexed by this preference
+as a child. How many times did he not come to me during the last days to
+tell me all he felt! Two hours before the representation he was attacked
+by fever. When the audience burst out laughing, and called out “Bravo,
+Baklouchin! what a fellow you are!” his figure shone with joy, and true
+inspiration could be read in his eyes. The scene of the kisses between
+Kiroshka and Philatka, in which the latter calls out to the daughter,
+“Wife, your mouth,” and then wipes his own, was wonderfully comic. Every
+one burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>What interested me was the spectators. They were all at their ease, and
+gave themselves up frankly to their mirth. Cries of approbation became
+more and more numerous. A convict nudged his companion with his elbow,
+and hastily communicated his impressions, without even troubling himself
+to know who was by his side. When a comic song began, one man might be
+seen agitating his arms violently, as if to engage his companions to
+laugh; after which he turned suddenly towards the stage. A third smacked
+his tongue against his palate, and could not keep quiet a moment; but as
+there was not room for him to change his position, he hopped first on
+one leg, then on the other; towards the end of the piece the general
+gaiety attained its climax. I exaggerate nothing. Imagine the convict
+prison, chains, captivity, long years of confinement, of task-work, of
+monotonous life, falling away drop by drop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> like rain on an autumn day;
+imagine all this despair in presence of permission given to the convicts
+to amuse themselves, to breathe freely for an hour, to forget their
+nightmare, and to organise a play&mdash;and what a play! one that excited the
+envy and admiration of our town.</p>
+
+<p>“Fancy those convicts!” people said: everything interested them, take
+the costumes for instance. It seemed very strange, but then to see,
+Nietsvitaeff, or Baklouchin, in a different costume from the one they
+had worn for so many years.</p>
+
+<p>He is a convict, a genuine convict, whose chains ring when he walks; and
+there he is, out on the stage with a frock-coat, and a round hat, and a
+cloak, like any ordinary civilian. He has put on hair, moustaches. He
+takes a red handkerchief from his pocket and shakes it, like a real
+nobleman. What enthusiasm is created! The “good landlord” arrives in an
+aide-de-camp uniform, a very old one, it is true, but with epaulettes,
+and a cocked hat. The effect produced was indescribable. There had been
+two candidates for this costume, and&mdash;will it be believed?&mdash;they had
+quarrelled like two little schoolboys as to which of them should play
+the part. Both wanted to appear in military uniform with epaulettes. The
+other actors separated them, and, by a majority of voices, the part was
+entrusted to Nietsvitaeff; not because he was more suited to it than the
+other, and that he bore a greater resemblance to a nobleman, but only
+because he had assured them all that he would have a cane, and that he
+would twirl it and rap it out grand, like a true nobleman&mdash;a dandy of
+the latest fashion&mdash;which was more than Vanka and Ospiety could do,
+seeing they have never known any noblemen. In fact, when Nietsvitaeff
+went to the stage with his wife, he did nothing but draw circles on the
+floor with his light bamboo cane, evidently thinking that this was the
+sign of the best breeding, of supreme elegance. Probably in his
+childhood, when he was still a barefooted child, he had been attracted
+by the skill of some proprietor in twirling his cane, and this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
+impression had remained in his memory, although thirty years afterwards.</p>
+
+<p>Nietsvitaeff was so occupied with his process that he saw no one, he
+gave the replies in his dialogue without even raising his eyes. The most
+important thing for him was the end of his cane, and the circles he drew
+with it. The Lady Bountiful was also very remarkable; she came on in an
+old worn-out muslin dress, which looked like a rag. Her arms and neck
+were bare. She had a little calico cap on her head, with strings under
+her chin, an umbrella in one hand, and in the other a fan of coloured
+paper, with which she constantly fanned herself. This great lady was
+welcomed with a wild laugh; she herself, too, was unable to restrain
+herself, and burst out more than once. The part was filled by the
+convict Ivanoff. As for Sirotkin, in his girl’s dress, he looked
+exceedingly well. The couplets were all well sung. In a word, the piece
+was played to the satisfaction of every one; not the least hostile
+criticism was passed&mdash;who, indeed, was there to criticise? The air,
+“Sieni moi Sieni,” was played again by way of overture, and the curtain
+again went up.</p>
+
+<p><i>Kedril, the Glutton</i>, was now to be played. Kedril is a sort of Don
+Juan. This comparison may justly be made, for the master and the servant
+are both carried away by devils at the end of the piece; and the piece,
+as the convicts had it, was played quite correctly; but the beginning
+and the end must have been lost, for it had neither head nor tail. The
+scene is laid in an inn somewhere in Russia. The innkeeper introduces
+into a room a nobleman wearing a cloak and a battered round hat; the
+valet, Kedril, follows his master; he carries a valise, and a fowl
+rolled up in blue paper; he wears a short pelisse and a footman’s cap.
+It is this fellow who is the glutton. The convict Potsiakin, the rival
+of Baklouchin, played this part, while the part of the nobleman was
+filled by Ivanoff, the same who played the great lady in the first
+piece. The innkeeper (Nietsvitaeff) warns the nobleman that the room is
+haunted by demons,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> and goes away; the nobleman is interested and
+preoccupied; he murmurs aloud that he has known that for a long time,
+and orders Kedril to unpack his things and to get supper ready.</p>
+
+<p>Kedril is a glutton and a coward. When he hears of devils he turns pale
+and trembles like a leaf; he would like to run away, but is afraid of
+his master; besides, he is hungry, he is voluptuous, he is sensual,
+stupid, though cunning in his way, and, as before said, a poltroon; he
+cheats his master every moment, though he fears him like fire. This type
+of servant is a remarkable one in which may be recognised the principal
+features of the character of Leporello, but indistinct and confused. The
+part was played in really superior style by Potsiakin, whose talent was
+beyond discussion, surpassing as it did in my opinion that of Baklouchin
+himself. But when the next day I spoke to Baklouchin I concealed my
+impression from him, knowing that it would give him bitter pain.</p>
+
+<p>As for the convict who played the part of the nobleman, it was not bad.
+Everything he said was without meaning, incomparable to anything I had
+ever heard before; but his enunciation was pure and his gestures
+becoming. While Kedril occupies himself with the valise, his master
+walks up and down, and announces that from that day forth he means to
+lead a quiet life. Kedril listens, makes grimaces, and amuses the
+spectators by his reflections “aside.” He has no pity for his master,
+but he has heard of devils, would like to know what they are like, and
+thereupon questions him. The nobleman replies that some time ago, being
+in danger of death, he asked succour from hell. Then the devils aided
+and delivered him, but the term of his liberty has expired; and if the
+devils come that evening, it will be to exact his soul, as has been
+agreed in their compact. Kedril begins to tremble in earnest, but his
+master does not lose courage, and orders him to prepare the supper.
+Hearing of victuals, Kedril revives. Taking out a bottle of wine, he
+taps it on his own account. The audience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> expands with laughter; but the
+door grates on its hinges, the winds shakes the shutters, Kedril
+trembles, and hastily, almost without knowing what he is doing, puts
+into his mouth an enormous piece of fowl, which he is unable to swallow.
+There is another gust of wind.</p>
+
+<p>“Is it ready?” cries the master, still walking backwards and forwards in his room.</p>
+
+<p>“Directly, sir. I am preparing it,” says Kedril, who sits down, and,
+taking care that his master does not see him, begins to eat the supper
+himself. The audience is evidently charmed with the cunning of the
+servant, who so cleverly makes game of the nobleman; and it must be
+admitted that Poseikin, the representative of the part, deserved high
+praise. He pronounced admirably the words: “Directly, sir.
+I&mdash;am&mdash;preparing&mdash;it.”</p>
+
+<p>Kedril eats gradually, and at each mouthful trembles lest his master
+shall see him. Every time that the nobleman turns round Kedril hides
+under the table, holding the fowl in his hand. When he has appeased his
+hunger, he begins to think of his master.</p>
+
+<p>“Kedril, will it soon be ready?” cries the nobleman.</p>
+
+<p>“It is ready now,” replies Kedril boldly, when all at once he perceives
+that there is scarcely anything left. Nothing remains but one leg. The
+master, still sombre and pre-occupied, notices nothing, and takes his
+seat, while Kedril places himself behind him with a napkin on his arm.
+Every word, every gesture, every grimace from the servant, as he turns
+towards the audience to laugh at his master’s expense, excites the
+greatest mirth among the convicts. Just at the moment when the young
+nobleman begins to eat, the devils arrive. They resemble nothing human
+or terrestrial. The side-door opens, and the phantom appears dressed
+entirely in white, with a lighted lantern in lieu of a head, and with a
+scythe in its hand. Why the white dress, scythe, and lantern? No one
+could tell me, and the matter did not trouble the convicts. They were
+sure that this was the way it ought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> to be done. The master comes
+forward courageously to meet the apparitions, and calls out to them that
+he is ready, and that they can take him. But Kedril, as timid as a hare,
+hides under the table, not forgetting, in spite of his fright, to take a
+bottle with him. The devils disappear, Kedril comes out of his
+hiding-place, and the master begins to eat his fowl. Three devils enter
+the room, and seize him to take him to hell.</p>
+
+<p>“Save me, Kedril,” he cries. But Kedril has something else to think of.
+He has now with him in his hiding-place not only the bottle, but also
+the plate of fowl and the bread. He is now alone. The demons are far
+away, and his master also. Kedril gets from under the table, looks all
+round, and suddenly his face beams with joy. He winks, like the rogue he
+is, sits down in his master’s place, and whispers to the audience: “I
+have now no master but myself.”</p>
+
+<p>Every one laughs at seeing him masterless; and he says, always in an
+under-tone and with a confidential air: “The devils have carried him off!”</p>
+
+<p>The enthusiasm of the spectators is now without limits. The last phrase
+was uttered with such roguery, with such a triumphant grimace, that it
+was impossible not to applaud. But Kedril’s happiness does not last
+long. Hardly has he taken up the bottle of wine, and poured himself out
+a large glass, which he carries to his lips, than the devils return,
+slip behind, and seize him. Kedril howls like one possessed, but he dare
+not turn round. He wishes to defend himself, but cannot, for in his
+hands he holds the bottle and the glass, from which he will not
+separate. His eyes starting from his head, his mouth gaping with horror,
+he remains for a moment looking at the audience with a comic expression
+of cowardice that might have been painted. At last he is dragged,
+carried away. His arms and legs are agitated in every direction, but he
+still sticks to his bottle. He also shrieks, and his cries are still
+heard when he has been carried from the stage.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain falls amid general laughter, and every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> one is delighted.
+The orchestra now attacks the famous dance tune Kamarinskaia. First it
+is played softly, pianissimo; but little by little, the motive is
+developed and played more lightly. The time is quickened, and the wood,
+as well as the strings of the balalaiki, is made to sound. The musicians
+enter thoroughly into the spirit of the dance. Glinka [who has arranged
+the Kamarinskaia in the most ingenious manner, and with harmonies of his
+own devising, for full orchestra] should have heard it as it was
+executed in our Convict Prison.</p>
+
+<p>The pantomimic musical accompaniment is begun; and throughout the
+Kamarinskaia is played. The stage represents the interior of a hut. A
+miller and his wife are sitting down, one mending clothes, the other
+spinning flax. Sirotkin plays the part of the wife, and Nietsvitaeff
+that of the husband. Our scenery was very poor. In this piece, as in the
+preceding ones, imagination had to supply what was wanting in reality.
+Instead of a wall at the back of the stage, there was a carpet or a
+blanket; on the right, shabby screens; while on the left, where the
+stage was not closed, the camp-bedsteads could be seen; but the
+spectators were not exacting, and were willing to imagine all that was
+wanting. It was an easy task for them; all convicts are great dreamers.
+Directly they are told “this is a garden,” it is for them a garden.
+Informed that “this is a hut,” they accept the definition without
+difficulty. To them it is a hut. Sirotkin was charming in a woman’s
+dress. The miller finishes his work, takes his cap and his whip, goes up
+to his wife, and gives her to understand by signs, that if during his
+absence she makes the mistake of receiving any one, she will have to
+deal with him&mdash;and he shows her his whip. The wife listens, and nods
+affirmatively her head. The whip is evidently known to her; the hussey
+has often deserved it. The husband goes out. Hardly has he turned upon
+his heel, than his wife shakes her fist at him. There is a knock; the
+door opens, and in comes a neighbour, miller also by trade. He wears a
+beard, is in a kuftan, and he brings as a present a red handkerchief.
+The woman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> smiles. Another knock is heard at the door. Where shall she
+hide him? She conceals him under the table, and takes up her distaff
+again. Another admirer now presents himself&mdash;a farrier in the uniform of
+a non-commissioned officer.</p>
+
+<p>Until now the pantomime had gone on capitally; the gestures of the
+actors being irreproachable. It was astounding to see these improvised
+players going through their parts in so correct a manner; and
+involuntarily one said to oneself:</p>
+
+<p>“What a deal of talent is lost in our Russia, left without use in our
+prisons and places of exile!”</p>
+
+<p>The convict who played the part of the farrier had, doubtless, taken
+part in a performance at some provincial theatre, or had played with
+amateurs. It seemed to me, in any case, that our actors knew nothing of
+acting as an art, and bore themselves in the meanest manner. When it was
+his turn to appear, he came on like one of the classical heroes of the
+old repertory&mdash;taking a long stride with one foot before he raised the
+other from the ground, throwing back his head on the upper part of his
+body and casting proud looks around him. If such a gait was ridiculous
+on the part of classical heroes, still more so was it when the actor was
+representing a comic character. But the audience thought it quite
+natural, and accepted the actor’s triumphant walk as a necessary fact,
+without criticising it.</p>
+
+<p>A moment after the entry of the second admirer there is another knock at
+the door. The wife loses her head. Where is the farrier to be concealed?
+In her big box. It fortunately is open. The farrier disappears within it
+and the lid falls upon him.</p>
+
+<p>The new arrival is a Brahmin, in full costume. His entry is hailed by
+the spectators with a formidable laugh. This Brahmin is represented by
+the convict Cutchin, who plays the part perfectly, thanks, in a great
+measure, to a suitable physiognomy. He explains in the pantomime his
+love of the miller’s<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> wife, raises his hands to heaven, and then clasps
+them on his breast.</p>
+
+<p>There is now another knock at the door&mdash;a vigorous one this time. There
+could be no mistake about it. It is the master of the house. The
+miller’s wife loses her head; the Brahmin runs wildly on all sides,
+begging to be concealed. She helps him to slip behind the cupboard, and
+begins to spin, and goes on spinning without thinking of opening the
+door. In her fright she gets the thread twisted, drops the spindle, and,
+in her agitation, makes the gesture of turning it when it is lying on
+the ground. Sirotkin represented perfectly this state of alarm.</p>
+
+<p>Then the miller kicks open the door and approaches his wife, whip in
+hand. He has seen everything, for he was spying outside; and he
+indicates by signs to his wife that she has three lovers concealed in
+the house. Then he searches them out.</p>
+
+<p>First, he finds the neighbour, whom he drives out with his fist. The
+frightened farrier tries to escape. He raises, with his head, the cover
+of the chest, and is at once seen. The miller thrashes him with his
+whip, and for once this gallant does not march in the classical style.</p>
+
+<p>The only one now remaining is the Brahmin, whom the husband seeks for
+some time without finding him. At last he discovers him in his corner
+behind the cupboard, bows to him politely, and then draws him by his
+beard into the middle of the stage. The Brahmin tries to defend himself,
+and cries out, “Accursed, accursed!”&mdash;the only words pronounced
+throughout the pantomime. But the husband will not listen to him, and,
+after settling accounts with him, turns to his wife. Seeing that her
+turn has come, she throws away both wheel and spindle, and runs out,
+causing an earthen pot to fall as she shakes the room in her fright. The
+convicts burst into a laugh, and Ali, without looking at me, takes my
+hand, and calls out, “See, see the Brahmin!” He cannot hold himself
+upright, so overpowering is his laugh. The curtain falls, and another song begins.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p><p>There were two or three more, all broadly humorous and very droll. The
+convicts had not composed them themselves, but they had contributed
+something to them. Every actor improvised to such purpose that the part
+was a different one each evening. The pantomime ended with a ballet, in
+which there was a burial. The Brahmin went through various incantations
+over the corpse, and with effect. The dead man returns to life, and, in
+their joy, all present begin to dance. The Brahmin dances in Brahminical
+style with the dead man. This was the final scene. The convicts now
+separated, happy, delighted, and full of praise for the actors and
+gratitude towards the non-commissioned officers. There was not the least
+quarrel, and they all went to bed with peaceful hearts, to sleep with a
+sleep by no means familiar to them.</p>
+
+<p>This is no fantasy of my imagination, but the truth, the very truth.
+These unhappy men had been permitted to live for some moments in their
+own way, to amuse themselves in a human manner, to escape for a brief
+hour from their sad position as convicts; and a moral change was
+effected, at least for a time.</p>
+
+<p>The night is already quite dark. Something makes me shudder, and I
+awake. The “old believer” is still on the top of the high porcelain
+stove praying, and he will continue to pray until dawn. Ali is sleeping
+peacefully by my side. I remember that when he went to bed he was still
+laughing and talking about the theatre with his brothers. Little by
+little I began to remember everything; the preceding day, the Christmas
+holidays, and the whole month. I raised my head in fright and looked at
+my companions, who were sleeping by the trembling light of the candle
+provided by the authorities. I look at their unhappy countenances, their
+miserable beds; I view this nakedness, the wretchedness, and then
+convince myself that it is not a frightful night there, but a simple
+reality. Yes, it is a reality. I hear a groan. Some one has moved his
+arm and made his chains rattle. Another one is agitated in his dreams
+and speaks aloud, while the old grandfather is praying for the “Orthodox
+Christians.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> I listened to his prayer, uttered with regularity, in
+soft, rather drawling tones: “Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I am not here for ever, but only for a few years,” I said to
+myself, and I again laid my head down on my pillow.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><span>Part II.</span></h2>
+
+<hr class="smler">
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER I.</span> <span class="smaller">THE HOSPITAL</span></h3>
+
+<p>Shortly after the Christmas holidays I felt ill, and had to go to our
+military hospital, which stood apart at about half a verst (one-third of
+a mile) from the fortress. It was a one-storey building, very long, and
+painted yellow. Every summer a great quantity of ochre was expended in
+brightening it up. In the immense court-yard stood buildings, including
+those where the chief physicians lived, while the principal building
+contained only wards intended for the patients. There were a good many
+of them, but as only two were reserved for the convicts, these latter
+were nearly always full, above all in summer, so that it was often
+necessary to bring the beds closer together. These wards were occupied
+by “unfortunates” of all kinds: first by our own, then by military
+prisoners, previously incarcerated in the guard-houses. There were
+others, again, who had not yet been tried, or who were passing through.
+In this hospital, too, were invalids from the Disciplinary Company, a
+melancholy institution for bringing together soldiers of bad conduct,
+with a view to their correction. At the end of a year or two, they come
+back the most thorough-going rascals that the earth can endure.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p><p>When a convict felt that he was ill, he told the non-commissioned
+officer, who wrote the man’s name down on a card, which he then gave to
+him and sent him to the hospital under the escort of a soldier. On his
+arrival he was examined by a doctor, who authorised the convict to
+remain at the hospital if he was really ill. My name was duly written
+down, and towards one o’clock, when all my companions had started for
+their afternoon work, I went to the hospital. Every prisoner took with
+him such money and bread as he could (for food was not to be expected
+the first day), a little pipe, and pouch containing tobacco, with flint,
+steel, and match-paper. The convicts concealed these objects in their
+boots. On entering the hospital I experienced a feeling of curiosity,
+for a new aspect of life was now presented.</p>
+
+<p>The day was hot, cloudy, sad&mdash;one of those days when places like a
+hospital assume a particularly disagreeable and repulsive look. Myself
+and the soldier escorting me went into the entrance room, where there
+were two copper baths. There were two convicts waiting there with their
+warders. An assistant surgeon came in, looked at us with a careless and
+patronising air, and went away still more carelessly to announce our
+arrival to the physician on duty. Soon the physician arrived. He
+examined me, treating me in a very affable manner, and gave me a paper
+on which my name was inscribed. The ordinary physician of the wards
+reserved for the convicts was to make the diagnosis of my illness, to
+prescribe the fitting remedies, together with the necessary diet. I had
+already heard the convicts say that their doctors could not be too much
+praised. “They are fathers to us,” they would say.</p>
+
+<p>I took my clothes off to put on another costume. Our clothes and linen
+were taken away, and we were given hospital linen instead, to which were
+added long stockings, slippers, cotton nightcaps, and a dressing-gown of
+a very thick brown cloth, which was lined, not with linen, but with
+filth. The dressing-gown was indeed very filthy, but I soon understood
+its utility. We were afterwards taken to the convict wards, which were
+at the head of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> long corridor, very high, and very clean. The external
+cleanliness was quite satisfactory. Everything that could be seen shone;
+so, at least, it seemed to me, after the dirtiness of the convict prison.</p>
+
+<p>The two prisoners, whom I had found in the entrance hall, went to the
+left of the corridor, while I entered a room. Before the padlocked door
+walked a sentinel, musket on shoulder; and not far off was the soldier
+who was to replace him. The sergeant of the hospital guard ordered him
+to let me pass, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a long
+narrow room, with beds to the number of twenty-two arranged against the
+walls. Three or four of them were still unoccupied. These wooden beds
+were painted green, and, as is notoriously the case with all hospital
+beds in Russia, were doubtless inhabited by bugs. I went into a corner
+by the side of the windows. There were very few prisoners dangerously
+ill and confined to their beds.</p>
+
+<p>The inmates of the hospital were, for the most part, convalescents, or
+men who were slightly indisposed. My new companions were stretched out
+on their couches, or walking about up and down between the rows of beds.
+There was just space enough for them to come and go. The atmosphere of
+the ward was stifling with the odour peculiar to hospitals. It was
+composed of various emanations, each more disagreeable than the other,
+and of the smell of drugs; though the stove was kept well heated all day
+long, my bed was covered with a counterpane, which I took off. The bed
+itself consisted of a cloth blanket lined with linen, and coarse sheets
+of more than doubtful cleanliness. By the side of the bed was a little
+table with a pitcher and a pewter mug, together with a diminutive
+napkin, which had been given to me. The table could, moreover, hold a
+tea-urn for those patients who were rich enough to drink tea. These men
+of means, however, were not very numerous. The pipes and the tobacco
+pouches&mdash;for all the patients smoked, even the consumptive ones&mdash;could
+be concealed beneath the mattress. The doctors and the other officials
+scarcely ever made searches, and when they surprised a patient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> with a
+pipe in his mouth, they pretended not to see. The patients, however,
+were very prudent, and smoked always at the back of the stove. They
+never smoked in their beds except at night, when no rounds were made by
+the officers commanding the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>Until then I had not been in any hospital in the character of patient,
+so that everything was quite new to me. I noticed that my entry had
+mystified some of the prisoners. They had heard of me, and all the
+inmates now looked upon me with that slight shade of superiority which
+recognised members of no matter what society show to one newly admitted
+among them. On my right was lying down a man committed for trial&mdash;an
+ex-secretary and the illegitimate son of a retired captain&mdash;accused of
+having made false money. He had been in the hospital nearly a year. He
+was not in the least ill, but he assured the doctors that he had an
+aneurism, and he so thoroughly convinced them that he escaped both the
+hard labour and the corporal punishment to which he had been sentenced.
+He was sent a year later to T&mdash;&mdash;k, where he was attached to an asylum.
+He was a vigorous young fellow of eight-and-twenty, cunning, a
+self-confessed rogue, and something of a lawyer. He was intelligent, had
+easy manners, but was very presumptuous, and suffered from morbid
+self-esteem. Convinced that there was no one in the world a bit more
+honest or more just than himself, he did not consider himself at all
+guilty, and never kept this assurance to himself.</p>
+
+<p>This personage was the first to address me, and he questioned me with
+much curiosity. He initiated me into the ways of the hospital; and, of
+course, began by telling me that he was the son of a captain. He was
+very anxious that I should take him for a noble, or at least, for some
+one connected with the nobility.</p>
+
+<p>Soon afterwards an invalid from the Disciplinary Company came and told
+me that he knew a great many nobles who had been exiled; and, to
+convince me, he repeated to me their christian names and their
+patronymics. It was only necessary to see the face of this soldier to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
+understand that he was lying abominably. He was named Tchekounoff, and
+came to pay court to me, because he suspected me of having money. When
+he saw a packet of tea and sugar, he at once offered me his services to
+make the water boil and to get me a tea-urn. M. D. S. K&mdash;&mdash; had promised
+to send me my own by one of the prisoners who worked in the hospital,
+but Tchekounoff arranged to get me one forthwith. He got me a tin
+vessel, in which he made the water boil; and, in a word, he showed such
+extraordinary zeal, that it drew down upon him bitter laughter from one
+of the patients, a consumptive man, whose bed was just opposite mine,
+Usteantseff by name. This was the soldier condemned to the rods, who,
+from fear, had swallowed a bottle of vodka, in which he had infused
+tobacco, this bringing on lung disease.</p>
+
+<p>I have spoken of him above. He had remained silent until now, stretched
+out on his bed, and breathing with difficulty. He looked at me all the
+time with a very serious air. He did not take his eyes from Tchekounoff,
+whose civility irritated him. His extraordinary gravity rendered his
+indignation comic. At last he could stand it no longer.</p>
+
+<p>“Look at this fellow! He has found his master,” he said, stammering out
+the words with a voice strangled by weakness, for he had now not long to live.</p>
+
+<p>Tchekounoff, much annoyed, turned round.</p>
+
+<p>“Who is the fellow?” he asked, looking at Usteantseff, with contempt.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, you are a flunkey,” replied Usteantseff, as confidently as if he
+had possessed the right of calling Tchekounoff to order.</p>
+
+<p>“I a fellow?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, you are a flunkey; a true flunkey. Listen, my good friends. He
+won’t believe me. He is quite astonished, the brave fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>“What can that matter to you? You see when they don’t know how to make
+use of their hands that they are not accustomed to be without servants.
+Why should I not serve him, buffoon with a hairy snout?”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p><p>“Who has a hairy snout?”</p>
+
+<p>“You!”</p>
+
+<p>“I have a hairy snout?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; certainly you have.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a nice fellow, you are. If I have a hairy snout, you have a
+face like a crow’s egg.”</p>
+
+<p>“Hairy snout! The merciful Lord has settled your account. You would do
+much better to keep quiet and die.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why? I would rather prostrate myself before a boot than before a
+slipper. My father never prostrated himself, and never made me do so.”</p>
+
+<p>He would have continued, but an attack of coughing convulsed him for
+some minutes. He spat blood, and a cold sweat broke out on his low
+forehead. If his cough had not prevented him from speaking, he would
+have continued to declaim. One could see that from his look; but in his
+powerlessness he could only move his hand, the result of which was that
+Tchekounoff spoke no more about the matter.</p>
+
+<p>I quite understood that the consumptive patient hated me much more than
+Tchekounoff. No one would have thought of being angry with him or of
+looking down upon him by reason of the services he was rendering me, and
+the few kopecks that he tried to get from me. Every one understood that
+he did it all in order to get himself a little money.</p>
+
+<p>The Russian people are not at all susceptible on such points, and know
+perfectly well how to take them.</p>
+
+<p>I had displeased Usteantseff, as my tea had also displeased him. What
+irritated him was that, in spite of all, I was a gentleman, even with my
+chains; that I could not do without a servant, though I neither asked
+for nor desired one. In reality I tried to do everything for myself, in
+order not to appear a white-handed, effeminate person, and not to play
+the part which excited so much envy.</p>
+
+<p>I even felt a little pride on this point; but, in spite of every
+thing&mdash;I do not know why&mdash;I was always surrounded by officious,
+complaisant people, who attached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> themselves to me of their own free
+will, and who ended by governing me. It was I rather who was their
+servant; so that, whether I liked it or not, I was made to appear to
+every one a noble, who could not do without the services of others, and
+who gave himself airs. This exasperated me.</p>
+
+<p>Usteantseff was consumptive, and, therefore, irascible. The other
+patients only showed me indifference, tinged with a shade of contempt.
+They were occupied with a circumstance which now presents itself to my memory.</p>
+
+<p>I learned, as I listened to their conversation, that there was to be
+brought into the hospital that evening a convict who, at that moment,
+was receiving the rods. The prisoners were looking forward to this new
+arrival with some curiosity. They said, however, that his punishment was
+but slight&mdash;only five hundred strokes.</p>
+
+<p>I looked round. The greater number of genuine patients were, as far as I
+could observe, affected by scurvy and diseases of the eyes&mdash;both
+peculiar to this country. The others suffered from fever, lung disease,
+and other illnesses. The different illnesses were not separated; all the
+patients were together in the same room.</p>
+
+<p>I have spoken of genuine patients, for certain convicts had come in
+merely to get a little rest. The doctors admitted them from pure
+compassion, above all, if there were any vacant beds. Life in the
+guard-house and in the prison was so hard compared with that of the
+hospital, that many persons preferred to remain lying down in spite of
+the stifling atmosphere and the rules against leaving the room.</p>
+
+<p>There were even men who took pleasure in this kind of life. They
+belonged nearly all to the Disciplinary Company. I examined my new
+companions with curiosity. One of them puzzled me very much. He was
+consumptive, and was dying. His bed was a little further on than that of
+Usteantseff, and was nearly beside mine. He was named Mikhailoff. I had
+seen him in the Convict Prison two weeks before, when he was already
+seriously ill. He ought to have been under treatment long before,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> but
+he bore up against his malady with surprising courage. He did not go to
+the hospital until about the Christmas holidays, to die three weeks
+afterwards of galloping consumption. He seemed to have burned out like a
+candle. What astonished me most was the terrible change in his
+countenance. I had noticed him the very first day of my imprisonment. By
+his side was lying a soldier of the Disciplinary Company&mdash;an old man
+with a bad expression on his face, whose general appearance was disgusting.</p>
+
+<p>But I am not going to enumerate all the patients. I just remember this
+old man simply because he made an impression on me, and initiated me at
+once into certain peculiarities of the ward. He had a severe cold in the
+head, which made him sneeze at every moment, even during his sleep, as
+if firing salutes, five or six times running, while each time he called
+out, “My God, what torture!”</p>
+
+<p>Seated on his bed he stuffed his nose eagerly with snuff, which he took
+from a paper bag, in order to sneeze more strongly, and with greater
+regularity. He sneezed into a checked cotton pocket-handkerchief which
+belonged to him, and which had lost its colour through perpetual
+washing. His little nose then became wrinkled in a most peculiar manner
+with a multitude of wrinkles, and his open mouth exhibited broken teeth,
+decayed and black, and red gums moist with saliva. When he sneezed into
+his handkerchief he unfolded it and wiped it on the lining of his
+dressing-gown. His proceedings disgusted me so much that involuntarily I
+examined the dressing-gown I had just put on myself. It exhaled a most
+offensive odour, which contact with my body helped to bring out. It
+smelt of plasters and medicaments of all kinds. It seemed as though it
+had been worn by patients from time immemorial. The lining had, perhaps,
+been washed once, but I would not swear to it. Certainly, at the time I
+put it on, it was saturated with lotions, and stained by contact with
+poultices and plasters of all imaginable kinds.</p>
+
+<p>The men condemned to the rods, having undergone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> their punishment, were
+brought straight to the hospital, their backs still bleeding. As
+compresses and as poultices were placed on their wounds, the
+dressing-gown they wore over their wet shirt received and retained the droppings.</p>
+
+<p>During all the time of my hard labour I had to go to the hospital, which
+often happened, I always put on, with mistrust and abhorrence, the
+dressing-gown that was delivered to me. As soon as Tchekounoff had given
+me my tea (I will say, in parenthesis, that the water brought in in the
+morning, and not renewed throughout the day, was soon corrupted, soon
+poisoned by the fetid air), the door opened, and the soldier, who had
+just received the rods, was brought in under a double escort. I saw, for
+the first time, a man who had just been whipped. Later on many were
+brought in, and whenever this happened it caused great distress to the
+patients. These unfortunate men were received with grave composure, but
+the nature of the reception depended nearly always on the enormity of
+the crime committed, and, consequently, the number of strokes administered.</p>
+
+<p>The criminals most cruelly whipped, and who were celebrated as brigands
+of the first order, enjoyed more respect and attention than a simple
+deserter, a recruit, like the one who had just been brought in. But in
+neither case was any particular sympathy manifested, nor were any
+annoying remarks made. The unhappy man was attended to in silence, above
+all if he was incapable of attending to himself. The assistant-surgeons
+knew that they were entrusting their patients to skilful and experienced
+hands. The usual treatment consisted in applying very often to the back
+of the man who had been whipped a shirt or a piece of linen steeped in
+cold water. It was also necessary to withdraw skilfully from the wounds
+the twigs left by the rods which had been broken on the criminal’s back.
+This last operation was particularly painful to the patients. The
+extraordinary stoicism with which they supported their sufferings
+astonished me greatly.</p>
+
+<p>I have seen many convicts who had been whipped,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> and cruelly, I can tell
+you. Well, I do not remember one of them uttering a groan. Only after
+such an experience, the countenance becomes pale, decomposed, the eyes
+glitter, the look wanders, and the lips tremble so that the patient
+sometimes bites them till they bleed.</p>
+
+<p>The soldier who had just come in was twenty-three years of age; he had a
+good muscular development, and was rather a fine man, tall, well-made,
+with a bronzed skin. His back, uncovered down to the waist, had been
+seriously beaten, and his body now trembled with fever beneath the damp
+sheet with which his back was covered. For about an hour and a half he
+did nothing but walk backwards and forwards in the room. I looked at his
+face: he seemed to be thinking of nothing; his eyes had a strange
+expression, at once wild and timid; they seemed to fix themselves with
+difficulty on the various objects. I fancied I saw him looking
+attentively at my hot tea; the steam was rising from the full cup, and
+the poor devil was shivering and clattering his teeth. I invited him to
+have some; he turned towards me without saying a word, and taking up the
+cup, swallowed the tea at one gulp, without putting sugar in it. He
+tried not to look at me, and when he had finished he put the cup back in
+silence without making a sign, and then began to walk up and down as
+before. He was in too much pain to think of speaking to me or thanking
+me. As for the other prisoners, they abstained from questioning him;
+when once they had applied compresses they paid no more attention to
+him, thinking probably it would be better to leave him alone, and not to
+worry him by their questions and compassion. The soldier seemed quite
+satisfied with this view.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, night came on and the lamp was lighted; some of the patients
+possessed candlesticks of their own, but these were not numerous. In the
+evening the doctor came round, after which a non-commissioned officer on
+guard counted the patients and closed the room.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoners could not speak in too high terms of their doctors. They
+looked upon them truly as fathers and respected them. These doctors had
+always something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> pleasant to say, a kind word even for reprobates, who
+appreciated it all the more because they knew it was said in all sincerity.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, these kind words were really sincere, for no one would have thought
+of blaming the doctors had they shown themselves cross and inhuman; they
+were kind purely from humanity. They understood perfectly that a convict
+who is sick has as much right to breathe pure air as any other person,
+even though the latter might be a great personage. The convalescents
+there had a right to walk freely through the corridors to take exercise,
+and to breathe air less pestilential than that of our infirmary, which
+was close and saturated with deleterious emanations. In our ward, when
+once the doors had been closed in the evening, they had to remain closed
+throughout the night, and under no pretext was one of the inmates
+allowed to go out.</p>
+
+<p>For many years an inexplicable fact troubled me like an insoluble
+problem. I must speak of it before going on with my description. I am
+thinking of the chains which every convict is obliged to wear, however
+ill he may be; even consumptives have died beneath my eyes with their
+legs loaded with irons.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody was accustomed to it, and regarded it as an inevitable fact. I
+do not think any one, even the doctors, would have thought of demanding
+the removal of the irons from convicts who were seriously ill, not even
+from the consumptive ones. The chains, it is true, were not exceedingly
+heavy; they did not in general weigh more than eight or ten pounds,
+which is a supportable burden for a man in good health. I have been
+told, however, that after some years the legs of the convicts dry up and
+waste away. I do not know whether it is true. I am inclined to think it
+is; the weight, however light it may be (say not more than ten pounds),
+if it is fixed to the leg for ever, increases the general weight in an
+abnormal manner, and at the end of a certain time must have a disastrous
+effect on its development.</p>
+
+<p>For a convict in good health this is nothing, but the same cannot be
+said of one who is sick. For the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>convicts who were seriously ill, for
+the consumptive ones whose arms and legs dry up of themselves, this last
+straw is insupportable. Even if the medical authorities claimed
+alleviation for the consumptive patients alone, it would be an immense
+benefit, I assure you. I shall be told convicts are malefactors,
+unworthy of compassion; but ought increased severity to be shown towards
+him on whom the finger of God already weighs? No one will believe that
+the object of this aggravation is to reform the criminal. The
+consumptive prisoners are exempted from corporal punishment by the tribunal.</p>
+
+<p>There must be some mysterious, important reason for all this, but what
+it is, it is impossible to understand. No one believes&mdash;it is impossible
+to believe&mdash;that a consumptive man will run away. Who can think of such
+a thing, especially if the illness has reached a certain degree of
+intensity? It is impossible to deceive the doctors and make them mistake
+a convict in good health for one who is in a consumption, for this
+malady is one that can be recognised at the first glance. Moreover, can
+the irons prevent the convict not in good health from escaping? Not in
+the least. The irons are a degradation and shame, a physical and moral
+burden; but they would not hinder any one attempting to escape. The most
+awkward and least intelligent convict can saw through them, or break the
+rivets by hammering at them with a stone. Chains, then, are a useless
+precaution; and if the convicts wear them as a punishment, should not
+this punishment be spared to dying men?</p>
+
+<p>As I write these lines, a face stands out from my memory: that of a
+dying man, a man who died in consumption, this same Mikhailoff, whose
+bed was nearly opposite me, and who expired, I think, four days after my
+arrival at the hospital. When I spoke above of the consumptive patients,
+I was only reproducing involuntarily the sensations and ideas which
+occurred to me on the occasion of this death. I knew Mikhailoff very
+little; he was a young man of twenty-five at most, not very tall, thin,
+and with a fine face; he belonged to the “special section,” and was
+remarkable for his strange, but soft<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> and sad taciturnity; he seemed to
+have “dried up” in the convict prison, to use an expression employed by
+the convicts who had a good recollection of him. I remember he had very
+fine eyes. I really cannot tell why I think of that.</p>
+
+<p>He died at three o’clock in the afternoon on a clear, dry day. The sun
+was darting its brilliant rays obliquely through the greenish, frozen
+panes of our room. A torrent of light inundated the unhappy patient, who
+had lost all consciousness, and was several hours dying. From the early
+morning his sight became confused; he was unable to recognise those who
+approached him. The convicts would gladly have done anything to relieve
+him, for they saw he was in great suffering. His respiration was
+painful, deep, and irregular; his breast rose and fell violently, as
+though he were in want of air; he cast his blanket and his clothes far
+from him. Then he began to tear up his shirt, which seemed to him a
+terrible burden. It was taken off. Then it was frightful to see this
+immensely long body, with fleshless arms and legs, with beating breast,
+and ribs which were as clearly marked as those of a skeleton. There was
+nothing now on this skeleton but a cross and the irons, from which his
+dried-up legs might easily have freed themselves. A quarter of an hour
+before his death everything was silent in our ward, and the inmates
+spoke only in whispers. The convicts walked on the tips of their toes.
+From time to time they exchanged remarks on other subjects, and cast a
+furtive glance at the dying man. The rattling in his throat grew more
+and more painful. At last, with a trembling hand, he felt the cross on
+his breast and endeavoured to tear it off; it was also weighing upon
+him, suffocating him. It was taken off. Ten minutes afterwards, he died.
+Some one then knocked at the door in order to give notice to the
+sentinel; the warder entered, looked at the dead man with a vacant air,
+and went away to get the assistant-surgeon. The assistant-surgeon was a
+good fellow enough, but a little too much occupied with his personal
+appearance, otherwise very agreeable; he soon arrived, went up to the
+corpse with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> long strides which made a noise in the silent ward, and
+felt the dead man’s pulse with an unconcerned air which seemed to have
+been put on for the occasion. He then made a vague gesture with his hand
+and went out.</p>
+
+<p>Information was given at the guard-house; for the criminal was an
+important one (he belonged to the special section), and in order to
+register his death it was necessary to go through some formalities.
+While we were waiting for the hospital guard to come, one of the
+prisoners said in a whisper, “The eyes of the defunct might as well be
+closed.” Another one profited by this remark, and approaching Mikhailoff
+in silence, closed his eyes; then perceiving on the pillow the cross
+which had been taken from his neck, he took it and looked at it, put it
+down, and crossed himself. The face of the dead man was becoming
+ossified; a ray of white light was playing on the surface and
+illuminated two rows of white, good teeth which sparkled between his
+thin lips, glued to the gums by the mouth.</p>
+
+<p>The non-commissioned officer on guard arrived at last, musket on
+shoulder, helmet on head, accompanied by two soldiers; he approached the
+corpse, slackening his pace with an air of uncertainty. Then he examined
+with a side glance the silent prisoners, who looked at him with a sombre
+expression. At one step from the dead man he stopped short, as if
+suddenly nailed to the spot; the naked, dried-up body, loaded with
+irons, had impressed him; he undid his chin-strap, removed his helmet
+(which was not at all necessary for him to do), and made the sign of the
+cross; he had a gray head, the head of a soldier who had seen much
+service. I remember that by his side stood Tchekounoff, an old man who
+was also gray. He looked all the time at the non-commissioned officer,
+and followed all his movements with strange attention. They glanced
+across, and I saw that Tchekounoff also trembled. He bit and closed his
+teeth, and said to the non-commissioned officer, as if involuntarily, at
+the same time nodding his head in the direction of the dead man, “He had
+a mother, too!”</p>
+
+<p>These words went to my heart. Why had he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> them? and how did this
+idea occur to him? The corpse was raised with the mattress; the straw
+creaked, the chains dragged along the ground with a sharp ring; they
+were taken up and the body was carried out. Suddenly all spoke once more
+in a loud voice. The non-commissioned officer in the corridor could well
+be heard crying out to some one to go for the blacksmith. It was
+necessary to take the dead man’s irons off. But I have digressed from my subject.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER II.</span> <span class="smaller">THE HOSPITAL (<i>continued</i>).</span></h3>
+
+<p>The doctors used to visit the wards in the morning, towards eleven
+o’clock; they appeared all together, forming a procession, which was
+headed by the chief physician. An hour and a half before, the ordinary
+physician had made his round. He was a quiet young man, always affable
+and kind, much liked by the prisoners, and thoroughly versed in his art;
+they only found one fault with him, that he was “too soft.” He was, in
+fact, by no means communicative, he seemed confused in our presence,
+blushed sometimes, and changed the quantity of food at the first
+representation of the patient. I think he would have consented to give
+them any medicine they desired: in other respects an excellent young man.</p>
+
+<p>A doctor in Russia often enjoys the affection and respect of the people,
+and with reason, as far as I have been able to see. I know that my words
+would seem a paradox, above all when the mistrust of this same people
+for foreign drugs and foreign doctors is taken into account; in fact,
+they prefer, even when suffering from a serious illness, to address
+themselves year after year to a witch, or employ old women’s remedies
+(which, however, ought not to be despised), rather than consult a
+doctor, or go into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> hospital. In truth, these prejudices may be
+above all attributed to causes which have nothing to do with medicine,
+namely, the mistrust of the people for anything which bears an official
+and administrative character; nor must it be forgotten that the common
+people are frightened and prejudiced in regard to the hospitals, by the
+stories, often absurd, of fantastic horrors said to take place within
+them. Perhaps, however, these stories have a basis of truth.</p>
+
+<p>But what repels them above all, is the Germanism of the hospitals, the
+idea that during their illness they will be attended to by foreigners,
+the severity of the diet, the heartlessness of the surgeons and doctors,
+the dissection and autopsy of the bodies, etc. The common people
+reflect, moreover, that they will be attended by nobles&mdash;for in their
+view the doctors belong to the nobility. Once they have made
+acquaintance with them (there are exceptions, no doubt, but they are
+rare), their fears vanish. This success must be attributed to our
+doctors, especially the young ones, who, for the most part, know how to
+gain the respect and affection of the people. I speak now of what I
+myself have seen and experienced in many cases and in different parts,
+and I think matters are the same everywhere. In some distant localities
+the doctors receive presents, make profit out of their hospitals, and
+neglect the patients; sometimes they forget even their art. This
+happens, no doubt; but I am speaking of the majority, inspired as it is
+by that spirit, that generous tendency which is regenerating the medical
+art. As for the apostates, the wolves in the sheep-fold, they may excuse
+themselves, and cast the blame on the circumstances amid which they
+live; but they are absurd, inexcusable, especially if they are no longer
+humane; it is precisely the humanity, affability, and brotherly
+compassion of the doctor which prove most efficacious remedies for the
+patients. It is time to stop these apathetic lamentations on the
+circumstances surrounding us. There may be truth in the lament, but a
+cunning rogue who knows how to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> care of himself never fails to
+blame the circumstances around him when he wishes his faults to be
+forgiven&mdash;above all, if he writes or speaks with eloquence.</p>
+
+<p>I have again departed from my subject; I wish only to say that the
+common people mistrust and dislike officialism and the Government
+doctors, rather than the doctors themselves; but on personal
+acquaintance many prejudices disappear.</p>
+
+<p>Our doctor generally stopped before the bed of each patient, questioned
+him seriously and attentively, then prescribed the remedies, potions,
+etc. He sometimes noticed that the pretended invalid was not ill at all;
+he had come to take rest after his hard work, and to sleep on a mattress
+in a warm room, far preferable to the naked planks in a damp guard-house
+among a mass of pale, broken-down men, waiting for their trial. In
+Russia the prisoners in the House of Detention are almost always broken
+down, which shows that their moral and material condition is worse even
+than those of the convicts.</p>
+
+<p>In cases of feigned sickness our doctor would describe the patient as
+suffering from <i>febris catharalis</i>, and sometimes allowed him to remain
+a week in the hospital. Every one laughed at this <i>febris catharalis</i>,
+for it was known to be a formula agreed upon between the doctor and the
+patient to indicate no malady at all. Often the robust invalid who
+abused the doctor’s compassion remained in the hospital until he was
+turned out by force. Our doctor was worth seeing then. Confused by the
+prisoner’s obstinacy, he did not like to tell him plainly that he was
+cured and offer him his leaving ticket, although he had the right to
+send him away without the least explanation on writing the words,
+<i>sanat. est</i>. First he would hint to him that it was time to go, and
+then would beg him to leave.</p>
+
+<p>“You must go, you know you are cured now, and we have no place for you,
+we are very much cramped here, etc.”</p>
+
+<p>At last, ashamed to remain any longer, the patient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> would consent to go.
+The physician-in-chief, although compassionate and just (the patients
+were much attached to him), was incomparably more severe and more
+decided than our ordinary physician. In certain cases he showed
+merciless severity which only gained for him the respect of the
+convicts. He always came into the room accompanied by all the doctors of
+the hospital, when his assistants visited all the beds and diagnosed on
+each particular case; he stopped longest at the beds of those who were
+seriously ill, and had an encouraging word for them. He never sent back
+the convicts who arrived with <i>febris catharalis</i>; but if one of them
+was determined to remain in the hospital, he certified that the man was
+cured. “Come,” he would say, “you have had your rest; now go, you must
+not take liberties.”</p>
+
+<p>Those who insisted upon remaining, were, above all, the convicts who
+were worn out by field labour, performed during the great summer heat,
+or prisoners who had been sentenced to be whipped. I remember that they
+were obliged to be particularly severe, merely in order to get rid of
+one of them. He had come to be cured of some disease of the eyes, which
+were red all over; he complained of suffering a sharp pain in the
+eyelids. He was incurable; plasters, blisters, leeches, nothing did him
+any good; and the diseased organ remained in the same condition.</p>
+
+<p>Then it occurred to the doctors that the illness was feigned, for the
+inflammation neither became worse nor better; and they soon understood
+that a comedy was being played, although the patient would not admit it.
+He was a fine young fellow, not ill-looking, though he produced a
+disagreeable impression upon all his companions; he was suspicious,
+sombre, full of dissimulation, and never looked any one straight in the
+face; he also kept himself apart as if he mistrusted us all. I remember
+that many persons were afraid that he would do some one harm.</p>
+
+<p>When he was a soldier he had committed some small theft, he had been
+arrested and condemned to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> receive a thousand strokes, and afterwards to
+pass into a disciplinary company.</p>
+
+<p>To put off the moment of punishment, the prisoners, as I have already
+said, will do incredible things. On the eve of the fatal day, they will
+stick a knife into one of their chiefs, or into a comrade, in order that
+they may be tried again for this new offence, which will delay their
+punishment for a month or two. It matters little to them that their
+punishment be doubled or tripled, if they can escape this time. What
+they desire is to put off temporarily the terrible minute at whatever
+cost, so utterly does their heart fail them.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the patients thought the man with the sore eyes ought to be
+watched, lest in his despair he should assassinate some one during the
+night; but no precaution was taken, not even by those who slept next to
+him. It was remarked, however, that he rubbed his eyes with plaster from
+the wall, and with something else besides, in order that they might
+appear red when the doctor came round; at last the doctor-in-chief
+threatened to cure him by-means of a seton.</p>
+
+<p>When the malady resists all ordinary treatment, the doctors determine to
+try some heroic, however painful, remedy. But the poor devil did not
+wish to get well, he was either too obstinate or too cowardly; for,
+however painful the proposed operation may be, it cannot be compared to
+the punishment of the rods.</p>
+
+<p>The operation consists in seizing the patient by the nape of the neck,
+taking up the skin, drawing it back as much as possible, and making in
+it a double incision, through which is passed a skein of cotton about as
+thick as the finger. Every day at a fixed hour this skein is pulled
+backwards and forwards in order that the wound may continually suppurate
+and may not heal; the poor devil endured this torture which caused him
+horrible suffering, for several days.</p>
+
+<p>At last he consented to quit the hospital. In less than a day his eyes
+became quite well; and, as soon as his neck was healed, he was sent to
+the guard-house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> which he left next day to receive the first thousand
+strokes.</p>
+
+<p>Painful is the minute which precedes such a punishment; so painful, that
+perhaps I am wrong in taxing with cowardice those convicts who fear it.</p>
+
+<p>It must be terrible; for the convicts to risk a double or triple
+punishment, merely to postpone it. I have spoken, however, of convicts
+who have thus wished to quit the hospital before the wounds caused by
+the first part of the flogging were healed, in order to receive the last
+part and make an end of it. For life in a guard-room is certainly worse
+than in a convict prison.</p>
+
+<p>The habit of receiving floggings helps in some cases to give intrepidity
+and decision to convicts. Those who have been often flogged, are
+hardened both in body and mind, and have at last looked upon such a
+punishment as merely a disagreeable incident no longer to be feared.</p>
+
+<p>One of our convicts of the special section was a converted Tartar, who
+was named Alexander, or Alexandrina, as they called him in fun at the
+convict prison; who told me how he had received 4,000 strokes. He never
+spoke of this punishment except with amusement and laughter; but he
+swore very seriously that if he had not been brought up in his horde,
+from his most tender infancy, on whipping and flogging&mdash;and as the scars
+which covered his back, and which refused to disappear, were there to
+testify&mdash;he would never have been able to support those 4,000 strokes.
+He blessed the education of sticks that he had received.</p>
+
+<p>“I was beaten for the least thing, Alexander Petrovitch,” he said one
+evening, when we were sitting down before the fire. “I was beaten
+without reason for fifteen years, as long as I can ever remember, and
+several times a day. Any one who liked beat me; so that, at last, it
+made no impression upon me.”</p>
+
+<p>I do not know how it was he became a soldier, for perhaps he lied, and
+had always been a deserter and vagabond. But I remember his telling me
+one day of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> the fright he was seized with when he was condemned to
+receive 4,000 strokes for having killed one of his officers.</p>
+
+<p>“I know that they will punish me severely,” he said to himself, “that,
+accustomed as I am to be whipped, I shall perhaps die on the spot. The
+devil! 4,000 strokes is not a trifle; and then all my officers were in a
+fearful temper with me on account of this affair. I knew well that it
+would not be ‘rose-water.’ I even believed that I should die under the
+rods. I determined to get baptized. I said to myself, that perhaps they
+would not then flog me, at any rate it was worth trying, my comrades had
+told me that it would be of no good. But,’ I said to myself, ‘who knows?
+perhaps they will pardon me, they will have more compassion on a
+Christian than on a Mohammedan. They baptized me, and give me the name
+of Alexander; but, in spite of that, I had to take my flogging; they did
+not let me off a single stroke; I was, however, very savage. ‘Wait a
+bit,’ I said to myself, ‘and I will take you all in’; and, would you
+believe it, Alexander? I did take them all in. I knew how to look like a
+dead man; not that I appeared altogether without life, but I looked as
+if I were on the point of breathing my last. They led me in front of the
+battalion to receive my first thousand; my skin was burning, I began to
+howl. They gave me my second thousand, and I said to myself, ‘It’s all
+over now.’ I had lost my head, my legs seemed broken, so I fell to the
+ground, with the eyes of a dead man. My face blue, my mouth full of
+froth, I no longer breathed. When the doctor came he said I was on the
+point of death. I was carried to the hospital, and at once returned to
+life. Twice again they flogged me. What a rage they were in! I took them
+all in on each occasion. I received my third thousand, and died again.
+On my word, when they gave me the last thousand each stroke ought to
+have counted for three, it was like a knife in my heart. Oh, how they
+did beat me! They were so severe with me. Oh, that cursed fourth
+thousand! it was well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> worth three firsts put together. If I had
+pretended to be dead when I had still 200 to receive, I think they would
+have finished me; but they did not get the better of me. I had them
+again and again, for they always thought it was all over with me, and
+how could they have thought otherwise? The doctor was sure of it. But as
+for the 200 which I had still to receive, they might have struck as hard
+as they liked&mdash;they were worth 2,000; I only laughed at them. Why?
+Because, when I was a youngster, I had grown up under the whip. Well, I
+am well, and alive now; but I have been beaten in the course of my
+life,” he repeated, with a passive air, as he brought his story to an
+end. As he did so, he seemed to recollect and count anew the blows he had received.</p>
+
+<p>After a brief silence, he said: “I cannot count them, nor can any one
+else; there are not figures enough.” He looked at me, and burst into a
+laugh, so simple and natural, that I could not help smiling in return.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know, Alexander Petrovitch, when I dream at night, I always
+dream that I am being flogged. I dream of nothing else.” He, in fact,
+talked in his sleep, and woke up the other prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you yelling about, you demon?” they would say to him.</p>
+
+<p>This strong, robust fellow, short in stature, about forty-four years of
+age, active, good-looking, lived on good terms with every one, though he
+was very fond of taking what did not belong to him, and afterwards got
+beaten for it. But each of our convicts who stole got beaten for their thefts.</p>
+
+<p>I will add to these remarks that I was always surprised at the
+extraordinary good-nature, the absence of rancour with which these
+unhappy men spoke of their punishment, and of the chiefs superintending
+it. In these stories, which often gave me palpitation of the heart, not
+a shadow of hatred or rancour could be detected; they laughed at what
+they had suffered like children.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p><p>It was not the same, however, with M&mdash;t&ccedil;ki, when he told me of his
+punishment. As he was not a noble, he had been sentenced to be flogged.
+He had never spoken to me of it, and when I asked him if it were true,
+he replied affirmatively in two brief words, but with evident suffering,
+and without looking at me. He at the same time turned red, and when he
+raised his eyes, I saw flames burning in them, while his lips trembled
+with indignation. I felt that he would not forget, that he could never
+forget this page of his history. Our companions generally on the other
+hand (though theirs might have been exceptions), looked upon their
+adventures with quite another eye. It is impossible, I sometimes
+thought, that they can be conscious of their guilt, and not acknowledge
+the justice of their punishment; above all, when their offences were
+against their companions and not against some chief. The greater part of
+them did not acknowledge their guilt. I have already said that I never
+observed in them the least remorse, even when the crime had been
+committed against people of their own station. As for the crimes
+committed against a chief, they did not even speak of them. It seems to
+me that for those cases, they had special views of their own. They
+looked upon them as accidents caused by destiny, by fatality, into which
+they had fallen unconsciously as the result of some extraordinary
+impulse. The convict always justifies the crimes he has committed
+against his chief; he does not trouble himself about the matter. But he
+admits that the chief cannot share his view, and consequently, that he
+must naturally be punished, and then he will be quits with him.</p>
+
+<p>The struggle between the administration and the prisoner is of the
+severest character on both sides. What in a great measure justifies the
+criminal in his own eyes, is his conviction that the people among whom
+he has been born and has lived will acquit him. He is certain that the
+common people will not look upon him as a lost man, unless, indeed, his
+crime has bean committed against persons of his own class, against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> his
+brethren. He is quite calm about that; supported by his conscience, he
+will not lose his moral tranquillity, and that is the principal thing.
+He feels himself on firm ground, and has no particular hatred for the
+knout, when once it has been administered to him. He knows that it was
+inevitable, and consoles himself by thinking that he was neither the
+first nor the last to receive it. Does the soldier detest the Turk whom
+he fights? Not in the least! yet he sabres him, hacks him to pieces, kills him.</p>
+
+<p>It must not be thought, moreover, that all of these stories were told
+with indifference and in cold blood.</p>
+
+<p>When the name of Jerebiatnikof was mentioned, it was always with
+indignation. I made the acquaintance of this officer during my first
+stay in the hospital&mdash;only by the convicts’ stories, it must be
+understood. I afterwards saw him one day when he was commanding the
+guard at the convict prison; he was about thirty years old, very stout
+and very strong, with red cheeks hanging down on each side, white teeth,
+and a formidable laugh. One could see in a moment that he was in no way
+given to reflection. He took the greatest pleasure in whipping and
+flogging, when he had to superintend the punishment. I must hasten to
+say that the other officers looked upon Jerebiatnikof as a monster, and
+the convicts did the same. This was in the good old time, which is not
+very very far off, but in which it is already difficult to believe
+executioners delighted in their office. But, generally speaking, the
+strokes were administered without enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>This lieutenant was an exception, and he took a real pleasure and
+delight in punishment. He had a passion for it, and liked it for its own
+sake; he looked to this art for unnatural delights in order to tickle
+and excite his base soul. A prisoner is conducted to the place of
+punishment. Jerebiatnikof is the officer superintending the execution.
+Arranging a long line of soldiers, armed with heavy rods, he walks along
+the front with a satisfied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> air, and encourages each one to do his duty,
+conscientiously or otherwise&mdash;the soldiers know before what “otherwise”
+means. The criminal is brought out. If he does not yet know
+Jerebiatnikof, if he is not in the secret of the mystery, the Lieutenant
+plays him the following trick&mdash;one of the inventions of Jerebiatnikof,
+very ingenious in this style of thing. The prisoner, whose back has been
+bared, and whom the non-commissioned officers have fastened to the butt
+end of a musket in order to drag him afterwards through the whole length
+of the “Green Street.” He begs the officer in charge, with a plaintive
+and tearful voice, not to have him struck too hard, not to double the
+punishment by any undue severity.</p>
+
+<p>“Your nobility!” cries the unhappy wretch, “have pity on me, treat me
+fraternally, so that I may pray God throughout my life for you. Do not
+destroy me, show mercy!”</p>
+
+<p>Jerebiatnikof had waited for this. He now suspended the execution, and
+engaged the prisoner in conversation, speaking to him in a sentimental,
+compassionate tone.</p>
+
+<p>“But, my good fellow,” he would say, “what am I to do? It is the law
+that punishes you&mdash;it is the law.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your nobility! You can make it everything; have pity upon me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you really think that I have no pity on you? Do you think it is any
+pleasure to me to see you whipped? I am a man, am I not? Answer me, am I not a man?”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, your nobility. We know that the officers are our fathers and
+we their children. Be to me a venerable father,” the prisoner would cry,
+seeing some possibility of escaping punishment.</p>
+
+<p>“Then, my friend, judge for yourself. You have a brain to think with,
+you know I am human, I ought to take compassion on you, sinner though you be.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your nobility says the absolute truth.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p><p>“Yes, I ought to be merciful to you however guilty you may be. But it
+is not I who punish you, it is the law. I serve God and my country, and
+consequently I commit a grave sin if I mitigate the punishment fixed by
+the law. Only think of that!”</p>
+
+<p>“Your nobility!”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, what am I to do? Only think, I know that I am doing wrong, but it
+shall be as you wish; I will have mercy upon you, you shall be punished
+lightly. But if I really do this on one occasion, if I show mercy, if I
+punish you lightly, you will think that at another time I shall be
+merciful, and you will recommence your follies. What do you say to
+that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Your nobility, preserve me! Before the throne of the heavenly Creator, I&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no; you swear that you will behave yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“May the Lord cause me to die this moment and in the next world.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do not swear in that way, it is a sin; I shall believe you if you will
+give me your word.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your nobility.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, listen, I will have mercy on you on account of your tears, your
+orphan’s tears, for you are an orphan, are you not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Orphan on both sides, your nobility, I am alone in the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, on account of your orphan’s tears I have pity on you,” he added,
+in a voice so full of emotion, that the prisoner could not sufficiently
+thank God for having sent him so good an officer.</p>
+
+<p>The procession went out, the drum rolled, the soldiers brandished their
+arms. “Flog him,” Jerebiatnikof would roar from the bottom of his lungs,
+“flog him! burn him! skin him alive! Harder! harder! Give it harder to
+this orphan! Give it him, the rogue.”</p>
+
+<p>The soldiers lay on the strokes with all their might on the back of the
+unhappy wretch, whose eyes dart fire, and who howls while Jerebiatnikof
+runs after him in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> front of the line, holding his sides with
+laughter&mdash;he puffs and blows so that he can scarcely hold himself
+upright. He is happy. He thinks it droll. From time to time his
+formidable resonant laugh is heard, as he keeps on repeating, “Flog him!
+thrash him! this brigand! this orphan!”</p>
+
+<p>He had composed variation on this motive. The prisoner has been brought
+to undergo his punishment. He begs the lieutenant to have pity on him.
+This time Jerebiatnikof does not play the hypocrite; he is frank with the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>“Look, my dear fellow, I will punish you as you deserve, but I can show
+you one act of mercy. I will not attach you to the butt end of the
+musket, you shall go along in a new style, you have only to run as hard
+as you can along the front, each rod will strike you as a matter of
+course, but it will be over sooner. What do you say to that, will you try?”</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner, who has listened, full of mistrust and doubt, says to
+himself: Perhaps this way will not be so bad as the other. If I run with
+all my might, it will not last quite so long, and perhaps all the rods
+will not touch me.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, your nobility, I consent.”</p>
+
+<p>“I also consent. Come, mind your business,” cries the lieutenant to the
+soldiers. He knew beforehand that not one rod would spare the back of
+the unfortunate wretch; the soldier who failed to hit him would know
+what to expect.</p>
+
+<p>The convict tries to run along the “Green Street,” but he does not go
+beyond fifteen men before the rods rain upon his poor spine like hail;
+so that the unfortunate man shrieks out, and falls as if he had been
+struck by a bullet.</p>
+
+<p>“No, your nobility, I prefer to be flogged in the ordinary way,” he
+says, managing to get up, pale and frightened. While Jerebiatnikof, who
+knew beforehand how this affair would end, held his sides and burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p><p>But I cannot relate all the diversions invented by him, and all that
+was told about him.</p>
+
+<p>My companions also spoke of a Lieutenant Smekaloff, who fulfilled the
+functions of Commandant before the arrival of our present Major. They
+spoke of Jerebiatnikof with indifference, without hatred, but also
+without exalting his high achievements. They did not praise him, they
+simply despised him, whilst at the name of Smekaloff the whole prison
+burst into a chorus of laudation. The Lieutenant was by no means fond of
+administering the rods; there was nothing in him of Jerebiatnikof’s
+disposition. How did it happen that the convicts remembered his
+punishments, severe as they were, with sweet satisfaction. How did he
+manage to please them. How did he gain the popularity he certainly enjoyed?</p>
+
+<p>Our companions, like Russian people in general, were ready to forget
+their tortures if a kind word was said to them; I speak of the effect
+itself without analysing or examining it. It is not difficult, then, to
+gain the affections of such a people and become popular. Lieutenant
+Smekaloff had gained such popularity, and when the punishments he had
+directed were spoken of, they were always mentioned with a certain sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>“He was as kind as a father,” the convicts would sometimes say, as, with
+a sigh, they compared him with their present chief, the Major who had replaced him.</p>
+
+<p>He was a simple-minded man, and kind in a manner. There are chiefs who
+are naturally kind and merciful, but who are not at all liked and are
+laughed at; whereas, Smekaloff had so managed that all the prisoners had
+a special regard for him; this was due to innate qualities, which those
+who possess them do not understand. Strange thing! There are men who are
+far from being kind, and who have yet the talent of making themselves
+popular; they do not despise the people who are beneath their rule.
+That, I think, is the cause of this popularity. They do not give
+themselves lordly airs; they have no feeling of “caste;” they have a
+certain odour of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> people; they are men of birth, and the people at
+once sniff it. They will do anything for such men; they will gladly
+change the mildest and most humane man for a very severe chief, if the
+latter possesses this sort of odour, and especially if the man is also
+genial in his way. Oh! then he is beyond price.</p>
+
+<p>Lieutenant Smekaloff, as I have said, ordered sometimes very severe
+punishments. But he seemed to inflict them in such a way, that the
+prisoners felt no rancour against him. On the contrary, they recalled
+his whipping affairs with laughter; he did not punish frequently, for he
+had no artistic imagination. He had invented only one practical joke, a
+single one which amused him for nearly a year in our convict prison.
+This joke was dear to him, probably, because it was his only one, and it
+was not without humour.</p>
+
+<p>Smekaloff assisted himself at the executions, joking all the time, and
+laughing at the prisoner as he questioned him about the most
+out-of-the-way things, such, for instance, as his private affairs. He
+did this without any bad motive, and simply because he really wished to
+know something about the man’s affairs. A chair was brought to him,
+together with the rods which were to be used for chastising the
+prisoner. The Lieutenant sat down and lighted his long pipe; the
+prisoner implored him.</p>
+
+<p>“No, comrade, lie down. What is the matter with you?”</p>
+
+<p>The convict stretched himself on the ground with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>“Can you read fluently?”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course, your nobility; I am baptized, and I was taught to read when
+I was a child.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then read this.”</p>
+
+<p>The convict knows beforehand what he is to read, and knows how the
+reading will end, because this joke has been repeated more than thirty
+times; but Smekaloff knows also that the convict is not his dupe any
+more than the soldier who now holds the rods suspended over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> the back of
+the unhappy victim. The convict begins to read; the soldiers armed with
+the rods await motionless. Smekaloff ceases even to smoke, raises his
+hand, and waits for a word fixed upon beforehand. At the word, which
+from some double meaning might be interpreted as the order to start, the
+Lieutenant raises his hand, and the flogging begins. The officer bursts
+into a laugh, and the soldiers around him also laugh; the man who is
+whipping laughs, and the man who is being whipped also.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER III.</span> <span class="smaller">THE HOSPITAL<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> (<i>continued</i>).</span></h3>
+
+<p>I have spoken here of punishments and of those who have administered
+them, because I got a very clear idea on the subject during my stay in
+the hospital. Until then I knew of them only by general report. In our
+room were confined all the prisoners from the battalion who were to
+receive the spitzruten [rods], as well as those from the military
+establishment in our town and in the district surrounding it.</p>
+
+<p>During my first few days I looked at all that surrounded me with such
+greedy eyes that these strange manners, these men who had just been
+flogged or were about to be flogged, left upon me a terrible impression.
+I was agitated, frightened.</p>
+
+<p>As I listened to the conversation or narratives of the other prisoners
+on this subject, I put to myself questions which I endeavoured in vain
+to solve. I wished to know all the degrees of the sentences; the
+punishments, and their shades; and to learn the opinion of the convicts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>
+themselves. I tried to represent to myself the psychological condition
+of the men flogged.</p>
+
+<p>It rarely happened, as I have already said, that the prisoner approached
+the fatal moment in cold blood, even if he had been beaten several times
+before. The condemned man experiences a fear which is very terrible, but
+purely physical&mdash;an unconscious fear which upsets his moral nature.</p>
+
+<p>During my several years’ stay in the convict prison I was able to study
+at leisure the prisoners who wished to leave the hospital, where they
+had remained some time to have their damaged backs cured before
+receiving the second half of their punishment. This interruption in the
+punishment is always called for by the doctor who assists at the execution.</p>
+
+<p>If the number of strokes to be received is too great for them to be
+administered all at once, it is divided according to advice given by the
+doctor on the spot. It is for him to see if the prisoner is in a
+condition to undergo the whole of his punishment, or if his life is in danger.</p>
+
+<p>Five hundred, one thousand, and even one thousand five hundred strokes
+with the stick are administered at once. But if it is two or three
+thousand the punishment is divided into two or three doses.</p>
+
+<p>Those whose back had been cured after the first administration, and who
+are to undergo a second, were sad, sombre and silent the day they went
+out, and the evening before. They were almost in a state of torpor. They
+engaged in no conversation, and remained perfectly silent.</p>
+
+<p>It is worthy of remark that the prisoners avoid addressing those who are
+about to be punished, and, above all, never make any allusion to the
+subject, neither in consolation nor in superfluous words. No attention
+whatever is paid to them, which is certainly the best thing for the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>There are exceptions, however.</p>
+
+<p>The convict Orloff, of whom I have already spoken,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> was sorry that his
+back did not get more quickly cured, for he was anxious to get his
+leave-ticket in order that he might take the rest of his flogging, and
+then be assigned to a convoy of prisoners, when he meant to escape
+during the journey. He had a passionate, ardent nature, and with only
+that object in view.</p>
+
+<p>A cunning rascal, he seemed very pleased when he first came; but he was
+in a state of abnormal excitement, though he endeavoured to conceal it.
+He had been afraid of being left on the ground, and dying before half of
+his punishment had been undergone. He had heard steps taken in his case,
+by the authorities, when he was still being tried, and he thought he
+could not survive the punishment. But when he had received his first
+dose he recovered his courage.</p>
+
+<p>When he came to the hospital I had never seen such wounds as his; but he
+was in the best spirits. He now hoped to be able to live. The stories
+which had reached him were untrue, or the execution would not have been interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>He now began to think of a long Siberian journey, possibly of escaping
+to liberty, fields, and forests.</p>
+
+<p>Two days after he had left the hospital he came back to die&mdash;on the very
+couch which he had occupied during my stay there.</p>
+
+<p>He had been unable to support the second half of his punishment; but I
+have already spoken of this man.</p>
+
+<p>All the prisoners without exception, even the most pusillanimous, even
+those who were beforehand tormented night and day, supported it
+courageously when it came. I scarcely ever heard groans during the night
+following the execution; our people, as a rule, knew how to endure pain.</p>
+
+<p>I questioned my companion often in reference to this pain, that I might
+know to what kind of suffering it might be compared. It was no idle
+curiosity which urged me. I repeat that I was moved and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> frightened; but
+it was in vain, I could get no satisfactory reply.</p>
+
+<p>“It burns like fire!” was the general answer; they all said the same thing.</p>
+
+<p>First I tried to question M&mdash;tski. “It burns like fire! like hell! It
+seems as if one’s back were in a furnace.”</p>
+
+<p>I made one day a strange observation, which may or may not have been
+well founded, although the opinion of the convicts themselves confirms
+my views; namely, that the rods are the most terrible punishment in use among us.</p>
+
+<p>At first it seems absurd, impossible, yet five hundred strokes of the
+rods, four hundred even, are enough to kill a man. Beyond five hundred
+death is almost certain; the most robust man will be unable to support a
+thousand rods, whereas five hundred sticks are endured without much
+inconvenience, and without the least risk in the world of losing one’s
+life. A man of ordinary build supports a thousand sticks without danger;
+even two thousand sticks will not kill a man of ordinary strength and
+constitution. All the convicts declared that rods were worse than sticks or ramrods.</p>
+
+<p>“Rods hurt more and torture more!” they said.</p>
+
+<p>They must torture more than sticks, that is certain, that is evident;
+for they irritate much more forcibly the nervous system, which they
+excite beyond measure. I do not know whether any person still exists,
+but such did a short time ago, to whom the whipping of a victim procured
+a delight which recalls the Marquis de Sade and the Marchioness
+Brinvilliers. I think this delight must consist in the sinking of the
+heart, and that these nobles must have experienced pain and delight at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>There are people who, like tigers, are greedy for blood. Those who have
+possessed unlimited power over the flesh, blood, and soul of their
+fellow-creatures, of their brethren according to the law of Christ,
+those who have possessed this power and who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> have been able to degrade
+with a supreme degradation, another being made in the image of God;
+these men are incapable of resisting their desires and their thirst for
+sensations. Tyranny is a habit capable of being developed, and at last
+becomes a disease. I declare that the best man in the world can become
+hardened and brutified to such a point, that nothing will distinguish
+him from a wild beast. Blood and power intoxicate; they aid the
+development of callousness and debauchery; the mind then becomes capable
+of the most abnormal cruelty in the form of pleasure; the man and the
+citizen disappear for ever in the tyrant; and then a return to human
+dignity, repentance, moral resurrection, becomes almost impossible.</p>
+
+<p>That the possibility of such license has a contagious effect on the
+whole of society there is no doubt. A society which looks upon such
+things with an indifferent eye, is already infected to the marrow. In a
+word, the right granted to a man to inflict corporal punishment on his
+fellow-men, is one of the plague-spots of our society. It is the means
+of annihilating all civic spirit. Such a right contains in germ the
+elements of inevitable, imminent decomposition.</p>
+
+<p>Society despises an executioner by trade, but not a lordly executioner.
+Every manufacturer, every master of works, must feel an irritating
+pleasure when he reflects that the workman he has beneath his orders is
+dependent upon him with the whole of his family. A generation does not,
+I am sure, extirpate so quickly what is hereditary in it. A man cannot
+renounce what is in his blood, what has been transmitted to him with his
+mother’s milk; these revolutions are not accomplished so quickly. It is
+not enough to confess one’s fault. That is very little! Very little
+indeed! It must be rooted out, and that is not done so quickly.</p>
+
+<p>I have spoken of the executioners. The instincts of an executioner are
+in germ in nearly every one of our contemporaries; but the animal
+instincts of the man have not developed themselves in a uniform manner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>
+When they stifle all other faculties, the man becomes a hideous monster.</p>
+
+<p>There are two kinds of executioners, those who of their own will are
+executioners and those who are executioners by duty, by reason of
+office. He who, by his own will, is an executioner, is in all respects
+below the salaried executioner, whom, however, the people look upon with
+repugnance, and who inspires them with disgust, with instinctive
+mystical fear. Whence comes this almost superstitious horror for the
+latter, when one is only indifferent and indulgent to the former?</p>
+
+<p>I know strange examples of honourable men, kind, esteemed by all their
+friends, who found it necessary that a culprit should be whipped until
+he would implore and beg for mercy; it seemed to them a natural thing, a
+thing recognised as indispensable. If the victim did not choose to cry
+out, his executioner, whom in other respects I should consider a good
+man, looked upon it as a personal offence; he meant, in the first
+instance, to inflict only a light punishment, but directly he failed to
+hear the habitual supplications, “Your nobility!” “Have mercy!” “Be a
+father to me!” “Let me thank God all my life!” he became furious, and
+ordered that fifty more blows should be administered, hoping thus, at
+last, to obtain the necessary cries and supplications; and at last they came.</p>
+
+<p>“Impossible! he is too insolent,” cried the man in question, very seriously.</p>
+
+<p>As for the executioner by office, he is a convict who has been chosen
+for this function. He passes an apprenticeship with an old hand, and as
+soon as he knows his trade remains in the convict prison, where he lives
+by himself. He has a room, which he shares with no one. Sometimes,
+indeed, he has a separate establishment, but he is always under guard. A
+man is not a machine. Although he whips by virtue of his office, he
+sometimes becomes furious, and beats with a certain pleasure.
+Notwithstanding he has no hatred for his victim, a desire to show his
+skill in the art of whipping may sharpen his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> vanity. He works as an
+artist; he knows well that he is a reprobate, and that he excites
+everywhere superstitious dread. It is impossible that this should
+exercise no influence upon him, and not irritate his brutal instincts.</p>
+
+<p>Even little children say that this man has neither father nor mother.
+Strange thing!</p>
+
+<p>All the executioners I have known were intelligent men, possessing a
+certain degree of conceit. This conceit became developed in them through
+the contempt which they everywhere met with, and was strengthened,
+perhaps, by the consciousness of the fear with which they inspired their
+victims, and of the power over unfortunate wretches.</p>
+
+<p>The theatrical paraphernalia surrounding them developed, perhaps, in
+them a certain arrogance. I had for some time an opportunity of meeting
+and observing at close quarters an ordinary executioner. He was a man
+about forty, muscular, dry, with an agreeable, intelligent face,
+surrounded by long curly hair. His manners were quiet and grave, his
+general demeanour becoming. He replied clearly and sensibly to all
+questions put to him, but with a sort of condescension as if he were in
+some way my superior. The officers of the guard spoke to him with a
+certain respect, which he fully appreciated, for which reason, in
+presence of his chiefs, he became polite, and more dignified than ever.</p>
+
+<p>He never departed from the most refined politeness. I am sure that, when
+I was speaking to him, he felt incomparably superior to the man who was
+addressing him. I could read that in his countenance. Sometimes he was
+sent under escort, in summer, when it was very hot, to kill the dogs of
+the town with a long, very thin spear. These wandering dogs increased in
+numbers with such prodigious rapidity, and became so dangerous during
+the dog days, that, by the decision of the authorities, the executioner
+was ordered to destroy them. This degrading duty did not in any way
+humiliate him. It should have been seen with what gravity he walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>
+through the streets of the town, accompanied by a soldier escorting him;
+how, with a single glance, he frightened the women and children; and
+how, from the height of his grandeur, he looked down upon the passers-by generally.</p>
+
+<p>Executioners live at their ease. They have money to travel comfortably,
+and drink vodka. They derive most of their income from presents which
+the prisoners condemned to be flogged slip into their hands before the
+execution. When they have to do with convicts who are rich, they then
+fix a sum to be paid in proportion to the means of the victim. They will
+exact thirty roubles, sometimes more. The executioner has no right to
+spare his victim; and he does so at the risk of his own back. But for a
+suitable present he agrees not to strike too hard. People almost always
+give what he asks; should they in any case refuse, he would strike like
+a savage; and it is in his power to do so. He sometimes exacts a heavy
+sum from a man who is very poor. Then all the relations of the victim
+are put in movement. They bargain, try and beat him down, supplicate
+him; but it will not be well if they do not succeed in satisfying him.
+In such a case the superstitious fear inspired by the executioner stands
+them in good part. I had been told the most wonderful things&mdash;that at
+one blow the executioner can kill his man.</p>
+
+<p>“Is this your experience?” I asked.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps so. Who knows? Their tone seemed to decide, if there could be
+any doubt about it. They also told me that he can strike a criminal in
+such a way that he will not feel the least pain, and without leaving a scar.</p>
+
+<p>Even when the executioner receives a present not to whip too severely,
+he gives the first blow with all his strength. It is the custom! Then he
+administers the other blows with less severity, above all if he has been well paid.</p>
+
+<p>I do not know why this is done. Is it to prepare the victim for the
+succeeding blows, which will appear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> less painful after the first cruel
+one; or do they want to frighten the criminal, so that he may know with
+whom he has to deal; or do they simply wish to display their vigour from
+vanity? In any case the executioner is slightly excited before the
+execution, and he is conscious of his strength and of his power. He is
+acting at the time; the public admires him, and is filled with terror.
+Accordingly, it is not without satisfaction that he cries out to his
+victim, “Look out! you are going to have it!”&mdash;customary and fatal words
+which precede the first blow.</p>
+
+<p>It is difficult to imagine a human being degraded to such a point.</p>
+
+<p>The first day of my stay at the hospital I listened attentively to the
+stories of the convicts, which broke the monotony of the long days.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, the doctor’s visit was the first diversion. Then came
+dinner, which it will be believed was the most important affair of our
+daily life. The portions were different according to the nature of the
+illness: some of the prisoners received nothing but broth with groats in
+it; others nothing but gruel; others a kind of semolina, which was much
+liked. The convicts ended by becoming effeminate and fastidious. The
+convalescents received a piece of boiled beef. The best food, which was
+reserved for the scorbutic patients, consisted of roast beef with
+onions, horseradish, and sometimes a small glass of spirits. The bread
+was, according to the illness, black or brown; the precision preserved
+in distributing the rations would make the patients laugh.</p>
+
+<p>There were some who took absolutely nothing; the portions were exchanged
+in such a way that the food intended for one patient was eaten by
+another: those who were being kept on low diet, who received only small
+rations, bought those of the scorbutic patients; others would give any
+price for meat. There were some who ate two entire portions; it cost
+them a good deal, for they were generally sold at five kopecks each. If
+one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> had no meat to sell in our room the warder was sent to another
+section, and if he could not find any there he was asked to get some
+from the military “infirmary”&mdash;the free infirmary, as we called it.</p>
+
+<p>There were always patients ready to sell their rations; poverty was
+general, and those who possessed a few kopecks used to send out to buy
+cakes and white bread, or other delicacies, at the market. Warders
+executed these commissions in a disinterested manner. The most painful
+moment was that which followed the dinner; some went to sleep, if they
+had no other way of passing their time; others either wrangled or told
+stories in a loud voice.</p>
+
+<p>When no new patients were brought in, everything became very dull. The
+arrival of a new patient caused always a certain excitement, above all,
+if no one knew anything about him; he was questioned about his past life.</p>
+
+<p>The most interesting ones were the birds of passage: they had always
+something to tell.</p>
+
+<p>Of course they never spoke of their own little faults. If the prisoner
+did not enter upon this subject himself, no one questioned him about it.</p>
+
+<p>The only thing he was asked was, what quarter he came from? who were
+with him on the road? what state the road was in? where he was being
+taken to? etc. Stimulated by the stories of the new comers, our comrades
+in their turn began to tell what they had seen and done; what was most
+talked about was the convoys, those in command of them, the men who
+carried the sentences into execution.</p>
+
+<p>About this time, too, towards evening, the convicts who had been
+scourged came up; they always made a rather strong impression, as I have
+said; but it was not every day that any of these were brought to us, and
+everybody was bored to extinction, when nothing happened to give a
+fillip to the general relaxed and indolent state of feeling. It seemed,
+then, as though the sick themselves were exasperated at the very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> sight
+of those near them. Sometimes they squabbled violently.</p>
+
+<p>Our convicts were in high glee when a madman was taken off for medical
+examination; sometimes those who were sentenced to be scourged, feigned
+insanity that they might get off. The trick was found out, or it would
+sometimes be that they voluntarily gave up the pretence. Prisoners, who
+during two or three days had done all sorts of wild things, suddenly
+became steady and sensible people, quieted down, and, with a gloomy
+smile, asked to be taken out of the hospital. Neither the other convicts
+nor the doctors said a word of remonstrance to them about the deceit, or
+brought up the subject of their mad pranks. Their names were put down on
+a list without a word being said, and they were simply taken elsewhere;
+after the lapse of some days they came back to us with their backs all
+wounds and blood.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, the arrival of a genuine lunatic was a miserable
+thing to see all through the place. Those of the mentally unsound who
+were gay, lively, who uttered cries, danced, sang, were greeted at first
+with enthusiasm by the convicts.</p>
+
+<p>“Here’s fun!” said they, as they looked on the grins and contortions of
+the unfortunates. But the sight was horribly painful and sad. I have
+never been able to look upon the mad calmly or with indifference. There
+was one who was kept three weeks in our room: we would have hidden
+ourselves, had there been any place to do it. When things were at the
+worst they brought in another. This one affected me very powerfully.</p>
+
+<p>In the first year, or, to be more exact, during the first month of my
+exile, I went to work with a gang of kiln men to the tileries situate at
+two versts from our prison. We were set to repairing the kiln in which
+the bricks were baked in summer. That morning, in which M&mdash;tski and B.
+made me acquainted with the non-commissioned officer, superintendent of
+the works. This was a Pole already well on in life, sixty years old at
+least, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> high stature, lean, of decent and even somewhat imposing
+exterior. He had been a long time in service in Siberia, and although he
+belonged to the lower orders he had been a soldier, and in the rising of
+1830&mdash;M&mdash;tski and B. loved and esteemed him. He was always reading the
+Vulgate. I spoke to him; his talk was agreeable and intelligent; he told
+a story in a most interesting way; he was straightforward and of
+excellent temper. For two years I never saw him again, all I heard was
+that he had become a “case,” and that they were inquiring into it; and
+then one fine day they brought him into our room; he had gone quite mad.</p>
+
+<p>He came in yelling, uttering shouts of laughter, and began to dance in
+the middle of the room with indecent gestures which recalled the dance
+known as Kamarinska&iuml;a.</p>
+
+<p>The convicts were wild with enthusiasm; but, for my part, account for it
+as you will, I felt utterly miserable. Three days after, we were all of
+us upset with it; he got into violent disputes with everybody, fought,
+groaned, sang in the dead of the night; his aberrations were so
+inordinate and disgusting as to bring our very stomachs up.</p>
+
+<p>He feared nobody. They put the strait-waistcoat on him; but we were no
+whit better off for it, for he went on quarreling and fighting all
+round. At the end of three weeks, the room put up an unanimous entreaty
+to the head doctor that he might be removed to the other apartment
+reserved for the convicts. But after two days, at the request of the
+sick people in that other room, they brought him back to our infirmary.
+As we had two madmen there at once, both rooms kept sending them back
+and forward, and ended by taking one or the other of the two lunatics,
+turn and turn about. Everybody breathed more freely when they took them
+away from us, a good way off, somewhere or other.</p>
+
+<p>There was another lunatic whom I remember&mdash;a very remarkable creature.
+They had brought in, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>during the summer, a man under sentence, who
+looked like a solid and vigorous fellow enough, of about forty-five
+years. His face was sombre and sad, pitted with small-pox, with little
+red and swollen eyes. He sat down by my side. He was extremely quiet;
+spoke to nobody, and seemed utterly absorbed in his own deep reflections.</p>
+
+<p>Night fell; then he addressed me, and, without a word of preface, told
+me in a hurried and excited way&mdash;as if it were a mighty secret he were
+confiding&mdash;that he was to have two thousand strokes with the rod; but
+that he had nothing to fear, as the daughter of Colonel G&mdash;&mdash; was taking
+steps on his behalf.</p>
+
+<p>I looked at him with surprise, and observed that, as I saw the affair,
+the daughter of a Colonel could be of little use in such a case. I had
+not yet guessed what sort of person I had to do with, for they had
+brought him to the hospital as a bodily sick person, not mentally. I
+then asked him what illness he was suffering from.</p>
+
+<p>He answered that he knew nothing about it; that he had been sent among
+us for something or other; but that he was in good health, and that the
+Colonel’s daughter had fallen in love with him. Two weeks before she had
+passed in a carriage before the guard-house, where he was looking
+through the barred window, and she had gone head over ears in love at
+the mere sight of him.</p>
+
+<p>After that important moment she had come three times to the guard-house
+on different pretexts. The first time with her father, ostensibly to
+visit her brother, who was the officer on service; the second with her
+mother, to distribute alms to the prisoners. As she passed in front of
+him she had muttered that she loved him and would get him out of prison.</p>
+
+<p>He told me all this nonsense with minute and exact details; all of it
+pure figment of his poor disordered head. He believed devoutly and
+implicitly that his punishment would be graciously remitted. He spoke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>
+very calmly, and with all assurance of the passionate love he had
+inspired in this young lady.</p>
+
+<p>This odd and romantic delusion about the love of quite a young girl of
+good breeding, for a man nearly fifty years and afflicted with a face so
+disfigured and gloomy, simply showed the fearful effect produced by the
+fear of the punishment he was to have, upon the poor, timid creature.</p>
+
+<p>It may be that he had really seen some one through the bars of the
+window, and the insanity, germinating under excess of fear, had found
+shape and form in the delusion in question.</p>
+
+<p>This unfortunate soldier, who, it may be warranted, had never given a
+thought to young ladies, had got this romance into his diseased fancy,
+and clung convulsively to this wild hope. I heard him in silence, and
+then told the story to the other convicts. When these questioned him in
+their natural curiosity, he preserved a chastely discreet silence.</p>
+
+<p>Next day the doctor examined him. As the madman averred that he was not
+ill, he was put down on the list as qualified to be sent out. We learned
+that the physician had scribbled “<i>Sanat. est</i>” on the page, when it was
+quite too late to give him warning. Besides, we were ourselves not by
+any means sure what was really the matter with the man.</p>
+
+<p>The error was with the authorities who had sent him to us, without
+specifying for what reason it was thought necessary to have him come
+into the hospital&mdash;which was unpardonable negligence.</p>
+
+<p>However, two days later the unhappy creature was taken out to be
+scourged. We understood that he was dumbfounded by finding, contrary to
+his fixed expectation, that he really was to have the punishment. To the
+last moment he thought he would be pardoned, and when conducted to the
+front of the battalion, he began to cry for help.</p>
+
+<p>As there was no room or bedding-place now in our apartment they sent him
+to the infirmary. I heard that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> for eight entire days he did not utter a
+single word, and remained in stupid and misery-stricken mental
+confusion. When his back was cured they took him off. I never heard a
+single further word about him.</p>
+
+<p>As to the treatment of the sick and the remedies prescribed, those who
+were but slightly indisposed paid no attention whatever to the
+directions of the doctors, and never took their medicines; while,
+speaking generally, those really ill were very careful in following the
+doctor’s orders; they took their mixtures and powders; they took all the
+possible care they could of themselves; but they preferred external to
+internal remedies.</p>
+
+<p>Cupping-glasses, leeches, cataplasms, blood-lettings&mdash;in all which
+things the populace has so blind a confidence&mdash;were held in high honour
+in our hospital. Inflictions of that sort were regarded with satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>There was one thing quite strange, and to me interesting. Fellows, who
+stood without a murmur the frightful tortures caused by the rods and
+scourges, howled, and grinned, and moaned for the least little ailment.
+Whether it was all pretence or not, I really cannot say.</p>
+
+<p>We had cuppings of a quite peculiar kind. The machine with which
+instantaneous incisions in the skin are produced, was all out of order,
+so they had to use the lancet.</p>
+
+<p>For a cupping, twelve incisions are necessary; with a machine these are
+not painful at all, for it makes them instantaneously; with the lancet
+it is a different affair altogether&mdash;that cuts slowly, and makes the
+patient suffer. If you have to make ten openings there will be about one
+hundred and twenty pricks, and these very painful. I had to undergo it
+myself; besides the pain itself, it caused great nervous irritation; but
+the suffering was not so great that one could not contain himself from
+groaning if he tried.</p>
+
+<p>It was laughable to see great, hulking fellows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> wriggling and howling.
+One couldn’t help comparing them to some men, firm and calm enough in
+really serious circumstances, but all ill-temper or caprice in the bosom
+of their families for nothing at all; if dinner is late or the like,
+then they’ll scold and swear; everything puts them out; they go wrong
+with everybody; the more comfortable they really are, the more
+troublesome are they to other people. Characters of this sort, common
+enough among the lower orders, were but too numerous in our prison, by
+reason of our company being forced on one another.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes the prisoners chaffed or insulted the thin-skins I speak of,
+and then they would leave off complaining directly; as if they only
+wanted to be insulted to make them hold their tongues.</p>
+
+<p>Oustiantsef was no friend of grimacings of this kind, and never let slip
+an opportunity of bringing that sort of delinquent to his bearings.
+Besides, he was fond of scolding; it was a sort of necessity with him,
+engendered by illness and also his stupidity. He would first fix his
+gaze upon you for some time, and then treat you to a long speech of
+threatening and warning, and a tone of calm and impartial conviction. It
+looked as though he thought his function in this world was to watch over
+order and morality in general.</p>
+
+<p>“He must poke his nose into everything,” the prisoners with a laugh used
+to say; for they pitied, and did what they could to avoid conflicts with him.</p>
+
+<p>“Has he chattered enough? Three waggons wouldn’t be too much to carry
+away all his talk.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why need you put your oar in? One is not going to put himself about for
+a mere idiot. What’s there to cry out about at a mere touch of a lancet?”</p>
+
+<p>“What harm in the world do you fancy <i>that</i> is going to do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, comrades,” a prisoner strikes in, “the cuppings are a mere nothing.
+I know the taste of them. But the most horrid thing is when they pull<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>
+your ears for a long time together. That just shuts you up.”</p>
+
+<p>All the prisoners burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you had them pulled?”</p>
+
+<p>“By Jove, yes, I should think he had.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s why they stick upright, like hop-poles.”</p>
+
+<p>This convict, Chapkin by name, really had long and quite erect ears. He
+had long led a vagabond life, was still quite young, intelligent, and
+quiet, and used to talk with a dry sort of humour with much seriousness
+on the surface, which made his stories very comical.</p>
+
+<p>“How in the world was I to know you had had your ears pulled and
+lengthened, brainless idiot?” began Oustiantsef, once more wrathfully
+addressing Chapkin, who, however, vouchsafed no attention to his
+companion’s obliging apostrophe.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, who did pull your ears for you?” some one asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, the police superintendent, by Jove, comrades! Our offence was
+wandering about without fixed place of abode. We had just got into
+K&mdash;&mdash;, I and another tramp, Eptinie; he had no family name, that fellow.
+On the way we had fixed ourselves up a little in the hamlet of Tolmina;
+yes, there is a hamlet that’s got just that name&mdash;Tolmina. Well, we get
+to the town, and are just looking about us a little to see if there’s a
+good stroke of tramp-business to do, after which we mean to flit. You
+know, out in the open country you’re as free as air; but it’s not
+exactly the same thing in the town. First thing, we go into a
+public-house; as we open the door we give a sharp look all round. What’s
+there? A sunburnt fellow in a German coat all out at elbows, walks right
+up to us. One thing and another comes up, when he says to us:</p>
+
+<p>“‘Pray excuse me for asking if you have any papers [passport] with you?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘No, we haven’t.’</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p><p>“‘Nor have we either. I have two comrades besides these with me who are
+in the service of General Cuckoo [forest tramps, <i>i.e.</i>, who hear the
+birds sing]. We have been seeing life a bit, and just now haven’t a
+penny to bless ourselves with. May I take the liberty of requesting you
+to be so obliging as to order a quart of brandy?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘With the greatest pleasure,’ that’s what we say to him. So we drink
+together. Then they tell us of a place where there’s a real good stroke
+of business to be done&mdash;a house at the end of the town belonging to a
+wealthy merchant fellow; lots of good things there, so we make up our
+minds to try the job during the night; five of us, and the very moment
+we are going at it they pounce on us, take us to the station-house, and
+then before the head of the police. He says, ‘I shall examine them
+myself.’ Out he goes with his pipe, and they bring in for him a cup of
+tea; a sturdy fellow it was, with whiskers. Besides us five, there were
+three other tramps, just brought in. You know, comrades, that there’s
+nothing in this world more funny than a tramp, because he always forgets
+everything he’s done. You may thump his head till you’re tired with a
+cudgel; all the same, you’ll get but one answer, that he has forgotten
+all about everything.</p>
+
+<p>“The police superintendent then turns to me and asks me squarely,</p>
+
+<p>“‘Who may you be?’</p>
+
+<p>“I answer just like all the rest of them:</p>
+
+<p>“‘I’ve forgotten all about it, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Just you wait; I’ve a word or two more to say to you. I know your
+phiz.’</p>
+
+<p>“Then he gives me a good long stare. But I hadn’t seen him anywhere
+before, that’s a fact.</p>
+
+<p>“Then he asks another of them, ‘Who are you?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Mizzle-and-scud, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘They call you Mizzle-and-scud?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Precisely that, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p><p>“‘Well and good, you’re Mizzle-and-scud! And you?’ to a third.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Along-of-him, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘But what’s your name&mdash;your name?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Me? I’m called Along-of-him, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Who gave you that name, hound?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Very worthy people, your worship. There are lots of worthy people
+about; nobody knows that better than your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘And who may these “worthy people” be?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh, Lord, it has slipped my memory, your worship. Do be so kind and
+gracious as to overlook it.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘So you’ve forgotten them, all of them, these “worthy people”?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Every mother’s son of them, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘But you must have had relations&mdash;a father, a mother. Do you remember
+them?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘I suppose I must have had, your worship; but I’ve forgotten about ’em,
+my memory is so bad. Now I come to think about it, I’m sure I had some,
+your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘But where have you been living till now?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘In the woods, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Always in the woods?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Always in the woods!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Winter too?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Never saw any winter, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Get along with you! And you&mdash;what’s your name?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Hatchets-and-axes, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘And yours?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Sharp-and-mum, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘And you?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Keen-and-spry, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘And not a soul of you remembers anything that ever happened to you.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Not a mother’s son of us anything whatever.’</p>
+
+<p>“He couldn’t help it; he laughed out loud. All the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> rest began to laugh
+at seeing him laugh! But the thing does not always go off like that.
+Sometimes they lay about them, these police, with their fists, till you
+get every tooth in your jaw smashed. Devilish big and strong these
+fellows, I can tell you.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Take them off to the lock-up,’ said he. ‘I’ll see to them in a bit. As
+for you, stop here!’</p>
+
+<p>“That’s me.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Just you go and sit down there.’</p>
+
+<p>“Where he pointed to there was paper, a pen, and ink; so thinks I,
+‘What’s he up to now?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Sit down,’ he says again; ‘take the pen and write.’</p>
+
+<p>“And then he goes and clutches at my ear and gives it a good pull. I
+looked at him in the sort of way the devil may look at a priest.</p>
+
+<p>“‘I can’t write, your worship.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Write, write!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Have mercy on me, your worship!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Write your best; write, write!’</p>
+
+<p>“And all the while he keeps pulling my ear, pulling and twisting. Pals,
+I’d rather have had three hundred strokes of the cat; I tell you it was hell.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Write, write!’ that was all he said.”</p>
+
+<p>“Had the fellow gone mad? What the mischief was it?</p>
+
+<p>“Bless us, no! A little while before, a secretary had done a stroke of
+business at Tobolsk: he had robbed the local treasury and gone off with
+the money; he had very big ears, just as I have. They had sent the fact
+all over the country. I answered to that description; that’s why he
+tormented me with his ‘Write, write!’ He wanted to find out if I could
+write, and to see my hand.</p>
+
+<p>“‘A regular sharp chap that! Did it hurt?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Oh, Lord, don’t say a word about it, I beg.’</p>
+
+<p>“Everybody burst out laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Well, you did write?’</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p><p>“‘What the deuce was there to write? I set my pen going over the paper,
+and did it to such good account that he left off torturing me. He just
+gave me a dozen thumps, regulation allowance, and then let me go about
+my business: to prison, that is.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Do you really know how to write?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Of course I did. What d’ye mean? Used to very well; forgotten the
+whole blessed thing, though, ever since they began to use pens for it.’”</p>
+
+<p>Thanks to the gossip talk of the convicts who filled the hospital, time
+was somewhat quickened for us. But still, Almighty God, how wearied and
+bored we were! Long, long were the days, suffocating in their monotony,
+one absolutely the same as another. If only I had had a single book.</p>
+
+<p>For all that I went often to the infirmary, especially in the early days
+of my banishment, either because I was ill or because I needed rest,
+just to get out of the worse parts of the prison. In those life was
+indeed made a burden to us, worse even than in the hospital, especially
+as regards the effect upon moral sentiment and good feeling. We of the
+nobility were the never-ceasing objects of envious dislike, quarrels
+picked with us all the time, something done every moment to put us in
+the wrong, looks filled with menacing hatred unceasingly directed on us!
+Here, in the sick-rooms, one lived on a sort of footing of equality,
+there was something of comradeship.</p>
+
+<p>The most melancholy moment of the twenty-four hours was evening, when
+night set in. We went to bed very early. A smoky lamp just gave us one
+point of light at the very end of the room, near the door. In our corner
+we were almost in complete darkness. The air was pestilential, stifling.
+Some of the sick people could not get to sleep, would rise up, and
+remain sitting for an hour together on their beds, with their heads
+bent, as though they were in deep reflection. These I would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> look at
+steadily, trying to guess what they might be thinking of; thus I tried
+to kill time. Then I became lost in my own reveries; the past came up to
+me again, showing itself to my imagination in large powerful outlines
+filled with high lights and massive shadows, details that at any other
+time would have remained in oblivion, presented themselves in vivid
+force, making on me an impression impossible under any other circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Then I would begin to muse dreamily on the future. When shall I leave
+this place of restraint, this dreadful prison? Whither betake myself?
+What will then befall me? Shall I return to the place of my birth? So I
+brood, and brood, until hope lives once again in my soul.</p>
+
+<p>Another time I would begin to count, one, two, three, etc., to see if
+sleep could be won that way. I would set sometimes as far as three
+thousand, and was as wakeful as ever. Then somebody would turn in his bed.</p>
+
+<p>Then there’s Oustiantsef coughing, that cough of the hopelessly-gone
+consumptive, and then he would groan feebly, and stammer, “My God, I’ve
+sinned, I’ve sinned!”</p>
+
+<p>How frightful it was, that voice of the sick man, that broken, dying
+voice, in the midst of that silence so dead and complete! In a corner
+there are some sick people not yet asleep, talking in a low voice,
+stretched on their pallets. One of them is telling the story of his
+life, all about things infinitely far off; things that have fled for
+ever; he is talking of his trampings through the world, of his children,
+his wife, the old ways of his life. And the very accent of the man’s
+voice tells you that all those things are for ever over for him, that he
+is as a limb cut off from the world of men, cut off, thrown aside; there
+is another, listening intently to what he is saying. A weak, feeble sort
+of muttering and murmuring comes to one’s ear from far-off in the dreary
+room, a sound as of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> far-off water flowing somewhere.... I remember that
+one time, during a winter night that seemed as if it would never end, I
+heard a story which at first seemed as if it were the stammerings of a
+creature in nightmare, or the delirium of fever. Here it is:</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> What I relate about corporal punishment took place during
+my time. Now, as I am told, everything is changed, and is changing still.</p></div></div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER IV.</span> <span class="smaller">THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA</span></h3>
+
+<p>It was late at night, about eleven o’clock. I had been sleeping some
+time and woke up with a start. The wan and weak light of the distant
+lamp barely lit the room. Nearly everybody was fast asleep, even
+Oustiantsef; in the quiet of the night I heard his difficult breathing,
+and the rattlings in his throat with every respiration. In the
+ante-chamber sounded the heavy and distant footsteps of the patrol as
+the men came up. The butt of a gun struck the floor with its low and heavy sound.</p>
+
+<p>The door of the room was opened, and the corporal counted the sick,
+stepping softly about the place. After a minute or so he closed the door
+again, leaving a fresh sentinel there; the patrol went off, silence
+reigned again. It was only then that I observed two prisoners, not far
+from me, who were not sleeping, and who seemed to be holding a muttered
+conversation. Sometimes, in fact, it would happen that a couple of sick
+people, whose beds adjoined and who had not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> exchanged a word for weeks,
+would all of a sudden break out into conversation with one another, in
+the middle of the night, and one of them would tell the other his history.</p>
+
+<p>Probably they had been speaking for some considerable time. I did not
+hear the beginning of it, and could not at first seize upon their words,
+but little by little I got familiar with the muttered sounds, and
+understood all that was going on. I had not the least desire for sleep
+on me, so what could I do but listen.</p>
+
+<p>One of them was telling his story with some warmth, half-lying on his
+bed, with his head lifted and stretched towards his companion. He was
+plainly excited to no little degree; the necessity of speech was on him.</p>
+
+<p>The man listening was sitting up on his pallet, with a gloomy and
+indifferent air, his legs stretched out flat on the mattress, and now
+and again murmured some words in reply, more out of politeness than
+interest, and kept stuffing his nose with snuff from a horn box. This
+was the soldier Tech&eacute;r&eacute;vin, one of the company of discipline; a morose,
+cold-reasoning pedant, an idiot full of <i>amour propre</i>; while the
+narrator was Chichkof, about thirty years old; this was a civilian
+convict, whom up to that time I had not at all observed; and during the
+whole time I was at the prison I never could get up the smallest
+interest in him, for he was a conceited, heady fellow.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes he would hold his tongue for weeks together, and look sulky
+and brutal enough for anything; then all of a sudden he would strike
+into anything that was going on, behave insufferably, go into a white
+heat about nothing at all, and tell you long stories with nothing in
+them whatever about one barrack or another, blowing abuse on all the
+world, and acting like a man beside himself. Then some one would give
+him a hiding, and he would have another fit of silence. He was a mean
+and cowardly fellow, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> object of general contempt. His stature
+was low, he had little flesh on him, he had wandering eyes, though they
+sometimes got mixed and seemed filled with a stupid sort of thinking.
+When he told you anything he worked himself into a fever, gesticulated
+wildly, suddenly broke off and went to another subject, lost himself in
+fresh details, and at last forgot altogether what he was talking about.
+He often got into squabbles, this Chichkof, and when he poured insult on
+his adversary, he spoke with a sentimental whine and was affected nearly
+to tears. He was not a bad hand at playing the <i>balalaika</i>, and had a
+weakness for it; on f&ecirc;te days he would show you his dancing powers when
+others set him at it, and he danced by no means badly. You could easily
+enough make him do what you wanted ... not that he was of a complying
+turn, but he liked to please and to get intimate with fellows.</p>
+
+<p>For some considerable time I couldn’t understand the story Chichkoff was
+telling; that night I mean. It seemed to me as though he were constantly
+rambling from the point to talk of something else. Perhaps he had
+observed that Tch&eacute;r&eacute;vine was paying little attention to the narrative,
+but I fancy that he was minded to overlook this indifference, so as not to take offence.</p>
+
+<p>“When he went out on business,” he continued, “every one saluted him
+politely, paid him every respect ... a fellow with money that.”</p>
+
+<p>“You say that he was in some trade or other.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes; trade indeed! The trading class in my country is wretchedly
+ill-off; just poverty-stricken. The women go to the river and fetch
+water from ever such a distance to water their gardens. They wear
+themselves to the very bone, and, for all that, when winter comes, they
+haven’t got enough to make a mere cabbage soup. I tell you it’s
+starvation. But that fellow had a good lump of land, which his labourers
+cultivated; he had three. Then he had hives, and sold his honey; he was
+a cattle-dealer too; a much respected man in our parts. He was very old
+and quite gray, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> seventy years lay heavy on his old bones. When he
+came to the market-place with his fox-skin pelisse, everybody saluted him.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Good-day, daddy Aukoudim Trophimtych!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Good-day,’ he’d return.</p>
+
+<p>“‘How are you getting along;’ he never looked down on any one.</p>
+
+<p>“‘God keep you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘How goes business with you?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Business is as good as tallow’s white with me; and how’s yours, daddy?’</p>
+
+<p>“‘We’ve just got enough of a livelihood to pay the price of sin; always
+sweating over our bit of land.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Lord preserve you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!’</p>
+
+<p>“He never looked down on anybody. All his advice was always worth
+having; every one of his words was worth a rouble. A great reader he
+was, quite a man of learning; but he stuck to religious books. He would
+call his old wife and say to her, ‘Listen, woman, take well in what I
+say;’ then he would explain things. His old Marie St&eacute;panovna was not
+exactly an old woman, if you please; it was his second wife; he had
+married her to have children, his first wife had not brought him any. He
+had two boys still quite young, for the second of them was born when his
+father was close on sixty; Akoulka, his daughter, was eighteen years
+old, she was the eldest.”</p>
+
+<p>“Your wife? Isn’t it so?”</p>
+
+<p>“Wait a bit, wait. Then Philka Marosof begins to kick up a row. Says he
+to Aukoudim: ‘Let’s split the difference. Give me back my four hundred
+roubles. I’m not your beast of burden; I don’t want to do any more
+business with you, and I don’t want to marry your Akoulka. I want to
+have my fling now that my parents are dead. I’ll liquor away my money,
+then I’ll engage myself, ’list for a soldier; and in ten years I’ll come
+back here a field-marshal!’ Aukoudim gave him back his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> money&mdash;all he
+had of his. You see he and Philka’s father had both put in money and
+done business together.</p>
+
+<p>“‘You’re a lost man,’ that’s what he said to Philka.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Whether I’m a lost man or not, old gray-beard, you’re the biggest
+cheat I know. You’d try to screw a fortune out of four farthings, and
+pick up all the dirt about to do it with. I spit upon it. There you are
+piling up here, digging deep there, the devil only knows why. I’ve got a
+will of my own, I tell you. All the same I won’t take your Akoulka; I’ve
+slept with her already.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘How dare you insult a respectable father&mdash;a respectable girl? When did
+you sleep with her, you spawn of the sucker, you dog, you hound,
+you&mdash;&mdash;?’ said Aukoudim shaking with passion. (Philka told us all this
+later).</p>
+
+<p>“‘I’ll not only not marry your daughter, but I’ll take good care that
+nobody marries her, not even Mikita Grigoritch, for she’s a disreputable
+girl. We had a fine time together, she and I, all last autumn. I don’t
+want her at any price. All the money in the world wouldn’t make me take her.’</p>
+
+<p>“Then the fellow went and had high jinks for a while. All the town was
+as one man in sending up a cry against him. He got a lot of other
+fellows round him, for he had a heap of money. Three months he had of
+it. Such recklessness as you never heard of. Every penny went.</p>
+
+<p>“‘I want to see the end of this money. I’ll sell the house; everything;
+then I’ll ’list or go on the tramp.’</p>
+
+<p>“He was drunk from morning to evening, and went about with a carriage and pair.</p>
+
+<p>“The girls liked him well, I tell you, for he played the guitar very nicely.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then it is true that he had been too well with this Akoulka?”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p><p>“Wait, wait, can’t you? I had just buried my father. My mother lived by
+baking gingerbread. We got our livelihood by working for Aukoudim;
+barely enough to eat, a precious hard life it was. We had a bit of land
+the other side of the woods, and grew corn there; but when my father
+died I went on a spree. I made my mother give me money; but I had to
+give her a good hiding first.”</p>
+
+<p>“You were very wrong to beat her; a great sin that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sometimes I was drunk the whole blessed day. We had a house that was
+just tumbling to pieces with dry rot, still it was our own; we were as
+near famished as could be; for weeks together we had nothing but rags to
+chew. Mother nearly killed me with one stupid trick or another, but I
+didn’t care a curse. Philka Marosof and I were always together day and
+night. ‘Play the guitar to me,’ he’d say, ‘and I’ll lie in bed the
+while. I’ll throw money to you, for I’m the richest chap in the world!’
+The fellow could not speak without lying. There was only one thing. He
+wouldn’t touch a thing if it had been stolen. ‘I’m no thief, I’m an
+honest man. Let’s go and daub Akoulka’s door with pitch,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> for I won’t
+have her marry Mikita Grigoritch, I’ll stick to that.’</p>
+
+<p>“The old man had long meant to give his daughter to this Mikita
+Grigoritch. He was a man well on in life, in trade too, and wore
+spectacles. When he heard the story of Akoulka’s bad conduct, he said to
+the old father, ‘That would be a terrible disgrace for me, Aukoudim
+Trophimtych; on the whole, I’ve made up my mind not to marry; it’s to late.’</p>
+
+<p>“So we went and daubed Akoulka’s door all over with pitch. When we’d
+done that her folks beat her so that they nearly killed her.</p>
+
+<p>“Her mother, Marie St&eacute;panovna, cried, ‘I shall die of it,’ while the old
+man said, ‘If we were in the days of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> the patriarchs, I’d have hacked
+her to pieces on a block. But now everything is rottenness and
+corruption in this world.’ Sometimes the neighbours from one end of the
+street to the other heard Akoulka’s screams. She was whipped from
+morning to evening, and Philka would cry out in the market-place before everybody:</p>
+
+<p>“Akoulka’s a jolly girl to get drunk with. I’ve given it those people
+between the eyes, they won’t forget me in a hurry.’</p>
+
+<p>“Well, one day, I met Akoulka, she was going for water with her bucket,
+so I cried out to her: ‘A fine morning, pet Akoulka Koudimovna! you’re
+the girl who knows how to please fellows. Who’s living with you now, and
+where do you get your money for your finery?’ That’s just what I said to
+her; she opened her eyes as wide as you please. No more flesh on her
+than on a log of wood. She had only just given me a look, but her mother
+thought she was larking with me, and cried from her door-step, ‘Impudent
+hussy, what do you mean by talking with that fellow?’ And from that
+moment they began to beat her again. Sometimes they hided her for an
+hour together. The mother said, ‘I give her the whip because she isn’t
+my daughter any more.’”</p>
+
+<p>“She was then as bad as they said?”</p>
+
+<p>“Now you just listen to my story, nunky, will you? Well, we used to get
+drunk all the time with Philka. One day when I was abed, mother comes and says:</p>
+
+<p>“‘What d’ye mean by lying in bed, you hound, you thief!’ She abused me
+for some time, then she said, ‘Marry Akoulka. They’ll be glad to give
+her to you, and they’ll give three hundred roubles with her.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘But,’ says I, ‘all the world knows that she’s a bad girl&mdash;&mdash;’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Hist, the marriage ceremony cures all that; besides, she’ll always be
+in fear of her life from you, so you’ll be in clover together. Their
+money would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> make us comfortable; I’ve spoken about the marriage already
+to Marie St&eacute;panovna, we’re of one mind about it.’</p>
+
+<p>“So I say, ‘Let’s have twenty roubles down on the spot, and I’ll have her.’</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you needn’t believe it unless you please, but I was drunk right
+up to the wedding-day. Then Philka Marosof kept threatening me all the time.</p>
+
+<p>“‘I’ll break every bone in your body, a nice fellow you to be engaged,
+and to Akoulka; if I like I’ll sleep every blessed night with her when
+she’s your wife.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘You’re a hound, and a liar,’ that’s what I said to him. But he
+insulted me so in the street, before everybody, that I ran to Aukoudim’s
+and said, ‘I won’t marry her unless I have fifty roubles down this moment.’”</p>
+
+<p>“And they really did give her to you in marriage?”</p>
+
+<p>“Me? Why not, I should like to know? We were respectable people enough.
+Father had been ruined by a fire a little before he died; he had been a
+richer man than Aukoudim Trophimtych.</p>
+
+<p>“‘A fellow without a shirt to his back like you ought to be only too
+happy to marry my daughter;’ that’s what old Aukoudim said.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Just you think of your door, and the pitch that went on it,’ I said to him.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Stuff and nonsense,’ said he, ‘there’s no proof whatever that the
+girl’s gone wrong.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘Please yourself. There’s the door, and you can go about your business;
+but give back the money you’ve had!’</p>
+
+<p>“Then Philka Marosof and I settled it together to send Mitri Bykoff to
+Father Aukoudim to tell him that we’d insult him to his face before
+everybody. Well, I had my skin as full as it could hold right up to the
+wedding-day. I wasn’t sober till I got into the church. When they took
+us home after church the girl’s uncle, Mitrophone St&eacute;panytch, said:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p><p>“‘This isn’t a nice business; but it’s over and done now.’</p>
+
+<p>“Old Aukoudim was sitting there crying, the tears rolled down on his
+gray beard. Comrade, I’ll tell you what I had done: I had put a whip
+into my pocket before we went to church, and I’d made up my mind to have
+it out of her with that, so that all the world might know how I’d been
+swindled into the marriage, and not think me a bigger fool than I am.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see, and you wanted her to know what was in store for her. Ah, was&mdash;&mdash;?”</p>
+
+<p>“Quiet, nunky, quiet! Among our people I’ll tell you how it is; directly
+after the marriage ceremony they take the couple to a room apart, and
+the others remain drinking till they return. So I’m left alone with
+Akoulka; she was pale, not a bit of colour on her cheeks; frightened out
+of her wits. She had fine hair, supple and bright as flax, and great big
+eyes. She scarcely ever was known to speak; you might have thought she
+was dumb; an odd creature, Akoulka, if ever there was one. Well, you can
+just imagine the scene. My whip was ready on the bed. Well, she was as
+pure a girl as ever was, not a word of it all was true.”</p>
+
+<p>“Impossible!”</p>
+
+<p>“True, I swear; as good a girl as any good family might wish.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then, brother, why&mdash;why&mdash;why had she had to undergo all that torture?
+Why had Philka Marosof slandered her so?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, why, indeed?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I got down from the bed, and went on my knees before her, and put
+my hands together as if I were praying, and just said to her, ‘Little
+mother, pet, Akoulka Koudimovna, forgive me for having been such an
+idiot as to believe all that slander; forgive me. I’m a hound!’</p>
+
+<p>“She was seated on the bed, and gazed at me fixedly. She put her two
+hands on my shoulders and began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> laugh; but the tears were running
+all down her cheeks. She sobbed and laughed all at once.</p>
+
+<p>“Then I went out and said to the people in the other room, ‘Let Philka
+Marosof look to himself. If I come across him he won’t be long for this world.’</p>
+
+<p>“The old people were beside themselves with delight. Akoulka’s mother
+was ready to throw herself at her daughter’s feet, and sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>“Then the old man said, ‘If we had known really how it was, my dearest
+child, we wouldn’t have given you a husband of that sort.’</p>
+
+<p>“You ought to have seen how we were dressed the first Sunday after our
+marriage&mdash;when we left church! I’d got a long coat of fine cloth, a fur
+cap, with plush breeches. She had a pelisse of hareskin, quite new, and
+a silk kerchief on her head. One was as fine as the other. Everybody
+admired us. I must say I looked well, and pet Akoulka did too. One
+oughtn’t to boast, but one oughtn’t to sing small. I tell you people
+like us are not turned out by the dozen.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not a doubt about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just you listen, I tell you. The day after my marriage I ran off from
+my guests, drunk as I was, and went about the streets crying, ‘Where’s
+that scoundrel of a Philka Marosof? Just let him come near me, the
+hound, that’s all!’ I went all over the market-place yelling that out. I
+was as drunk as a man could be, and stand.</p>
+
+<p>“They went after me and caught me close to Vlassof’s place. It took
+three men to get me back again to the house.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, nothing else was spoken about all over the village. The girls
+said, when they met in the market-place, ‘Well, you’ve heard the
+news&mdash;Akoulka was all right!’</p>
+
+<p>“A little while after I do come across Philka Marosof, who said to me
+before everybody, strangers to the place, too, ‘Sell your wife, and
+spend the money on drink. Jackka the soldier only married for that; he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>
+didn’t sleep one night with his wife; but he got enough to keep his skin
+full for three years.’</p>
+
+<p>“I answered him, ‘Hound!’</p>
+
+<p>“‘But,’ says he, ‘you’re an idiot! You didn’t know what you were about
+when you married&mdash;you were drunk. How could you tell all about it?’</p>
+
+<p>“So off I went to the house, and cried out to them ‘You married me when I was drunk.’</p>
+
+<p>“Akoulka’s mother tried to fasten herself on me; but I cried, ‘Mother,
+you don’t know about anything but money. You bring me Akoulka!’</p>
+
+<p>“And didn’t I beat her! I tell you I beat her for two hours running,
+till I rolled on the floor myself with fatigue. She couldn’t leave her
+bed for three weeks.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a dead sure thing,” said Tch&eacute;r&eacute;vine phlegmatically; “if you don’t
+beat them they&mdash;&mdash; Did you find her with her lover?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; to tell the truth, I never actually caught her,” said Chichkoff
+after a pause, speaking with effort; “but I was hurt, a good deal hurt,
+for every one made fun of me. The cause of it all was Philka. ‘Your wife
+is just made for everybody to look at,’ said he.</p>
+
+<p>“One day he invited us to see him, and then he went at it. ‘Do just look
+what a good little wife he has! Isn’t she tender, fine, nicely brought
+up, affectionate, full of kindness for all the world? I say, my lad,
+have you forgotten how we daubed their door with pitch?’ I was full at
+that moment, drunk as may be; then he seized me by the hair and had me
+down upon the ground before I knew where I was. ‘Come along&mdash;dance;
+aren’t you Akoulka’s husband? I’ll hold your hair for you, and you shall
+dance; it will be good fun.’ ‘Dog!’ said I to him. ‘I’ll bring some
+jolly fellows to your house,’ said he, ‘and I’ll whip your Akoulka
+before your very eyes just as long as I please.’ Would you believe it?
+For a whole month I daren’t go out of the house, I was so afraid he’d
+come to us and drag my wife through the dirt. And how I did beat her for it!”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p><p>“What was the use of beating her? You can tie a woman’s hands, but not
+her tongue. You oughtn’t to give them a hiding too often. Beat ’em a
+bit, then scold ’em well, then fondle ’em; that’s what a woman is made for.”</p>
+
+<p>Chichkoff remained quite silent for a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>“I was very much hurt,” he went on; “I began it again just as before. I
+beat her from morning till night for nothing; because she didn’t get up
+from her seat the way I liked; because she didn’t walk to suit me. When
+I wasn’t hiding her, time hung heavy on my hands. Sometimes she sat by
+the window crying silently&mdash;it hurt my feelings sometimes to see her
+cry, but I beat her all the same. Sometimes her mother abused me for it:
+‘You’re a scoundrel, a gallows-bird!’ ‘Don’t say a word or I’ll kill
+you; you made me marry her when I was drunk, you swindled me.’ Old
+Aukoudim wanted at first to have his finger in the pie. Said he to me
+one day: ‘Look here, you’re not such a tremendous fellow that one can’t
+put you down;’ but he didn’t get far on that track. Marie St&eacute;panovna had
+become as sweet as milk. One day she came to me crying her eyes out and
+said: ‘My heart is almost broken, Ivan Semionytch; what I’m going to ask
+of you is a little thing for you, but it is a good deal to me; let her
+go, let her leave you, daddy Ivan.’ Then she throws herself at my feet.
+‘Do give up being so angry! Wicked people slander her; you know quite
+well she was good when you married her.’ Then she threw herself at my
+feet again and cried. But I was as hard as nails. ‘I won’t hear a word
+you have to say; what I choose to do, I do, to you or anybody, for I’m
+crazed with it all. As to Philka Marosof, he’s my best and dearest friend.’”</p>
+
+<p>“You’d begun to play your pranks together again, you and he?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, by Jove! He was out of the way by this time; he was killing himself
+with drink, nothing less. He had spent all he had on drink, and had
+’listed for a soldier, as substitute for a citizen body in the town. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>
+our parts, when a lad makes up his mind to be substitute for another, he
+is master of that house and everybody there till he’s called to the
+ranks. He gets the sum agreed on the day he goes off, but up to then he
+lives in the house of the man who buys him, sometimes six whole months,
+and there isn’t a horror in the whole world those fellows are not guilty
+of. It’s enough to make folks take the holy images out of the house.
+From the moment he consents to be substitute for the son of the family
+then he considers himself their patron and benefactor, and makes them
+dance as he pipes, or else he goes off the bargain.</p>
+
+<p>“So Philka Marosof played the very mischief at the home of this
+townsman. He slept with the daughter, pulled the master of the house by
+the beard after dinner, did anything that came into his head. They had
+to heat the bath for him every day, and, what’s more, give him brandy
+fumes with the steam of the bath: and he would have the women lead him
+by the arms to the bath room.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p>
+
+<p>“When he came back to the man’s house after a revel elsewhere, he would
+stop right in the middle of the road and cry out:</p>
+
+<p>“‘I won’t go in by the door; pull down the fence!’</p>
+
+<p>“And they actually <i>had</i> to pull down the fence, though there was the
+door right at it to let him in. That all came to an end though, the day
+they took him to the regiment. That day he was sobered sufficiently. The
+crowd gathered all through the street.</p>
+
+<p>“‘They’re taking off Philka Marosof!’</p>
+
+<p>“He made a salute on all sides, right and left. Just at that moment
+Akoulka was returning from the kitchen-garden. Directly Philka saw her
+he cried out to her:</p>
+
+<p>“‘Stop!’ and down he jumped from the cart and threw himself down at her feet.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p><p>“‘My soul, my sweet little strawberry, I’ve loved you two years long.
+Now they’re taking me off to the regiment with the band playing. Forgive
+me, good honest girl of a good honest father, for I’m nothing but a
+hound, and all you’ve gone through is my fault.’</p>
+
+<p>“Then he flings himself down before her a second time. At first Akoulka
+was exceedingly frightened; but she made him a great bow, which nearly
+bent her double.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Forgive me, too, my good lad; but I am really not at all angry with you.’</p>
+
+<p>“As she went into the house I was at her heels.</p>
+
+<p>“‘What did you say to him, you she-devil, you?’</p>
+
+<p>“Now you may believe it or not as you like, but she looked at me as bold
+as you please, and answered:</p>
+
+<p>“‘I love him better than anything or anybody in this world.’</p>
+
+<p>“‘I say!’</p>
+
+<p>“That day I didn’t utter one single word. Only towards evening I said to
+her: ‘Akoulka, I’m going to kill you now.’ I didn’t close an eye the
+whole night. I went into the little room leading to ours and drank
+kwass. At daybreak I went into the house again. ‘Akoulka, get ready and
+come into the fields.’ I had arranged to go there before; my wife knew it.</p>
+
+<p>“‘You are right,’ said she. ‘It’s quite time to begin reaping. I’ve
+heard that our labourer is ill and doesn’t work a bit.’</p>
+
+<p>“I put to the cart without saying a word. As you go out of the town
+there’s a forest fifteen versts in length. At the end of it is our
+field. When we had gone about three versts through the wood I stopped the horse.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Come, get up, Akoulka; your end is come.’</p>
+
+<p>“She looked at me all in a fright, and got up without a word.</p>
+
+<p>“‘You’ve tormented me enough. Say your prayers.’</p>
+
+<p>“I seized her by the hair&mdash;she had long, thick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> tresses&mdash;I rolled them
+round my arm. I held her between my knees; took out my knife; threw her
+head back, and cut her throat. She screamed; the blood spurted out. Then
+I threw away my knife. I pressed her with all my might in my arms. I put
+her on the ground and embraced her, yelling with all my might. She
+screamed; I yelled; she struggled and struggled. The blood&mdash;her
+blood&mdash;splashed my face, my hands. It was stronger than I was&mdash;stronger.
+Then I took fright. I left her&mdash;left my horse and began to run; ran back
+to the house.</p>
+
+<p>“I went in the back way, and hid myself in the old ramshackle
+bath-house, which we never used now. I lay myself down under the seat,
+and remained hid till the dead of the night.”</p>
+
+<p>“And Akoulka?”</p>
+
+<p>“She got up to come back to the house; they found her later, a hundred
+steps from the place.”</p>
+
+<p>“So you hadn’t finished her?”</p>
+
+<p>“No.” Chichkoff stopped a while.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said Tch&eacute;r&eacute;vine, “there’s a vein; if you don’t cut it at the
+first the man will go on struggling; the blood may flow fast enough, but
+he won’t die.”</p>
+
+<p>“But she was dead all the same. They found her in the evening, and she
+was cold. They told the police, and hunted me up. They found me in the
+night in the old bath.</p>
+
+<p>“And there you have it. I’ve been four years here already,” added he,
+after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, if you don’t beat ’em you make no way at all,” said Tch&eacute;r&eacute;vine
+sententiously, taking out his snuff-box once more. He took his pinches
+very slowly, with long pauses. “For all that, my lad, you behaved like a
+fool. Why, I myself&mdash;I came upon my wife with a lover. I made her come
+into the shed, and then I doubled up a halter and said to her:</p>
+
+<p>“‘To whom did you swear to be faithful?&mdash;to whom did you swear it in
+church? Tell me that?’</p>
+
+<p>“And then I gave it her with my halter&mdash;beat her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> and beat her for an
+hour and a half; till at last she was quite spent, and cried out:</p>
+
+<p>“‘I’ll wash your feet and drink the water afterwards.’</p>
+
+<p>“Her name was Crodotia.”</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Daubing the door of a house, where a young girl lives, is
+done to show that she is dishonoured.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A mark of respect paid in Russia formerly, now disused.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER V.</span> <span class="smaller">THE SUMMER SEASON</span></h3>
+
+<p>April is come; Holy Week is not far off. We set about our summer tasks.
+The sun becomes hotter and more brilliant every day; the atmosphere has
+the spring in it, and acts upon our nervous system powerfully. The
+convict, in his chains, feels the trembling influence of the lovely days
+like any other creature; they rouse desires in him, inexpressible
+longings for his home, and many other things. I think that he misses his
+liberty, yearns for freedom more when the day is filled with sunlight
+than during the rainy and melancholy days of autumn and winter. You may
+observe this positively among convicts; if they <i>do</i> feel a little joy
+on a beautiful clear day, they have a reaction into greater impatience and irritability.</p>
+
+<p>I noticed that in spring there was much more squabbling in our prison;
+there was more noise, the yelling was greater, there were more fights;
+during the working hours we would see a man sometimes fixed in a
+meditative gaze, which seemed lost in the blue distance somewhere, the
+other side of the Irtych, where stretched the boundless plain, with its
+flight of hundreds of versts, the free Kirghiz Steppe. Long-drawn sighs
+came to one’s ear, sighs breathed from the depths of the chest; it might
+seem that the air of those wide and free regions, haunted by their
+thought, forced the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> convicts to draw deep respirations, and was a sort
+of solace to their crushed and fettered souls.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” cries at last the poor prisoner all at once, with a long, sighing
+cry; then he seizes his pick furiously, or picks up the bricks, which he
+has to carry from one place to another. But after a brief minute he
+seems to forget the passing impression, and begins laughing, or
+insulting people near, so fitful is his humour; then he attacks the work
+he has to do with unusual fire, labours with might and main, as if
+trying to stifle by fatigue the grief that has him by the throat. You
+see they are fellows of unimpaired vigour, all in the very flower of
+life, with all their physical and other strength about them.</p>
+
+<p>How heavy the irons are during this season! All this is not
+sentimentality, it is the report of rigorous observation. During the hot
+season, under a fiery sun, when all one’s being, all one’s soul, is
+vividly conscious of, and intimately feels, the unspeakably strong
+resurrection of nature going on everywhere, it is more difficult to
+support the confinement, the perpetual surveillance, the tyranny of a
+will other than one’s own.</p>
+
+<p>Besides this, it is in spring with the first song of the lark that
+throughout all Siberia and Russia men set out on the tramp; God’s
+creatures, if they can, break their prison and escape into the woods.
+After the stifling ditch where they work, after the boats, the irons,
+the rods and whips, they go vagabondizing where they please, wherever
+they can make it out best; they eat and drink what they can get, ’tis
+all the time pot-luck with them; and by night they sleep undisturbed in
+the woods or in a field, without a care, without the agony of knowing
+themselves in prison, as if they were God’s own birds; their
+“good-night” is said to the stars, and the eye that watches them is the
+eye of God. Not altogether a rosy life, by any means; sometimes hunger
+and fatigue are heavy on them “in the service of General Cuckoo.” Often
+enough the wanderers have not a morsel of bread to keep their teeth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+going for days and days. They have to hide from everybody, run to earth
+like marmots; sometimes they are driven to robbery, pillage&mdash;nay, even murder.</p>
+
+<p>“Send a man there and he becomes a child, and just throws himself on all
+he sees”; that is what people say of those transported to Siberia. This
+saying may be applied even more fitly to the tramps. They are almost all
+brigands and thieves, by necessity rather than inclination. Many of them
+are hardened to the life, irreclaimable; there are convicts who go off
+after having served their time, even after they have been put on some
+land as their own. They ought to be happy in their new state, with their
+daily bread assured them. Well, it is not so; an irresistible impulse
+sends them wandering off.</p>
+
+<p>This life in the woods, wretched and fearful as it is, but still free
+and adventurous, has a mysterious seduction for those who have
+experienced it; among these fugitives you may find to your surprise,
+people of good habit of mind, peaceable temper, who had shown every
+promise of becoming settled creatures&mdash;good tillers of the land. A
+convict will marry, have children, live for five years in the same
+place, then all of a sudden he will disappear one fine morning,
+abandoning wife and children, to the stupefaction of his family and the
+whole neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>One day, I was shown at the convict establishment one of these deserters
+of the family hearthstone. He had committed no crime&mdash;at least, he was
+under suspicion of none&mdash;but all through his life he had been a
+deserter, a deserter from every post. He had been to the southern
+frontier of the empire, the other side of the Danube, in the Kirghiz
+Steppe, in Eastern Siberia, the Caucasus, in a word, everywhere. Who
+knows? under other conditions this man might have been a Robinson
+Crusoe, with the passion of travel so on him. These details I have from
+other convicts, for he did not like talk, and never opened his mouth
+except when absolutely necessary. He was a peasant, of quite small size,
+of some fifty years, very quiet in demeanour, with a face so still as to
+seem quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> without any sort of meaning, impassive almost to idiotcy.
+His delight was to sit for hours in the sun humming a sort of song
+between his teeth so softly, that five steps off he was inaudible. His
+features were, so to speak, petrified; he ate little, principally black
+bread; he never bought white bread or spirits; my belief is, he never
+had had any money, and that he couldn’t have counted it if he had. He
+was indifferent to everything. Sometimes he fed the prison dogs with his
+own hand, a thing no one else was known to do; (speaking generally,
+Russians don’t like giving dogs things to eat from the hand). People
+said that he had been married, twice even, and that he had children
+somewhere. Why he had been sent as a convict, I have not the least idea.
+We fellows were always fancying that he would escape; but his hour did
+not come, or perhaps had come and gone; anyhow, he went through with his
+punishment without resistance. He seemed an element quite foreign to the
+medium wherein he had his being, an alien, self-concentrated creature.
+Still, there was nothing in this deep surface calm which could be
+trusted; yet, after all, what good would it have been to him to escape from the place?</p>
+
+<p>Compared with life at the convict prison, the vagabond age of the
+forests is as the joys of Paradise. The tramp’s lot is wretched enough,
+but at least free. So it is that every prisoner all over the soil of
+Russia, becomes restless with the first rays of the smiling spring.</p>
+
+<p>Comparatively few form any settled plan for flight, they fear the
+hindrances in the way and the punishment that may ensue; only one in a
+hundred, not more, make up his mind to it, but how to do it is a thought
+that never ceases to haunt the minds of the ninety-nine others. Filled
+as they are with this longing, anything that looks like giving a chance
+of success is a comfort to them; then they set about comparing the facts
+with cases of successful escape. I speak only of prisoners after and
+under sentence, for prisoners not yet tried and condemned, are much more
+ready to try at an escape. And those who have been sentenced, rarely
+get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> away unless they attempt it in early days. When they have spent two
+or three years of their time, they put them to a sort of credit-account
+in their minds, and conclude that it is better to finish with the law
+and be put on land as a free man, rather than forfeit that time if they
+fail in escaping, which is always a possibility. Certainly not more than
+one convict in ten succeeds in <i>changing his lot</i>. Those who do, are
+nearly always men sentenced to an extremely long punishment, or for
+life. Fifteen, twenty years seem like an eternity to them. Then there is
+the branding, which is a great difficulty in the way of complete escape.</p>
+
+<p><i>Changing your lot</i> is a technical expression. When a convict is caught
+trying to escape, he is subjected to formal interrogatory, and will say
+he wanted to <i>change his lot</i>. This somewhat literary formula exactly
+represents the act in question. No escaped prisoner ever hopes to become
+a perfectly free man, for he knows that it is nearly impossible; what he
+looks for is to be sent to some other convict establishment, or to be
+put on the land, or to be tried again for some offence committed when on
+the tramp; in a word, to be sent anywhere else, it matters not where, so
+that he get out of his present prison which has become insufferable to
+him. All these fugitives, unless they find some unexpected shelter for
+the winter, unless they meet some one interested in concealing them, or
+if&mdash;last resort&mdash;they cannot procure&mdash;and sometimes a murder does
+it&mdash;the legal document, which enables them to go about unmolested
+everywhere; all these fugitives present themselves in crowds, during the
+autumn, in the towns and at the prisons; they confess themselves to be
+escaped tramps, pass the winter in jail, and live in the secret hope of
+getting away the following summer.</p>
+
+<p>On me, as well as others, the spring exercised its influence. Well do I
+remember the avidity with which my gaze fed upon the horizon through the
+gaps in the palisades; long, long did I stand with my head glued to the
+pickets, obstinately and insatiably gazing on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> grass greening in the
+ditch surrounding the fortress, and at the blue of the distant sky as it
+grew denser and denser. My anguish, my melancholy, were heavier on me;
+as each day wore away the jail became odious, detestable. Hatred for me,
+as a man of the nobility, filled the hearts of the convicts during these
+first years, and this feeling of theirs simply poisoned my life for me.
+Often did I ask to be sent to the hospital, when there was no need of
+it, merely to be out of the punishment part of the place, to feel myself
+out of the range of this unrelenting and implacable hostility.</p>
+
+<p>“You nobles have beaks of iron, and you tore us to pieces with your
+beaks when we were serfs,” is what the convicts used to say to us. How I
+envied the people of the lower class who came into the place as
+prisoners! It was different with them, they were in comradeship with all
+there from the very first moment. So was it that in the spring, Freedom
+showing herself as a sort of phantom of the season, the joy diffused
+throughout all Nature, translated themselves within my soul into a more
+than doubled melancholy and nervous irritability.</p>
+
+<p>As the sixth week of Lent came I had to go through my religious
+exercises, for the convicts were divided by the sub-superintendent into
+seven sections&mdash;answering to the weeks in Lent&mdash;and these had to attend
+to their devotions according to this roster. Each section was composed
+of about thirty men. This week was a great solace to me; we went two or
+three times a day to the church, which was close to the prison. I had
+not been in church for a long time. The Lenten services, familiar to me
+from early childhood in my father’s house, the solemn prayers, the
+prostrations&mdash;all stirred in me the fibres of the memory of things long,
+long past, and woke my earliest impressions to fresh life. Well do I
+remember how happy I was when at morn we went into God’s house, treading
+the ground which had frozen in the night, under the escort of soldiers
+with loaded guns; the escort remained outside the church.</p>
+
+<p>Once within we were massed close to the door so that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> we could scarcely
+hear anything except the deep voice of the ministering deacon; now and
+again we caught a glimpse of a black chasuble or the bare head of the
+priest. Then it came into my mind how, when a child, I used to look at
+the common people who formed a compact mass at the door, and how they
+would step back in a servile way before some important epauletted
+fellow, or some nobleman with a big paunch, some lady splendidly dressed
+and of high devotion who, in a hurry to get at the front benches, and
+ready for a row if there was any difficulty as to their being honoured
+with the best of places. As it seemed to me then, it was only <i>there</i>,
+near the church door, not far from the entry, that prayer was put up
+with genuine fervour and humility, only there that, when people did
+prostrate themselves on the floor it was done with real abasement of
+self and full sense of unworthiness.</p>
+
+<p>And now I myself was in that place of the common people, no, not in
+their place, for we who were there were in chains and degradation.
+Everybody kept himself at a distance from us. We were feared, and alms
+were put in our hands as if we were beggars; I remember that all this
+gave me the strange sensation of a refined and subtle pleasure. “Let it
+even be so!” such was my thought. The convicts prayed with deep fervour;
+every one of them had with him his poor farthing for a little candle, or
+for their collection for the church expenses. “I too, I am a man,” each
+one of them perhaps said, as he made his offering; “before God we are all equal.”</p>
+
+<p>After the six o’clock mass we went up to communion. When the priest,
+<i>ciforium</i> in hand, recited the words, “Have mercy on me as Thou hadst
+on the thief whom Thou didst save,” nearly all the convicts prostrated
+themselves, and their chains clanked; I think they took these words
+literally as applied to themselves, and not as being in Scripture.</p>
+
+<p>Holy Week came. The authorities presented each of us with an Easter egg,
+and a small piece of wheaten bread. The townspeople loaded us with
+benevolences.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> As at Christmas there was the priest’s visitation with
+the cross, inspecting visit of the heads of departments, larded cabbage,
+general enlargement of soul, and unlimited lounging, the only difference
+being, that one could now walk about in the court-yard, and warm oneself
+in the sun. Everything seemed filled with more light, larger than in the
+winter, but also more fraught with sadness. The long, endless, summer
+days seemed peculiarly unbearable on Church holidays. Work days were at
+least shortened to our sense by the fatigue of work.</p>
+
+<p>Our summer labours were much more trying than the winter tasks; our
+business was principally that of carrying out engineering works. The
+convicts were set to building, digging, bricklaying, or repairing
+Government buildings, locksmith’s work, or carpentering, or painting.
+Others went into the brick-fields, and that was looked upon by us as the
+hardest of all we had laid on us. The brick-fields were situated about
+four versts from the fortress; through all the summer they sent there,
+every morning at six o’clock, a gang of fifty convicts. For this gang
+they used to pick out workmen who had learned no trade in particular.
+The convicts took with them their bread for the day, the distance was
+too great for them to come back, eight useless versts, for dinner with
+the others, so they had a meal when they returned in the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Work was assigned to each for the day, but there was so much of it that
+it was all a man could do, nay, more, to get to the end of it. First, we
+had to dig and carry the clay, moisten it, and mould it in the ditch,
+and then make a goodly quantity of bricks, two hundred or so, sometimes
+fifty more than that. I was only twice sent to the brick-field. The
+convicts sent to this labour came back in the evening dead tired, and
+every one of them complained of the others, that he had had the worst of
+the work put on him. I believe that reproaches of this kind were a
+pleasure, a consolation to them. Some of them, however, liked the
+brick-field work, because they got away from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> town, and to the banks
+of the Irtych into open, agreeable country, with the sky overhead; the
+surroundings were more agreeable than those frightful Government
+buildings. They were allowed to smoke there in all freedom, and to
+remain lying down for half-an-hour or so, which was a great pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>As for me, I was sent to one of the shops, or else to pound up
+alabaster, or to carry bricks, which last job I had for two months
+together. I had to take my tale of bricks from the banks of the Irtych
+to a distance of about 140 yards, and to pass the ditch of the fortress
+before getting to the barrack which they were putting up. This work
+suited me well enough, although the cord with which I carried my bricks
+sawed my shoulders; what particularly pleased me was that my strength
+increased sensibly. At the outset I could not carry more than eight
+bricks at once; each of them weighed about twelve pounds. I got to be
+able to carry twelve, or even fifteen, which delighted me much. You
+wanted physical as well as moral strength to be able to bear all the
+discomforts of that accursed life.</p>
+
+<p>There was this, too: I wanted, when I left the place, really to live,
+not to be half-dead. I took pleasure in carrying my bricks, then; it was
+not merely that this labour strengthened my body, but because it took me
+always to the banks of the Irtych. I speak often of this spot, it was
+the only one where we saw God’s <i>own</i> world, a pure and bright horizon,
+the free desert steppes, whose bareness always produced a strange
+impression on me. All the other workyards were in the fortress itself,
+or in its neighbourhood; and the fortress, from the earliest days I was
+there, was the object of my hatred, and, above all, its appurtenant
+buildings. The house of the Major Commandant seemed to me a repulsive,
+accursed place. I never could pass it without casting upon it a look of
+detestation; while at the river-bank I could forget my miserable self as
+I sent my gaze over the immense<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> desert space, just as a prisoner may
+when he looks at the world of freedom through the barred casement of his
+dungeon. Everything in that place was dear and gracious to my eyes; the
+sun shining in the infinite blue of heaven, the distant song of the
+Kirghiz that came from the opposite bank.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes I would fix my sight for a long while upon the poor smoky
+cabin of some <i>ba&iuml;gouch</i>; I would study the bluish smoke as it curled in
+the air, the Kirghiz woman busy with her two sheep.... The things I saw
+were wild, savage, poverty-stricken; but they were free. I would follow
+the flight of a bird threading its way in the pure transparent air; now
+it skims the water, now disappears in the azure sky, now suddenly comes
+to view again, a mere point in space. Even the poor wee floweret fading
+in a cleft of the bank, which would show itself when spring began, fixed
+my attention and would draw my tears.... The melancholy of this first
+year of convict life and hard labour was unendurable, too much for my
+strength. The anguish of it was so great, I could not notice my
+immediate surroundings at all; I merely shut my eyes and would not see.
+Among the creatures with spoiled lives with whom I had to live, I did
+not yet note those who were capable of thinking and feeling, in spite of
+their external repulsiveness. There came not to my ears (or if there did
+I knew it not) one word of kindliness in the midst of the rain of
+poisonous talk that came down all the time. Still one such utterance
+there was, simple, straightforward, of pure motive, and it came from the
+heart of a man who had suffered and endured more than myself. But it is
+useless to enlarge on this.</p>
+
+<p>The great fatigue I underwent was a source of satisfaction, it gave me
+hope of sound sleep. During the summer sleep was torment, more
+intolerable than the closeness and infection winter brought with it.
+Some of the nights were certainly very beautiful. The sun, which had not
+ceased to inundate the court-yard all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> the day, hid itself at last. The
+air freshened, and the night, the night of the steppe, became
+comparatively cold. The convicts, until shut up in their barracks,
+walked about in groups, especially on the kitchen side; for that was the
+place where questions of general interest were by preference discussed,
+and comments were made upon the rumours from without, often absurd
+indeed, but always keenly exciting to these men cut off from the world.
+For example, we suddenly learn that our Major had been roughly dismissed
+from his post. Convicts are as credulous as children; they know the news
+to be false, or most unlikely, and that the fellow who brings it is a
+past master in the art of lying, Kvassoff; for all that they clutch at
+the nonsensical story, go into high delight over it, are much consoled,
+and at last quite ashamed to have been duped by a Kvassoff.</p>
+
+<p>“I should like to know who’ll show <i>him</i> the door?” cries one convict;
+“don’t you fear, he’s a fellow who knows how to stick on.”</p>
+
+<p>“But,” says another, “he has his superiors over him.” This one is a warm
+controversialist, and has seen the world.</p>
+
+<p>“Wolves don’t feed on one another,” says a third gloomily, half to
+himself. <i>This</i> one is an old fellow, growing gray, and he always takes
+his sour cabbage soup into a corner, and eats it there.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think his superiors will take <i>your</i> advice whether they shall
+show him the door or not?” adds a fourth, who doesn’t seem to care about
+it at all, giving a stroke to his balala&iuml;ka.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, why not?” replies the second angrily; “if you <i>are</i> asked, answer
+what’s in your mind. But no, with us fellows it’s all mere cry, and when
+you ought to go at things with a will, everybody sneaks out.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s <i>so</i>!” says the one playing with the balala&iuml;ka. “Hard labour and
+prison are just the things to cause <i>that</i>.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p><p>“It was like that the other day,” says the second one, without hearing
+the remark made to him. “There was a little wheat left, sweepings, a
+mere nothing; there was some idea of turning the refuse into money;
+well, look here, they took it to him, and he confiscated it. All
+economy, you see. Was that <i>so</i>, and was it right&mdash;yes or no?”</p>
+
+<p>“But whom can you complain to?”</p>
+
+<p>“To whom? Why, the ’spector (<i>Inspector</i>) who’s coming.”</p>
+
+<p>“What ’spector?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s true, pals, a ’spector is coming soon,” said a youthful convict,
+who had got some sort of knowledge, had read the “Duchesse de la
+Valli&egrave;re,” or some book of that sort, and who had been Quartermaster in
+a regiment; a bit of a wag, whom, as a man of information, the convicts
+held in a sort of respect. Without paying the least attention to the
+exciting debate, he goes straight to the cook, and asks him for some
+liver. Our cooks often deal in victuals of that kind; they used to buy a
+whole liver, cut it in pieces, and sell it to the other convicts.</p>
+
+<p>“Two kopecks’ worth, or four?” asks cook.</p>
+
+<p>“A four-kopeck cut; I’ll eat, the others shall look on and long,” says
+this convict. “Yes, pals, a general, a real general, is coming from
+Petersburg to ’spect all Siberia; it’s so, heard it at the Governor’s place.”</p>
+
+<p>This news produces an extraordinary effect. For a quarter of an hour
+they ask each other who this General can be? what’s his title? whether
+his grade is higher than that of the Generals of our town? The convicts
+delight in discussing ranks and degrees, in finding out who’s at the
+head of things, who can make the other officials crook their backs, and
+to whom he crooks his own; so they get up an argument and quarrel about
+their Generals, and rude words fly about, all in honour of these high
+officers&mdash;fights, too, sometimes. What interest can <i>they</i> possibly have
+in it? When one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> hears convicts speaking of Generals and high officials
+one gets a measure of their intelligence as they were while still in the
+world before the prison days. It cannot be concealed that among our
+people, even in much higher circles, talk about generals and high
+officials is looked upon as the most serious and refined conversation.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you see, they <i>have</i> sent our Major to the right about, don’t
+ye?” observes Kvassoff, a little, rubicund, choleric, small-brained
+fellow, the same who had announced the supersession of the Major.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll just grease their palm for them,” this, in staccato tones from
+the morose old fellow in the corner who had finished his sour cabbage soup.</p>
+
+<p>“I should think he would grease their palms, by Jove,” says another; “he
+has stolen money enough, the brigand. And, only think, he was only a
+regimental Major before he came here. He’s feathered his nest. Why, a
+little while ago he was engaged to the head priest’s daughter.”</p>
+
+<p>“But he didn’t get married; they turned him off, and that shows he’s
+poor. A pretty sort of fellow to get engaged! He’s got nothing but the
+coat on his back; last year, Easter time, he lost all he had at cards.
+Fedka told me so.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, well, pals, I’ve been married myself, but it’s a bad thing for a
+poor devil; taking a wife is soon done, but the fun of it is more like
+an inch than a mile,” observes Skouratoff, who had just joined in the general talk.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you fancy we’re going to amuse ourselves by discussing <i>you</i>?” says
+the ex-quartermaster in a superior manner. “Kvassoff, I tell you you’re
+a big idiot! If you fancy that the Major can grease the palm of an
+Inspector-General you’ve got things finely muddled; d’ye fancy they send
+a man from Petersburg just to inspect your Major? You’re a precious
+dolt, my lad; take it from me that it is so.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p><p>“And you fancy because he’s a General he doesn’t take what’s offered?”
+said some one in the crowd in a sceptical tone.</p>
+
+<p>“I should think he did indeed, and plenty of it whenever he can.”</p>
+
+<p>“A dead sure thing that; gets bigger, and more, and worse, the higher the rank.”</p>
+
+<p>“A General <i>always</i> has his palm greased,” says Kvassoff, sententiously.</p>
+
+<p>“Did <i>you</i> ever give them money, as you’re so sure of it?” asks
+Baklouchin, suddenly striking in, in a tone of contempt; “come, now, did
+you ever see a General in all your life?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Liar!”</p>
+
+<p>“Liar, yourself!”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, boys, as he <i>has</i> seen a General, let him say <i>which</i>. Come,
+quick about it; I know ’em all, every man jack.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve seen General Zibert,” says Kvassoff in tones far from sure.</p>
+
+<p>“Zibert! There’s no General of that name. That’s the General, perhaps,
+who was looking at your back when they gave you the cat. This Zibert
+was, perhaps, a Lieutenant-Colonel; but you were in such a fright just
+then, you took him for a General.”</p>
+
+<p>“No! Just hear me,” cries Skouratoff, “for I’ve got a wife. There was
+really a General of that name, a German, but a Russian subject. He
+confessed to the Pope, every year, all about his peccadilloes with gay
+women, and drank water like a duck, at least forty glasses of Moskva
+water one after the other; that was the way he got cured of some
+disease. I had it from his valet.”</p>
+
+<p>“I say! And the carp didn’t swim in his belly?” this from the convict
+with the balala&iuml;ka.</p>
+
+<p>“Be quiet, fellows, can’t you&mdash;one’s talking seriously, and there they
+are beginning their nonsense again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> Who’s the ’spector that’s coming?”
+This was put by a convict who always seemed full of business, Martinof,
+an old man who had been in the Hussars.</p>
+
+<p>“Set of lying fellows!” said one of the doubters. “Lord knows where they
+get it all from; it’s all empty talk.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s nothing of the sort,” observes Koulikoff, majestically silent
+hitherto, in dogmatic tones. “The man coming is big and fat, about fifty
+years, with regular features, and proud, contemptuous manners, on which
+he prides himself.”</p>
+
+<p>Koulikoff is a Tsigan, a sort of veterinary surgeon, makes money by
+treating horses in town, and sells wine in our prison. He’s no fool,
+plenty of brain, memory well stocked, lets his words fall as carefully
+as if every one of ’em was worth a rouble.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s true,” he went on very calmly, “I heard of it only last week; it’s
+a General with bigger epaulettes than most, and he’s going to inspect
+all Siberia. They grease his palm well for him, that’s sure enough; but
+not our Major with his eight eyes in his head. He won’t dare to creep in
+about <i>him</i>, for you see, pals, there are Generals and Generals, as
+there are fagots and fagots. It’s just this, and you may take it from
+me, our Major will remain where he is. <i>We’re</i> fellows with no tongue,
+we’ve no right to speak; and as to our chiefs here, they’re not going to
+say a word against him. The ’spector will come into our jail, give a
+look round, and go off at once; he’ll say it was all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but the Major’s in a fright; he’s been drunk since morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“And this evening he had two van-loads of things taken away; Fedka says so.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may scrub a nigger, he’ll never be white. Is it the first time
+you’ve seen him drunk, hey?”</p>
+
+<p>“No! It will be a devil of a shame if the General does nothing to him,”
+said the convicts, who began to get highly excited.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p><p>The news of the arrival of the Inspector went through the prison. The
+prisoners went everywhere about the court-yard retailing the important
+fact. Some held their tongues and kept cool, trying to look important;
+some were really indifferent to it. Some of the convicts sat down on the
+steps of the doors to play the balala&iuml;ka, while some went on with their
+gossip. Some groups were singing in a drawling voice, but the whole
+court-yard was upset and excited generally.</p>
+
+<p>About nine o’clock they counted us, and quartered us in our barracks,
+which were closed for the night. A short summer night it was, so we were
+roused up at five o’clock in the morning, yet nobody had managed to
+sleep before eleven, for up to that hour there was conversation and all
+sort of movement was going on; sometimes, too, games of cards were made
+up, as in winter. The heat was intolerable, stifling. True, the open
+window let in some of the cool night air, but the convicts kept tossing
+themselves on their wooden beds as if delirious.</p>
+
+<p>Fleas countless. There were enough of them in winter; but when spring
+came they multiplied in proportions so formidable that I couldn’t
+believe it before I had to endure them. And as the summer went on the
+worse it was with them. I found out that one <i>could</i> get used to fleas;
+but for all that, the torment of them is so great that it throws you
+into a fever; even when you get slumber you quite feel it is not sleep,
+you are half delirious, and know it.</p>
+
+<p>At last, towards morning, when the enemy is tired and you are
+deliciously asleep in the freshness of the early hours, suddenly sounds
+the pitiless morning drum-call. How you curse as you hear them, those
+sharp, quick strokes; you cower in your semi-pelisse, and then&mdash;you
+can’t help it&mdash;comes the thought that it will be so to-morrow, the day
+after, for many, many years, till you are set at liberty. When <i>will</i> it
+come, this freedom, freedom? Where <i>is</i> it in this world? <i>Where</i> is it
+hiding? You <i>have</i> to get up, they are walking about you in all
+directions. The usual noisy row begins. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> convicts dress, and hurry
+to their work. It’s true you have an hour you can spend in sleep at noon.</p>
+
+<p>What we had been told about the Inspector was really true. The reports
+were more confirmed every day; and at last it became certain that a
+General, high in office, was coming from Petersburg to inspect all
+Siberia, that he was already at Tobolsk. Every day we learned something
+fresh about it. These rumours came from the town. They told us that
+there was alarm in all quarters, and that everybody was making
+preparations to show himself in as favourable a light as might be. The
+authorities were organising receptions, balls, f&ecirc;tes of every kind.
+Gangs of convicts were sent to level the ways in the fortress, smooth
+away hummocks in the ground, paint the palings and other wood-work, to
+plaster, do up, and generally repair everything that was conspicuous.</p>
+
+<p>Our prisoners perfectly well understood the object of this labour, and
+their discussions became all the more animated and excited. Their
+imaginations passed all bounds. They even set about formulating some
+demands to be set before the General on his arrival, but that did not
+prevent their going on with their quarrels and violent speeches. Our
+Major was on hot coals. He came continually to visit the jail, shouted,
+and threw himself angrily on the fellows more than usual, sent them to
+the guard-room and punishment for a mere nothing, and watched very
+severely over the cleanliness and good order of the barracks. Just then,
+there occurred a little event which did not at all painfully affect this
+officer as one might have expected, but, on the contrary, caused him a
+lively satisfaction. One of the convicts struck another with an awl
+right in the chest, in a place quite near the heart.</p>
+
+<p>The delinquent’s name was Lomof; the name the victim was known by in the
+jail was Gavrilka. He was one of those seasoned tramps I’ve spoken about
+earlier. Whether he had any other name, I don’t know; I never heard any
+attributed to him, except that one, Gavrilka.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p><p>Lomof had been a peasant comfortably off in the Government of T&mdash;&mdash;,
+and district of K&mdash;&mdash;. There were five of them living together, two
+brothers Lomof, and three sons. They were quite rich peasants; the talk
+throughout the district was that they had more than 300,000 roubles in
+paper money. They worked at currying and tanning; but their chief
+business was usury, harbouring tramps, and receiving stolen goods; all
+sorts of petty irregular doings. Half the peasants of their district
+owed them money, and so were in their clutches. They passed for being
+intelligent and full of cunning, and gave themselves very great airs. A
+great personage of their province had stopped on his way once at the
+father Lomof’s house, and this official had taken a fancy to him,
+because of his hardy and unscrupulous talk. Then they took it in their
+heads they might do exactly as they pleased, and mixed themselves up
+more and more with illegal doings. Everybody had a grievance against
+them, and would like to have seen them a hundred feet under the ground;
+but they got bolder and bolder every day. They were not afraid of the
+local police or the district tribunals.</p>
+
+<p>At last fortune betrayed them; their ruin came, not out of their secret
+crimes, but from an accusation which was all calumny and falsehood. Ten
+versts from their hamlet they had a farm where six Kirghiz labourers,
+long since brought down by them to be no better than slaves, used to
+pass the autumn. One fine day these Kirghiz were found murdered. An
+inquiry was set on foot that lasted long, thanks to which no end of
+atrocious things were brought to light. The Lomofs were accused of
+having assassinated their workmen. They had themselves told their story
+to the convicts, all the jail knew it perfectly; they were suspected of
+owing a great deal of money to the Kirghiz, and, as they were full of
+greed and avarice in spite of their large fortunes, it was believed they
+had paid the debt by taking the lives of the poor fellows. While the
+inquiry and trial went on, their property melted away utterly. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>
+father died, the sons were transported; one of these, with the uncle,
+was condemned to fifteen years of hard labour.</p>
+
+<p>Now, they were perfectly innocent of the crime imputed to them. One fine
+day Gavrilka, a thorough-paced rascal, known as a tramp, but of very gay
+and lively turn, avowed himself the author of the crime. As a matter of
+fact I don’t know whether he actually made this avowal himself, but what
+is sure is that the convicts held him to be the murderer of the Kirghiz.</p>
+
+<p>This Gavrilka, while still tramping about, had been mixed up in some way
+with the Lomofs (his confinement in one jail was for quite a short
+sentence, for desertion from the army and tramping). He had cut the
+throats of the Kirghiz&mdash;three other marauding fellows had been in it
+with him&mdash;in the hope of setting themselves up a bit with the plunder of
+the farm.</p>
+
+<p>The Lomofs were no favourites with us, I really don’t know why. One of
+them, the nephew, was a sturdy fellow, intelligent and sociable; but his
+uncle, the one that struck Gavrilka with the awl, was a choleric, stupid
+rustic, always quarrelling with the convicts, who knocked him about like
+plaster. All the jail liked Gavrilka for his gaiety and good-humour. The
+Lomofs got to know, like the rest, that he was the man who committed the
+crime they were condemned for; but they never got into any quarrel with
+him. Gavrilka paid no attention whatever to them.</p>
+
+<p>The row with Uncle Lomof began about some disgusting girl they had
+quarrelled over. Gavrilka had boasted of the favour she had shown him.
+The peasant, mad with jealousy, ended by driving an awl into his chest.</p>
+
+<p>Although the Lomofs had been ruined by their trial and sentence, they
+passed in the jail for being very rich. They had money, a samovar, and
+drank tea. Our Major knew all about it, and hated the two Lomofs,
+sparing them no vexation. The victims of his hate explained it by a
+desire to have them grease his palm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> well, but they could not, or would
+not, bring themselves to do it.</p>
+
+<p>If Uncle Lomof had struck his awl one hair’s breadth further in
+Gavrilka’s breast he would certainly have killed him; as it was, the
+wound did not much signify. The affair was reported to the Major. I
+think I see him now as he came up out of breath, but with visible
+satisfaction. He addressed Gavrilka in an affable, fatherly way:</p>
+
+<p>“Tell me, lad, can you walk to the hospital or must they carry you
+there? No, I think it will be better to have a horse; let them put a
+horse to this moment!” he cried out to the sub-officer with a gasp.</p>
+
+<p>“But I don’t feel it at all, your worship; he’s only given me a bit of a
+prick, your worship.”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t know, my dear fellow, you don’t know; you’ll see. A nasty
+place he’s struck you in. All depends upon the place. He has given it
+you just below the heart, the scoundrel. Wait, wait!” he howled to
+Lomof. “I’ve got you tight; take him to the guard-house.”</p>
+
+<p>He kept his promise. Lomof was tried, and, though the wound was slight,
+there was plainly malice aforethought; his sentence of hard labour was
+extended for several years, and they gave him a thousand strokes with
+the rod. The Major was delighted.</p>
+
+<p>The Inspector arrived at last.</p>
+
+<p>The day after he reached the town, he came to the convict establishment
+to make his inspection. It was a regular f&ecirc;te-day. For some days
+everything had been brilliantly clean, washed with great precision. The
+convicts were all just shaven, their linen quite white and without a
+stain. (According to the regulations, they wore in summer waistcoats and
+pantaloons of canvas. Every one had a round black piece sown in at the
+back, eight centimetres in diameter.) For a whole hour the prisoners had
+been drilled as to what they should answer, the very words to be used,
+particularly if the high functionary should take any notice of them.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p><p>There had been even regular rehearsals. The Major seemed to have lost
+his head. An hour before the coming in of the Inspector, all the
+convicts were at their posts, as stiff as statues, with their little
+fingers on the seams of their pantaloons. At last, just about one
+o’clock the Inspector made his entry. He was a General, with a most
+self-sufficing bearing, so much so, that the mere sight of it must have
+sent a tremor into the hearts of all the officials of West Siberia.</p>
+
+<p>He came in with a stern and majestic air, followed by a crowd of
+Generals and Colonels doing service in our town. There was a civilian,
+too, of high stature and regular features, in frock-coat and shoes. This
+personage bore himself very independently and airily, and the General
+addressed him every moment with exquisite politeness. This civilian also
+had come from Petersburg. All the convicts were terribly curious as to
+who he could be, such an important General showing him such deference?
+We learned who he was and what his office later, but he was a good deal
+talked about before we knew.</p>
+
+<p>Our Major, all spick and span, with orange-coloured collar, made no too
+favourable impression upon the General; the blood-shot eyes and fiery
+rubicund complexion plainly told their own story. Out of respect for his
+superior he had taken off his spectacles, and stood some way off, as
+straight as a dart, in feverish expectation that something would be
+asked of him, that he might run and carry out His Excellency’s wishes;
+but no particular need of his services seemed to be felt.</p>
+
+<p>The General went all through the barracks without saying a word, threw a
+glance into the kitchen, where he tasted the sour cabbage soup. They
+pointed me out to him, telling him that I was an ex-nobleman, who had
+done this, that, and the other.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” answered the General. “And how does he conduct himself?”</p>
+
+<p>“Satisfactorily for the time being, your Excellency, satisfactorily.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p><p>The General nodded, and left the jail in a couple of minutes more. The
+convicts were dazzled and disappointed, and did not know what to be at.
+As to laying complaints against the Major, that was quite over, could
+not be thought of. He had, no doubt, been quite well assured as to this beforehand.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER VI.</span> <span class="smaller">THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT</span></h3>
+
+<p>Gniedko, a bay horse, was bought a little while afterwards, and the
+event furnished a much more agreeable and interesting diversion to the
+convicts than the visit of the high personage I have been talking about.
+We required a horse at the jail for carrying water, refuse matter, etc.
+He was given to a convict to take care of and use; this man drove him,
+under escort, of course. Our horse had plenty to do morning and night;
+it was a worthy sort of beast, but a good deal worn, and had been in
+service for a long time already.</p>
+
+<p>One fine morning, the eve of St. Peter’s Day, Gniedko, our bay, who was
+dragging a barrel of water, fell all of a heap, and gave up the ghost in
+a few minutes. He was much regretted, so all the convicts gathered round
+him to discuss his death. Those who had served in the cavalry, the
+Tsigans, the veterinary fellows, and others, showed a profound knowledge
+of horses in general and fiercely argued the question; but all that did
+not bring our bay horse to life again; there he was stretched out and
+dead, with his belly all swollen. Every one thought it incumbent on him
+to feel about the poor thing with his hands; finally the Major was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>
+informed of what Providence had done in the horse’s case, and it was
+decided that another should be bought at once.</p>
+
+<p>St. Peter’s Day, quite early after mass, all the convicts being
+together, horses that were on sale were brought in. It was left to the
+prisoners to choose an animal, for there were some thorough experts
+among them, and it would have been difficult to take in 250 men, with
+whom horse-dealing had been a speciality. Tsigans, Lesghians,
+professional horse-dealers, townsmen, came in to deal. The convicts were
+exceedingly eager about the matter as each fresh horse was brought up,
+and were as amused as children about it all. It seemed to tickle their
+fancy very much, that they had to buy a horse like free men, just as if
+it was for themselves and the money was to come out of their own
+pockets. Three horses were brought and taken away before purchase; the
+fourth was settled on. The horse-dealers seemed astonished and a little
+awed at the soldiers of the escort who watched the business. Two hundred
+men, clean shaven, branded as they were, with chains on their feet, were
+well calculated to inspire respect, all the more as they were in their
+own place, at home so to speak, in their own convict’s den, where nobody
+was ever allowed to come.</p>
+
+<p>Our fellows seemed to be up to no end of tricks for finding out the real
+value of a horse brought up; they carefully examined it, handled it with
+the most serious demeanour, went on as if the welfare of the
+establishment was bound up with the purchase of this beast. The
+Circassians took the liberty of jumping upon his back: their eyes shone
+wildly, they chatted rapidly in their incomprehensible dialect, showed
+their white teeth, dilating the nostrils of their hooked copper-coloured
+noses. There were some Russians who paid the most lively attention to
+their discussion, and seemed ready to jump down their throats; they did
+not understand a word, but it was plain they did what they could to
+gather from the expression of the eyes of the fellows whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> the horse
+was good or not. But what could it matter to a convict, especially to
+some of them, who were creatures altogether down and done for, who never
+ventured to utter a single word to the others? What <i>could</i> it matter to
+such as these, whether one horse or another was bought? Yet it seemed as
+if it did. The Circassians appeared to be most relied on for their
+opinion, and besides these a foremost place in the discussion was given
+to the Tsigans, and those who had formerly been horse-dealers.</p>
+
+<p>There was a regular sort of duel between two convicts&mdash;the Tsigan
+Koulikoff, who had been a horse-dealer and stealer, and another who had
+been a professional veterinary, a tricky Siberian peasant, who had been
+at the establishment and at hard labour for some time, and who had
+succeeded in getting all Koulikoff’s practice in the town. I ought to
+mention that the veterinary practitioners at the prison, though without
+diploma, were very much sought after, and that not only the townspeople
+and tradespeople, but high officials in the city, took their advice when
+their horses fell ill, rather than that of several regularly
+diplomatised veterinaries who were at the place.</p>
+
+<p>Till Jolkin came, the Siberian peasant Koulikoff had had plenty of
+clients from whom he had had fees in good hard cash. He was looked on as
+quite at the head of his business. He was a Tsigan all over in his
+doings, liar and cheat, and not at all the master of his art he boasted
+of being. The income he made had raised him to be a sort of aristocrat
+among our convicts; he was listened to and obeyed, but he spoke little,
+and expressed an opinion only in great emergencies. He blew his own
+trumpet loudly, but he really was a fellow of great energy; he was of
+ripe age, and of quite marked intelligence. When he spoke to us of the
+nobility, he did so with exquisite politeness and perfect dignity. I am
+sure that if he had been suitably dressed, and introduced into a club at
+the capital with the title of Count, he would have lived up to it;
+played whist, talked to admiration like a man used<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> to command, and one
+who knew when to hold his tongue. I am sure that the whole evening would
+have passed without any one guessing that the “Count” was nothing but a
+vagabond. He had very probably had a very large and varied experience in
+life; as to his past, it was quite unknown to us. They kept him among
+the convicts who formed a special section reserved from the others.</p>
+
+<p>But no sooner had Jolkin come&mdash;he was a simple peasant, one of the “old
+believers,” but just as tricky as it was possible for a moujik to
+be&mdash;the veterinary glory of Koulikoff paled sensibly. In less than two
+months the Siberian had got from him all his town practice, for he cured
+in a very short time horses Koulikoff had declared incurable, and which
+had been given up by the regular veterinaries. This peasant had been
+condemned and sent to hard labour for coining. It is an odd thing he
+should ever have been tempted to go into that line of business. He told
+us all about it himself, and joked about their wanting three coins of
+genuine gold to make one false.</p>
+
+<p>Koulikoff was not a little put out at this peasant’s success, while his
+own glory so rapidly declined. There was he who had had a mistress in
+the suburbs, who used to wear a plush jacket and top-boots, and here he
+was now obliged to turn tavern-keeper; so everybody looked out for a
+regular row when the new horse was bought. The thing was very
+interesting, each of them had his partisans; the more eager among them
+got to angry words about it on the spot. The cunning face of Jolkin was
+all wrinkled into a sarcastic smile; but it turned out quite differently
+from what was expected. Koulikoff had not the least desire for argument
+or dispute, he managed cunningly without that. At first he gave way on
+every point, and listened deferentially to his rival’s criticisms, then
+he caught him up sharply on some remark or other, and pointed out to him
+modestly but firmly that he was all wrong. In a word, Jolkin was utterly
+discomfited in a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>surprisingly clever way, so Koulikoff’s side was quite
+well pleased.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, boys, it’s no use talking; you can’t trip <i>him</i> up. He knows
+what he is about,” said some.</p>
+
+<p>“Jolkin knows more about the matter than he does,” said others; not
+offensively, however. Both sides were ready to make concessions.</p>
+
+<p>“Then, he’s got a lighter hand, besides having more in his head. I tell
+you that when it comes to stock, horses, or anything else, Koulikoff
+needn’t duck under to anybody.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nor need Jolkin, I tell you.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s nobody like Koulikoff.”</p>
+
+<p>The new horse was selected and bought. It was a capital gelding&mdash;young,
+vigorous, and handsome; an irreproachable beast altogether. The
+bargaining began. The owner asked thirty roubles; the convicts wouldn’t
+give more than twenty-five. The higgling went on long and hotly. At
+length the convicts began laughing.</p>
+
+<p>“Does the money come out of your own purse?” said some. “What’s the good
+of all this?”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you want to save for the Government cashbox?” cried others.</p>
+
+<p>“But it’s money that belongs to us all, pals,” said one.</p>
+
+<p>“Us all! It’s plain enough that you needn’t trouble to grow idiots,
+they’ll come up of themselves without it.”</p>
+
+<p>At last the business was settled at twenty-eight roubles. The Major was
+informed, the purchase sanctioned. Bread and salt were brought at once,
+and the new boarder led in triumph into the jail. There was not one of
+the convicts, I think, that did not pat his neck or caress his head.</p>
+
+<p>The day we got him he was at once put to fetching water. All the
+convicts gazed on him curiously as he pulled at his barrel.</p>
+
+<p>Our waterman, the convict Roman, kept his eyes on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> the beast with a
+stupid sort of satisfaction. He was formerly a peasant, about fifty
+years of age, serious and silent, like all the Russian coachmen, whose
+behaviour would really seem to acquire some extra gravity by reason of
+their being always with horses.</p>
+
+<p>Roman was a quiet creature, affable all round, said little, took snuff
+from a box. He had taken care of the horses at the jail for some time
+before that. The one just bought was the third given into his charge
+since he came to the place.</p>
+
+<p>The coachman’s office fell, as a matter of course, to Roman; nobody
+would have dreamed of contesting his right to it. When the bay horse
+dropped and died, nobody dreamed of accusing Roman of imprudence, not
+even the Major. It was the will of God, that was all; as to Roman, he
+knew his business.</p>
+
+<p>That bay horse had become the pet of the jail at once. The convicts were
+not particularly tender fellows; but they could not help coming to pet him often.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes when Roman, returning from the river, shut the great gate
+which the sub-officer had opened, Gniedko would stand quite still
+waiting for his driver, and turning to him as for orders.</p>
+
+<p>“Get along, you know the way,” Roman would cry to him. Then Gniedko
+would go off peaceably to the kitchen and stop there, and the cooks and
+other servants of the place would fill their buckets with water, which
+Gniedko seemed to know all about.</p>
+
+<p>“Gniedko, you’re a trump! He’s brought his water-barrel himself. He’s a
+delight to see!” they would cry to him.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true; he’s only a beast, but he knows all that’s said to him.”</p>
+
+<p>“No end of a horse is our Gniedko!”</p>
+
+<p>Then the horse shook his head and snorted, just as if he really
+understood all about his being praised; then some one would bring him
+bread and salt; and when he had finished with them he would shake his
+head again,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> as if to say, “I know you; I know you. I’m a good horse,
+and you’re a good fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>I was quite fond of regaling Gniedko with bread. It was quite a pleasure
+to me to look at his nice mouth, and to feel his warm, moist lips
+licking up the crumbs from the palm of my hand.</p>
+
+<p>Our convicts were fond of live things, and if they had been allowed
+would have filled the barracks with birds and domestic animals. What
+could possibly have been better than attending to such creatures for
+raising and softening the wild temper of the prisoners? But it was not
+permitted; it was not in the regulations; and, truth to say, there was
+no room there for many creatures.</p>
+
+<p>However, in my time some animals had established themselves in the jail.
+Besides Gniedko, we had some dogs, geese, a he-goat&mdash;Vaska&mdash;and an
+eagle, which remained only a short time.</p>
+
+<p>I think I have said before that <i>our</i> dog was called Bull, and that he
+and I had struck up a friendship; but as the lower orders regard dogs as
+impure animals undeserving of attention, nobody minded him. He lived in
+the jail itself; slept in the court-yard; ate the leavings of the
+kitchen, and had no hold whatever on the sympathy of the convicts; all
+of whom he knew, however, and regarded as masters and owners. When the
+men assigned to work came back to the jail, at the cry of “Corporal,” he
+used to run to the great gate and gaily welcome the gang, wagging his
+tail and looking into every man’s eyes, as though he expected a caress.
+But for several years his little ways were as useless as they were
+engaging. Nobody but myself did caress him; so I was the one he
+preferred to all others. Somehow&mdash;I don’t know in what way&mdash;we got
+another dog. Snow he was called. As to the third, Koultiapka, I brought
+him myself to the place when he was but a pup.</p>
+
+<p>Our Snow was a strange creature. A telega had gone over him and driven
+in his spine, so that it made a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> curve inside him. When you saw him
+running at a distance, he looked like twin-dogs born with a ligament. He
+was very mangy, too, with bleary eyes, and his tail was hairless, and
+always hanging between his legs.</p>
+
+<p>Victim of ill-fate as he was, he seemed to have made up his mind to be
+always as impassive as possible; so he never barked at anybody, for he
+seemed to be afraid of getting into some fresh trouble. He was nearly
+always lurking at the back of the buildings; and if anybody came near he
+rolled on his back at once, as though he meant to say, “Do what you like
+with me; I’ve not the least idea of resisting you.” And every convict,
+when the dog upset himself like that, would give him a passing
+obligatory kick, with “Ouh! the dirty brute!” But Snow dared not so much
+as give a groan; and if he was too much hurt, would only utter a little,
+dull, strangled yelp. He threw himself down just the same way before
+Bull or any other dog when he came to try his luck at the kitchen; and
+he would stretch himself out flat if a mastiff or any other big dog came
+barking at him. Dogs like submission and humility in other dogs; so the
+angry brute quieted down at once, and stopped short reflectively before
+the poor, humble beast, and then sniffed him curiously all over.</p>
+
+<p>I wonder what poor Snow, trembling with fright, used to think at such
+moments. “Is this brigand of a fellow going to bite me?”&mdash;no doubt
+something like that. When he had sniffed enough at him, the big brute
+left him at once, having probably discovered nothing in particular. Snow
+used then to jump to his feet, and join a lot of four-footed fellows
+like him who were running down some yutchka or other.</p>
+
+<p>Snow knew quite well that no yutchka would ever condescend to the like
+of him, that she was too proud for that, but it was some consolation to
+him in his troubles to limp after her. As to decent behaviour, he had
+but a very vague notion of any such thing. Being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> totally without any
+hope in his future, his highest aim was to get a bellyful of victuals,
+and he was cynical enough in showing that it was so.</p>
+
+<p>Once I tried to caress him. This was such an unexpected and new thing to
+him that he plumped down on the ground quite helplessly, and quivered
+and whined in his delight. As I was really sorry for him I used to
+caress him often, so as soon as he caught sight of me he began to whine
+in a plaintive, tearful way. He came to his end at the back of the jail,
+in the ditch; some dogs tore him to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Koultiapka was quite a different style of dog. I don’t know why I
+brought him in from one of the workshops, where he was just born; but it
+gave me pleasure to feed him, and see him grow big. Bull took Koultiapka
+under his protection, and slept with him. When the young dog began to
+grow up, Bull was remarkably complaisant with him. He allowed the pup to
+bite his ears, and pull his skin with his teeth; he played with him as
+mature dogs are in the habit of doing with the youngsters. It was a
+strange thing, but Koultiapka never grew in height at all, only in
+length and breadth. His hide was fluffy and mouse-coloured; one of his
+ears hung down, while the other was always cocked up. He was, like all
+young dogs, ardent and enthusiastic, yelping with pleasure when he saw
+his master, and jumping up to lick his face precisely as if he said: “As
+long as he sees how delighted I am, I don’t care; let etiquette go to the devil!”</p>
+
+<p>Wherever I was, at my call, “Koultiapka,” out he came from some corner,
+dashing towards me with noisy satisfaction, making a ball of himself,
+and rolling over and over. I was exceedingly fond of the little wretch,
+and I used to fancy that destiny had reserved for him nothing but joy
+and pleasure in this world of ours; but one fine day the convict
+Neustroief, who made women’s shoes and prepared skins, cast his eye on
+him; something had evidently struck him, for he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> called Koultiapka, felt
+his skin, and turned him over on the ground in a friendly way. The
+unsuspicious dog barked with pleasure, but next day he was nowhere to be
+found. I hunted for him for some time, but in vain; at last, after two
+weeks, all was explained. Koultiapka’s natural cloak had been too much
+for Neustroief, who had flayed him to make up with the skin some boots
+of fur-trimmed velvet ordered by the young wife of some official. He
+showed them me when they were done, their inside lining was magnificent;
+all Koultiapka, poor fellow!</p>
+
+<p>A good many convicts worked at tanning, and often brought with them to
+the jail dogs with a nice skin, which soon were seen no more. They stole
+them or bought them. I remember one day I saw a couple of convicts
+behind the kitchens laying their heads together. One of them held in a
+leash a very fine black dog of particularly good breed. A scamp of a
+footman had stolen it from his master, and sold it to our shoemakers for
+thirty kopecks. They were going to hang it; that was their way of
+disposing of them; then they took the skin off, and threw the body into
+a ditch used for <i>ejecta</i>, which was in the most distant corner of the
+court, and which stank most horribly during the summer heats, for it was rarely seen to.</p>
+
+<p>I think the poor beast understood the fate in store for him. It looked
+at us one after another in a distressed, scrutinising way; at intervals
+it gave a timid little wag with its bushy tail between its legs, as
+though trying to reach our hearts by showing us every confidence. I
+hastened away from the convicts, who finished their vile work without hindrance.</p>
+
+<p>As to the geese of the establishment, they had established themselves
+there quite fortuitously. Who took care of them? To whom did they
+belong? I really don’t know; but they were a huge delight to our
+convicts, and acquired a certain fame throughout the town.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p><p>They had been hatched in the convict establishment somewhere, and their
+head-quarters was the kitchen, whence they emerged in gangs of their
+own, when the gangs of convicts went out to their work. But as soon as
+the drum beat and the prisoners massed themselves at the great gate, out
+ran the geese after them, cackling and flapping their wings, then they
+jumped one after the other over the elevated threshold of the gateway;
+while the convicts were at their work, the geese pecked about at a
+little distance from them. As soon as they had done and set out for the
+jail, again the geese joined the procession, and people who passed by
+would cry out, “I say, there are the prisoners with their friends, the
+geese!” “How did you teach them to follow you?” some one would ask.
+“Here’s some money for your geese,” another said, putting his hand in
+his pocket. In spite of their devotion to the convicts they had their
+necks twisted to make a feast at the end of the Lent of some year, I forget which.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody would ever have made up his mind to kill our goat Vaska, unless
+something particular had happened; as it did. I don’t know how it got
+into our prison, or who had brought it. It was a white kid, and very
+pretty. After some days it had won all hearts, it was diverting and
+winning. As some excuse was needed for keeping it in the jail, it was
+given out that it was quite necessary to have a goat in the stables; but
+he didn’t live there, but in the kitchen principally; and after a while
+he roamed about all over the place. The creature was full of grace and
+as playful as could be, jumped on the tables, wrestled with the
+convicts, came when it was called, and was always full of spirits and fun.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, the Lesghian Baba&iuml;, who was seated on the stone steps at
+the doors of the barracks among a crowd of other convicts, took it into
+his head to have a wrestling bout with Vaska, whose horns were pretty long.</p>
+
+<p>They butted their foreheads against one another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>&mdash;that was the way the
+convicts amused themselves with him&mdash;when all of a sudden Vaska jumped
+on the highest step, lifted himself up on his hind legs, drew his
+fore-feet to him and managed to strike the Lesghian on the back of the
+neck with all his might, and with such effect that Baba&iuml; went headlong
+down the steps to the great delight of all who were by as well as of Baba&iuml; himself.</p>
+
+<p>In a word, we all adored our Vaska. When he attained the age of puberty,
+a general and serious consultation was held, as the result of which, he
+was subjected to an operation which one of the prison veterinaries
+executed in a masterly manner.</p>
+
+<p>“Well,” said the prisoners, “he won’t have any goat-smell about him,
+that’s one comfort.”</p>
+
+<p>Vaska then began to lay on fat in the most surprising way. I must say
+that we fed him quite unconscionably. He became a most beautiful fellow,
+with magnificent horns, corpulent beyond anything. Sometimes as he
+walked, he rolled over on the ground heavily out of sheer fatness. He
+went with us out to work too, which was very diverting to the convicts
+and all others who saw; and everybody got to know Vaska, the jailbird.</p>
+
+<p>When they worked at the river bank, the prisoners used to cut willow
+branches and other foliage, and gather flowers in the ditches to
+ornament Vaska. They used to twine the branches and flowers round his
+horns and decorate his body with garlands. Vaska then came back at the
+head of the gang in a splendid state of ornamentation, and we all came
+after in high pride at seeing him such a beauty.</p>
+
+<p>This love for our goat went so far that prisoners raised the question,
+not a very wise one, whether Vaska ought not to have his horns gilded.
+It was a vain idea; nothing came of it. I asked Akim Akimitch, the best
+gilder in the jail, whether you really could gild a goat’s horns. He
+examined Vaska’s quite closely, thought a bit, and then said that it
+could be done, but that it would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> not last, and would be quite useless.
+So nothing came of it. Vaska would have lived for many years more, and,
+no doubt, have died of asthma at last, if, one day as he returned from
+work at the head of the convicts, his path had not been crossed by the
+Major, who was seated in his carriage. Vaska was in particularly gorgeous array.</p>
+
+<p>“Halt!” yelled the Major. “Whose goat is that?”</p>
+
+<p>They told him.</p>
+
+<p>“What! a goat in the prison! and that without my leave? Sub-officer!”</p>
+
+<p>The sub-officer received orders to kill the goat without a moment’s
+delay; flay him, and sell his skin; and put the proceeds to the
+prisoners’ account. As to the meat, he ordered it to be cooked with the
+convicts’ cabbage soup.</p>
+
+<p>The occurrence was much discussed; the goat was much mourned; but nobody
+dared to disobey the Major. Vaska was put to death close to the ditch I
+spoke of just now. One of the convicts bought the carcase, paying a
+rouble and fifty kopecks. With this money white bread was bought for
+everybody. The man who had bought the goat sold him at retail in a
+roasted state. The meat was delicious.</p>
+
+<p>We had also, during some time, in our prison a steppe eagle; a quite
+small species. A convict brought it in, wounded, half-dead. Everybody
+came flocking around it; it could not fly, its right wing being quite
+powerless; one of its legs was badly hurt. It gazed on the curious crowd
+wrathfully, and opened its crooked beak, as if prepared to sell its life
+dearly. When we had looked at him long enough, and the crowd dispersed,
+the lamed bird went off, hopping on one paw and flapping his wing, and
+hid himself in the most distant part of the place he could find; there
+he huddled himself in a corner against the palings.</p>
+
+<p>During the three months that he remained in our court-yard he never came
+out of his corner. At first we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> went to look at him pretty often, and
+sometimes they set Bull at him, who threw himself forward with fury, but
+was frightened to go too near, which mightily amused the convicts. “A
+wild chap that! He won’t stand any nonsense!” But Bull after a while got
+over his fright, and began to worry him. When he was roused to it, the
+dog would catch hold of the bird’s bad wing, and the creature defended
+itself with beak and claws, and then got up closer into his corner with
+a proud, savage sort of demeanour, like a wounded king, fixing his eyes
+steadily on the fellows looking at his misery.</p>
+
+<p>They tired of the sport after a while, and the eagle seemed quite
+forgotten; but there was some one who, every day, put close to him a bit
+of fresh meat and a vessel with some water. At first, and for several
+days, the eagle would eat nothing; at last, he made up his mind to take
+what was left for him, but he never could be got to take anything from
+the hand, or in public. Sometimes I succeeded in watching his
+proceedings at some distance.</p>
+
+<p>When he saw nobody, and thought he was alone, he ventured upon leaving
+his corner and limping along the palisade for a dozen steps or so, then
+went back; and so forwards and backwards, precisely as if he were taking
+exercise for his health under medical orders. As soon as ever he caught
+sight of me he made for his corner as quickly as he possibly could,
+limping and hopping. Then he threw his head back, opened his mouth,
+ruffled himself, and seemed to make ready for fight.</p>
+
+<p>In vain I tried to caress him. He bit and struggled as soon as he was
+touched. Not once did he take the meat I offered him, and all the time I
+remained by him he kept his wicked, piercing eye upon me. Lonely and
+revengeful he waited for death, defying, refusing to be reconciled with
+everything and everybody.</p>
+
+<p>At last the convicts remembered him, after two months of complete
+forgetfulness, and then they showed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> a sympathy I did not expect of
+them. It was unanimously agreed to carry him out.</p>
+
+<p>“Let him die, but let him die in freedom,” said the prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>“Sure enough, a free and independent bird like that will never get used
+to the prison,” added others.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s not like us,” said some one.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh well, he’s a bird, and we’re human beings.”</p>
+
+<p>“The eagle, pals, is the king of the woods,” began Skouratof; but that
+day nobody paid any attention to him.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, when the drum beat for beginning work, they took the
+eagle, tied his beak (for he struck a desperate attitude), and took him
+out of the prison on to the ramparts. The twelve convicts of the gang
+were extremely anxious to know where he would go to. It was a strange
+thing: they all seemed as happy as though they had themselves got their freedom.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, the wretched brute. One wants to do him a kindness, and he tears
+your hand for you by way of thanks,” said the man who held him, looking
+almost lovingly at the spiteful bird.</p>
+
+<p>“Let him fly off, Mikitka!”</p>
+
+<p>“It doesn’t suit <i>him</i> being a prisoner; give him his freedom, his jolly
+freedom.”</p>
+
+<p>They threw him from the ramparts on to the steppe. It was just at the
+end of autumn, a gray, cold day. The wind whistled on the bare steppe
+and went groaning through the yellow dried-up grass. The eagle made off
+directly, flapping his wounded wing, as if in a hurry to quit us and get
+himself a shelter from our piercing eyes. The convicts watched him
+intently as he went along with his head just above the grass.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you see him, hey?” said one very pensively.</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t look round,” said another; “he hasn’t looked behind once.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you happen to fancy he’d come back to thank us?” said a third.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p><p>“Sure enough, he’s free; he feels it. It’s <i>freedom</i>!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, freedom.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t see him any more, pals.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you about sticking there? March, march!” cried the escort, and
+all went slowly to their work.</p>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER VII.</span> <span class="smaller">GRIEVANCES</span></h3>
+
+<p>At the outset of this chapter, the editor of the “Recollections” of the
+late Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff thinks it his duty to
+communicate what follows to his readers.</p>
+
+<p>“In the first chapter of the ‘Recollections of the House of the Dead,’
+something was said about a parricide, of noble birth, who was put
+forward as an instance of the insensibility with which the convicts
+speak of the crimes they have committed. It was also stated that he
+refused altogether to confess to the authorities and the court; but
+that, thanks to the statements of persons who knew all the details of
+his case and history, his guilt was put beyond all doubt. These persons
+had informed the author of the ‘Recollections,’ that the criminal had
+been of dissolute life and overwhelmed with debts, and that he had
+murdered his father to come into the property. Besides, the whole town
+where this parricide was imprisoned told his story in precisely the same
+way, a fact of which the editor of these ‘Recollections’ has fully
+satisfied himself. It was further stated that this murderer, even when
+in the jail, was of quite a joyous and cheerful frame of mind, a sort of
+inconsiderate giddy-pated person, although<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> intelligent, and that the
+author of the ‘Recollections’ had never observed any particular signs of
+cruelty about him, to which he added, ‘So I, for my part, never could
+bring myself to believe him guilty.’</p>
+
+<p>“Some time ago the editor of the ‘Recollections of the House of the
+Dead,’ had intelligence from Siberia of the discovery of the innocence
+of this ‘parricide,’ and that he had undergone ten years of the
+imprisonment with hard labour for nothing; this was recognised and
+avowed by the authorities. The real criminals had been discovered and
+had confessed, and the unfortunate man in question set at liberty. All
+this stands upon unimpeachable and authoritative grounds.”</p>
+
+<p>To say more would be useless. The tragical facts speak too clearly for
+themselves. All words are weak in such a case, where a life has been
+ruined by such an accusation. Such mistakes as these are among the
+dreadful possibilities of life, and such possibilities impart a keener
+and more vivid interest to the “Recollections of the House of the Dead,”
+which dreadful place we see may contain innocent as well as guilty men.</p>
+
+<p>To continue. I have said that I became at last, in some sense,
+accustomed, if not reconciled, to the conditions of convict life; but it
+was a long and dreadful time before I was. It took me nearly a year to
+get used to the prison, and I shall always regard this year as the most
+dreadful of my life, it is graven deep in my memory, down to the very
+least details. I think that I could minutely recall the events and
+feelings of each successive hour in it.</p>
+
+<p>I have said that the other prisoners, too, found it as difficult as I
+did to get used to the life they had to lead. During the whole of this
+first year, I used to ask myself whether they were really as calm as
+they seemed to be. Questions of this kind pressed themselves upon me. As
+I have mentioned before, all the convicts felt themselves in an alien
+element to which they could not reconcile themselves. The sense of home
+was an impossibility;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> they felt as if they were staying, as a stage
+upon a journey, in an evil sort of inn. These men, exiles for and from
+life, seemed either in a perpetual smouldering agitation, or else in
+deep depression; but there was not one who had not his ordinary ideas of
+one thing or another. This restlessness, which, if it did not come to
+the surface, was still unmistakable; those vague hopes of the poor
+creatures which existed in spite of themselves, hopes so ill-founded
+that they were more like the promptings of incipient insanity than aught
+else; all this stamped the place with a character, an originality,
+peculiarly its own. One could not but feel when one went there that
+there was nothing like it anywhere else in the whole world. There
+everybody went about in a sort of waking dream; nor was there anything
+to relieve or qualify the impressions the place made on the system of
+every man; so that all seemed to suffer from a sort of hyper&aelig;sthetic
+neurosis, and this dreaming of impossibilities gave to the majority of
+the convicts a sombre and morose aspect, for which the word morbid is
+not strong enough. Nearly all were taciturn and irascible, preferring to
+keep to themselves the hopes they secretly and vainly cherished. The
+result was, that anything like ingenuousness or frank statement was the
+object of general contempt. Precisely because these wild hopings were
+impossible, and, despite themselves, were felt to be so, confessed to
+their more lucid selves to be so, they kept them jealously concealed in
+the most secret recesses of their souls; while to renounce them was
+beyond their powers of self-control. It may be they were ashamed of
+their imagination. God knows. The Russian character is, in its normal
+conditions, so positive and sober in its way of looking at life, so
+pitiless in criticism of its own weaknesses.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps it was this inward misery of self-dissatisfaction which was at
+the bottom of the impatience and intolerance the convicts showed among
+themselves, and of the cruel biting things they said to each other. If
+one of them, more na&iuml;ve or impartial than the rest,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> put into words what
+every one of them had in his mind, painted his castles in the air, told
+his dreams of liberty, or plans of escape, they shut him up with brutal
+promptitude, and made the poor fellow’s life a burden to him with their
+sarcasms and jests. And I think those did it most unscrupulously who had
+perhaps themselves gone furthest in cherishing futile hopes, and
+indulging in senseless expectations. I have said, more than once, that
+those among them who were marked by simplicity and candour were looked
+on rather as being stupid and idiotic; there was nothing but contempt
+for them. The convicts were so soured and, in the wrong sense,
+sensitive, that they positively hated anything like amiability or
+unselfishness. I should be disposed to classify them all broadly, as
+either good or bad men, morose or cheerful, putting by themselves, as a
+sort of separate creatures, the ingenious fellows who could not hold
+their tongues. But the sour-tempered were in far the greatest majority;
+some of these were talkative, but these were usually of slanderous and
+envious disposition, always poking their noses into other people’s
+business, though they took good care not to let anybody have a glimpse
+of the secret thoughts of their <i>own</i> souls; that would have been
+against the fashions and conventions of this strange, little world. As
+to the fellows who were really good&mdash;very few indeed were they&mdash;these
+were always very quiet and peaceable, and buried their hopes, if they
+had any, in strict silence; but more of real faith went with their hopes
+than was the case with the gloomy-minded among the convicts. Stay, there
+was one category further among our convicts, which ought not to be
+forgotten; the men who had lost all hope, who were despairing and
+desperate, like the old man of Starodoub; but these were very few indeed.</p>
+
+<p>The old man of Starodoub! This was a very subdued, quiet, old man; but
+there were some indications<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> of what went on in him, which he could not
+help giving, and from which, I could not help seeing, that his inward
+life was one of intolerable horror; still he had <i>something</i> to fall
+back upon for help and consolation&mdash;prayer, and the notion that he was a
+martyr. The convict who was always reading the Bible, of whom I spoke
+earlier, the one that went mad and threw himself, brick in hand, upon
+the Major, was also probably one of those whom hope had altogether
+abandoned; and, as it is perfectly impossible to go on living without
+hope of some sort, he threw away his life as a sort of voluntary
+sacrifice. He declared that he attacked the Major though he had no
+grievance in particular; all he wanted was to have some torments inflicted on himself.</p>
+
+<p>Now, what sort of psychological operation had been going on in <i>that</i>
+man’s soul? No man lives, can live, without having <i>some</i> object in
+view, and making efforts to attain that object. But when object there is
+none, and hope is entirely fled, anguish often turns a man into a
+monster. The object <i>we</i> all had in view was liberty, and getting out of
+our place of confinement and hard labour.</p>
+
+<p>So I try to place our convicts in separately-defined classes and
+categories; but it cannot well be done. Reality is a thing of infinite
+diversity, and defies the most ingenious deductions and definitions of
+abstract thought, nay, abhors the clear and precise classifications we
+so delight in. Reality tends to infinite subdivision of things, and
+truth is a matter of infinite shadings and differentiations. Every one
+of us who were there had his own peculiar, interior, strictly personal
+life, which lay altogether outside of the world of regulations and our
+official superintendence.</p>
+
+<p>But, as I have said before, I could not penetrate the depths of this
+interior life in the early part of my prison career, for everything that
+met my eyes, or challenged my attention in any way, filled me with a
+sadness for which there are no words. Sometimes I felt nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> short of
+hatred for poor creatures whose martyrdom was at least as great as mine.
+In those first days I envied them, because they were among persons of
+their own sort, and understood one another; so I thought, but the truth
+was that their enforced companionship, the comradeship where the word of
+command went with the whip or the rod, was as much an object of aversion
+to them as it was to myself, and every one of them tried to keep himself
+as much to himself as possible. This envious hatred of them, which came
+to me in moments of irritation, was not without its reasonable cause,
+for those who tell you so confidently that a cultivated man of the
+higher class does not suffer as a mere peasant does, are utterly in the
+wrong. That is a thing I have often heard said, and read too. In the
+abstract, the notion seems correct, and it is founded in generous
+sentiment, for all convicts are human beings alike; but in reality it is
+different. In the real living facts of the problem there come in a
+quantity of practical complications, and only experience can pronounce
+upon these: experience which I have had. I do not mean to lay it down
+peremptorily, that the nobleman and the man of culture feel more
+acutely, sensitively, deeply, because of their more highly developed
+conditions of being. On the other hand, it is impossible to bring all
+souls to one common level or standard; neither the grade of education,
+nor any other thing, furnishes a standard according to which punishment
+can be meted out.</p>
+
+<p>It is a great satisfaction to me to be able to say that among these
+dreadful sufferers, in a state of things so barbarous and abject, I
+found abundant proof that the elements of moral development were not
+wanting. In our convict establishment there were men whom I was familiar
+with for several years, and whom I looked upon as wild beasts and
+abhorred as such; well, all of a sudden, when I least expected it, these
+very men would exhibit such an abundance of feeling of the best kind, so
+keen a comprehension of the sufferings of others, seen in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> the light of
+the consciousness of their own, that one might almost fancy scales had
+fallen from their eyes. So sudden was it as to cause stupefaction; one
+could scarcely believe one’s eyes or ears. Sometimes it was just the
+other way: educated men, well brought up, would occasionally display a
+savage, cynical brutality which nearly turned one’s stomach, conduct of
+a kind impossible to excuse or justify, however much you might be
+charitably inclined to do so.</p>
+
+<p>I lay no stress on the entire change in the habits of life, the food,
+etc., as to which there come in points where the man of the higher
+classes suffers so much more keenly than the peasant or working man, who
+often goes hungry when free, while he always has his stomach-full in
+prison. We will leave all that out. Let it be admitted that for a man
+with some force of character these external things are a trifle in
+comparison with privations of a quite different kind; for all that, such
+total change of material conditions and habits is neither an easy nor a
+slight thing. But in the convict’s <i>status</i> there are elements of horror
+before which all other horrors pale, even the mud and filth everywhere
+about, the scantiness and uncleanness of the food, the irons on your
+limbs, the suffocating sense of being always held tight, as in a vice.</p>
+
+<p>The capital, the most important point of all is, that after a couple of
+hours or so, every new-comer to a convict establishment, who is of the
+lower class, shakes down into equality with the rest; he is <i>at home</i>
+among them, he has his “freedom” of this city of the enslaved, this
+community of convicted scoundrels, in which one man is superficially
+like every other man; he understands and is understood, he is looked
+upon by everybody as <i>one of themselves</i>. Now all this is <i>not</i> so in
+the case of the nobleman. However kindly, just-minded, intelligent a man
+of the higher class may be, every soul there will hate and despise him
+during long years; they will neither understand nor believe in him, not
+one whit. He will be neither friend nor comrade in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> eyes; if he
+can get them to stop insulting him it will be as much as he can do, but
+he will be alien to them from the first to the last, he will have to
+feel the grief of a ceaseless, hopeless, causeless solitude and
+sequestration. Sometimes it is the case that sheer ill-will on the part
+of the prisoners has nothing to do with bringing about this state of
+things, it simply cannot be helped; the nobleman is not one of the gang,
+and there’s the whole secret.</p>
+
+<p>There is nothing more horrible than to live out of the social sphere to
+which you properly belong. The peasant, transported from Taganrog to
+Petropavlosk, finds there Russian peasants like himself; between him and
+them there can be mutual intelligence; in an hour they will be friends,
+and live comfortably together in the same izba or the same barrack. With
+the nobleman it is wholly otherwise; a bottomless abyss separates him
+from the lower classes, <i>how</i> deep and impassable is only seen when a
+nobleman forfeits his position and becomes as one of the populace
+himself. You may be your whole life in daily relations with the peasant,
+forty years you may do business with him regularly as the day comes&mdash;let
+us suppose it so, at all events&mdash;by the calls of official position or
+administrative duty; you may be his benefactor, all but a father to
+him&mdash;well, you’ll never know what is at the bottom of the man’s mind or
+heart. You may think you know something about him, but it is all optical
+illusion, nothing more. My readers will charge me with exaggeration, but
+I am convinced I am quite right. I don’t go on theory or book-reading in
+this; in my case the realities of life have given me only too ample time
+and opportunity for reviewing and correcting my theoretic convictions,
+which, as to this, are now fixed. Perhaps everybody will some day learn
+how well founded I am in what I say about this.</p>
+
+<p>All this was theory when I first went into the convict establishment,
+but events, and things observed, soon came to confirm me in such views,
+and what I experienced so affected my system as to undermine its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span>
+health. During the first summer I wandered about the place, so far as I
+was free to move, a solitary, friendless man. My moral situation was
+such that I could not distinguish those among the convicts who, in the
+sequel, managed to care for me a little in spite of the distance that
+always remained between us. There <i>were</i> there men of my own position,
+ex-nobles like myself, but their companionship was repugnant to me.</p>
+
+<p>Here is one of the incidents which obliged me to see at the outset, how
+solitary a creature I was, and all the strangeness of my position at the
+place. One day in August, a fine warm day, about one o’clock in the
+afternoon, a time when, as a rule, everybody took a nap before resuming
+work, the convicts rose as one man and massed themselves in the
+court-yard. I had not the slightest idea, up to that moment, that
+anything was going on. So deeply had I been sunk in my own thoughts,
+that I saw nearly nothing of what was happening about me of any kind.
+But it seems that the convicts had been in a smouldering sort of unusual
+agitation for three days. Perhaps it had begun sooner; so I thought
+later when I remembered stray remarks, bits of talk that had come to my
+ears, the palpable increase of ill-humour among the prisoners, their
+unusual irritability for some time past. I had attributed it all to the
+trying summer work, the insufferably long days; to their dreamings about
+the woods, and freedom, which the season brought up; to the nights too
+short for rest. It may be that all these things came together to form a
+mass of discontent, that only wanted a tolerably good reason for
+exploding; it was found in the food.</p>
+
+<p>For several days the convicts had not concealed their dissatisfaction
+with it in open talk in their barracks, and they showed it plainly when
+assembled for dinner or supper; one of the cooks had been changed, but,
+after a couple of days, the new comer was sent to the right-about, and
+the old one brought back. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>restlessness and ill-humour were general;
+mischief was brewing.</p>
+
+<p>“Here are we slaving to death, and they give us nothing but filth to
+eat,” grumbled one in the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>“If you don’t like it, why don’t you order jellies and blanc-mange?” said another.</p>
+
+<p>“Sour cabbage soup, why, that’s <i>good</i>. I delight in it; there’s nothing
+more juicy,” exclaimed a third.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, if they gave you nothing but beef, beef, beef, for ever and ever,
+would you like <i>that</i>?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, yes; they ought to give us meat,” said a fourth; “one’s almost
+killed at the workshops; and, by heaven! when one has got through with
+work there one’s hungry, hungry; and you don’t get anything to satisfy your hunger.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s true, the victuals are simply damnable.”</p>
+
+<p>“He fills his pockets, don’t you fear!”</p>
+
+<p>“It isn’t your business.”</p>
+
+<p>“Whose business is it? My belly’s my own. If we were all to make a row
+about it together, you’d soon see.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Haven’t we been beaten enough for complaining, dolt that you are?”</p>
+
+<p>“True enough! What’s done in a hurry is never well done. And how would
+you set about making a raid over it, tell me that?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll tell you, by God! If everybody will go, I’ll go too, for I’m just
+dying of hunger. It’s all very well for those who eat at a better table,
+apart, to keep quiet; but those who eat the regulation food&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a fellow with eyes that do their work, bursting with envy <i>he</i>
+is. Don’t his eyes glisten when he sees something that doesn’t belong to him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, pals, why don’t we make up our minds? Have we gone through
+enough? They flay us, the brigands! Let’s go at them.”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p><p>“What’s the good? I tell you ye must chew what they give you, and stuff
+your mouth full of it. Look at the fellow, he wants people to chew his
+food for him. We’re in prison, and have got to stand it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that’s it; we’re in prison.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s it always; the people die of hunger, and the Government fills its belly.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true. Our eight-eyes (<i>the Major</i>) has got finely fat over it;
+he’s bought a pair of gray horses.”</p>
+
+<p>“He don’t like his glass at all, that fellow,” said a convict ironically.</p>
+
+<p>“He had a bout at cards a little while ago with the vet; for two hours
+he played without a half-penny in his pocket. Fedka told me so.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s why we get cabbage soup that’s fit for nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re all idiots! It doesn’t matter; <i>nothing</i> matters.”</p>
+
+<p>“I tell you if we all join in complaining we shall see what he has to
+say for himself. Let’s make up our minds.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Say</i> for himself? You’ll get his fist on your pate; that’s just all.”</p>
+
+<p>“I tell you they’ll have him up, and try him.”</p>
+
+<p>All the prisoners were in great agitation; the truth is, the food was
+execrable. The general anguish, suffering, and suspense seemed to be
+coming to a head. Convicts are, by disposition, or, as such, quarrelsome
+and rebellious; but a general revolt is rare, for they can never agree
+upon it; we all of us felt that since there was, as a rule, more violent
+talk than doing.</p>
+
+<p>This time, however, the agitation did not fall to the ground. The men
+gathered in groups in their barracks, talking things over in a violent
+way, and going over all the particulars of the Major’s misdoings, and
+trying to get to the bottom of them. In all affairs of that sort there
+are ringleaders and firebrands. The ringleaders on such occasions are
+generally rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> remarkable fellows, not only in convict
+establishments, but among all large organisations of workmen, military
+detachments, etc. They are always people of a peculiar type,
+enthusiastic men, who have a thirst for justice, very na&iuml;ve, simple, and
+strong, convinced that their desires are fully capable of realisation;
+they have as much sense as other people; some are of high intelligence;
+but they are too full of warmth and zeal to measure their acts. When you
+come across people who really do know how to direct the masses, and get
+what they want, you find a quite different sort of popular leaders, and
+one excessively rare among us Russians. The more usual type of leader,
+the one I first alluded to, does certainly in some sense accomplish
+their object, so far as bringing about a rising is concerned; but it all
+ends in filling up the prisons and convict establishments. Thanks to
+their impetuosity they always come off second-best; but it is this
+impetuosity that gives them their influences over the masses; their
+ardent, honest indignation does its work, and draws in the more
+irresolute. Their blind confidence of success seduces even the most
+hardened sceptics, although this confidence is generally based on such
+uncertain, childish reasons that it is wonderful how people can put faith in them.</p>
+
+<p>The secret of their influence is that they put themselves at the head,
+and <i>go</i> ahead, without flinching. They dash forward, heads down, often
+without the least knowledge worth the name of what they are about, and
+have nothing about them of the jesuitical practical faculty by dint of
+which a vile and worthless man often hits his mark and comes uppermost,
+and will sometimes come all white out of a tub of ink. They <i>must</i> dash
+their skulls against stone walls. Under ordinary circumstances these
+people are bilious, irascible, intolerant, contemptuous, often very
+warm, which really after all is part of the secret of their strength.
+The deplorable thing is that they never go at what is the essential, the
+vital part of their task, they always go off at once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> into details
+instead of going straight to their mark, and this is their ruin. But
+they and the mob understand one another; that makes them formidable.</p>
+
+<p>I must say a few words about this word “grievance.”</p>
+
+<p class="tbrk">&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p>Some of the convicts had been transported in connection with a
+“grievance;” these were the most excited among them, notably a certain
+Martinoff, who had formerly served in the Hussars, an eager, restless,
+and choleric, but a worthy and truthful, fellow. Another, Vassili
+Antonoff, could work himself up into anger coolly and collectedly; he
+had a generally impudent expression, and a sarcastic smile, but he, too,
+was honest, and a man of his word, and of no little education. I won’t
+enumerate; there were plenty of them. Petroff went about in a hurried
+way from one group to another. He spoke few words, but he was quite as
+highly excited as any one there, for he was the first to spring out of
+the barrack when the others massed themselves in the court-yard.</p>
+
+<p>Our sergeant, who acted as sergeant-major, came up very soon in quite a
+fright. The convicts got into rank, and politely begged him to tell the
+Major that they wanted to speak with him and put him a few questions.
+Behind the sergeant came all the invalids, who ranked themselves in face
+of the convicts. What they asked the sergeant to do frightened the man
+out of his wits almost, but he dared not refuse to go and report to the
+Major, for if the convicts mutinied, God only knows what might happen.
+All the men set over us showed themselves great poltroons in handling
+the prisoners; then, even if nothing further worse happened, if the
+convicts thought better of it and dispersed, the sub-officer was still
+in duty bound to inform the authorities of what had been going on. Pale,
+and trembling with fright, he went headlong to the Major, without even
+an effort to bring the convicts to reason. He saw that they were not
+minded to put up with any of his talk, no doubt.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p><p>Without the least idea of what was going on, I went into rank myself
+(it was only later that I heard the earlier details of the story). I
+thought that the muster-roll was to be called, but I did not see the
+soldiers who verify the lists, so I was surprised, and began to look
+about me a little. The men’s faces were working with emotion, and some
+were ghostly pale. They were sternly silent, and seemed to be thinking
+of what they should say to the Major. I observed that many of the
+convicts seemed to wonder at seeing me among them, but they turned their
+glances away from me. No doubt they thought it strange that I should
+come into the ranks with them, and join in their remonstrances, and
+could not quite believe it. Then they turned round to me again in a
+questioning sort of way.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing here?” said Vassili Antonoff, in a loud, rude voice;
+he happened to be close to me, and a little way from the rest; the man
+had always hitherto been scrupulously polite to me.</p>
+
+<p>I looked at him in perplexity, trying to understand what he meant by it;
+I began to see that something extraordinary was up in our prison.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, indeed, what are you about here? Go off into the barrack,” said a
+young fellow, a soldier-convict, whom I did not know till then, and who
+was a good, quiet lad, “this is none of <i>your</i> business.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have we not fallen into rank,” I answered, “aren’t we going to be mustered?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, <i>he’s</i> come, too,” cried one of them.</p>
+
+<p>“Iron-nose,”<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> said another.</p>
+
+<p>“Fly-killer,” added a third, with inexpressible contempt for me in his
+tone. This new nickname caused a general burst of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>“These fellows are in clover everywhere. We are in prison, with hard
+labour, I rather fancy; they get wheat-bread and sucking-pig, like great
+lords as they are. Don’t you get your victuals by yourself? What are you doing here?”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p><p>“Your place is not here,” said Koulikoff to me brusquely, taking me by
+the hand and leading me out of the ranks.</p>
+
+<p>He was himself very pale; his dark eyes sparkled with fire, he had
+bitten his under lip till the blood came; he wasn’t one of those who
+expected the Major without losing self-possession.</p>
+
+<p>I liked to look at Koulikoff when he was in trying circumstances like
+these; then he showed himself just what he was in his strong points and
+weak. He attitudinised, but he knew how to act, too. I think he would
+have gone to his death with a certain affected elegance. While everybody
+was insulting me in words and tones, his politeness was greater than
+ever; but he spoke in a firm and resolved tone which admitted of no reply.</p>
+
+<p>“We are here on business of our own, Alexander Petrovitch, and you’ve
+got to keep out of it. Go where you like and wait till it’s over ...
+here, your people are in the kitchens, go there.”</p>
+
+<p>“They’re in hot quarters down there.”</p>
+
+<p>I did in fact see our Poles at the open window of the kitchen, in
+company with a good many other convicts. I did not well know what to be
+at; but went there followed by laughter, insulting remarks, and that
+sort of muttered growling which is the prison substitute for the
+hissings and cat-calls of the world of freedom.</p>
+
+<p>“He doesn’t like it at all! Chu, chu, chu! Seize him!”</p>
+
+<p>I had never been so bitterly insulted since I was in the place. It was a
+very painful moment, but just what was to be expected in the excessive
+excitement the men were labouring under. In the ante-room I met T&mdash;vski,
+a young nobleman of not much information, but of firm, generous
+character; the convicts excepted him from the hatred they felt for the
+convicts of noble birth; they were almost fond of him;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> every one of his
+gestures denoted the brave and energetic man.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you about, Goriantchikoff?” he cried to me; “come here, come here!”</p>
+
+<p>“But what is <i>it</i> all about?”</p>
+
+<p>“They are going to make a formal complaint, don’t you know it? It won’t
+do them a bit of good; who’ll pay any attention to convicts? They’ll try
+to find out the ringleaders, and if we are among them they’ll lay it all
+on us. Just remember what we have been transported for. They’ll only get
+a whipping, but we shall be put regularly to trial. The Major detests us
+all, and will be only too happy to ruin us; all his sins will fall on our shoulders.”</p>
+
+<p>“The convicts would tie us hands and feet and sell us directly,” added
+M&mdash;tski, when we got into the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll never have mercy on <i>us</i>,” added T&mdash;vski.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the nobles there were in the kitchen about thirty other
+prisoners who did not want to join in the general complaints, some
+because they were afraid, others because of their conviction that the
+whole proceeding would prove quite useless. Akim Akimitch, who was a
+decided opponent of everything that savoured of complaint, or that could
+interfere with discipline and the usual routine, waited with great
+phlegm to see the end of the business, about which he did not care a
+jot. He was perfectly convinced that the authorities would put it all down immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Isaiah Fomitch’s nose drooped visibly as he listened in a sort of
+frightened curiosity to what we said about the affair; he was much
+disturbed. With the Polish nobles were some inferior persons of the same
+nation, as well as some Russians, timid, dull, silent fellows, who had
+not dared to join the rest, and who waited in a melancholy way to see
+what the issue would be. There were also some morose, discontented
+convicts, who remained in the kitchen, not because they were afraid, but
+that they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> thought this half-revolt an absurdity which could not
+succeed; it seemed to me that these were not a little disturbed, and
+their faces were quite unsteady. They saw clearly that they were in the
+right, and that the issue of the movement would be what they had
+foretold, but they had a sort of feeling that they were traitors who had
+sold their comrades to the Major. Jolkin&mdash;the long-headed Siberian
+peasant sent to hard labour for coining, the man who got Koulikoff’s
+town practice from him&mdash;was there also, as well as the old man of
+Starodoub. None of the cooks had left their post, perhaps because they
+looked upon themselves as belonging specially to the authorities of the
+place, whom it would be unbecoming, therefore, to join in opposing.</p>
+
+<p>“For all that,” said I to M&mdash;tski, “except these fellows, all the
+convicts are in it,” and no doubt I said it in a way that showed misgivings.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder what in the world <i>we</i> have to do with it?” growled B&mdash;&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>“We should have risked a good deal more than they had we gone with them;
+and why? <i>Je hais ces brigands.</i><a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> Why, do you think that they’ll bring
+themselves up to the scratch after all? I can’t see what they want
+putting their heads in the lion’s mouth, the fools.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’ll all come to nothing,” said some one, an obstinate, sour-tempered
+old fellow. Almazoff, who was with us too, agreed heartily in this.</p>
+
+<p>“Some fifty of them will get a good beating, and that’s all the good
+they’ll all get out of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Here’s the Major!” cried one; everybody ran to the windows.</p>
+
+<p>The Major had come up, spectacles and all, looking as wicked as might
+be, towering with passion, red as a turkey-cock. He came on without a
+word, and in a determined manner, right up to the line of the convicts.
+In conjunctures of this sort he showed uncommon pluck and presence of
+mind; but it ought not to be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span>overlooked that he was nearly always
+half-seas over. Just then his greasy cap, with its yellow border, and
+his tarnished silver epaulettes, gave him a Mephistophelic look in my
+excited fancy. Behind him came the quartermaster, Diatloff, who was
+quite a personage in the establishment, for he was really at the bottom
+of all the authorities did. He was an exceedingly capable and cunning
+fellow, and wielded great influence with the Major. He was not by any
+means a bad sort of man, and the convicts were, in a general way, not
+ill-inclined towards him. Our sergeant followed him with three or four
+soldiers, no more; he had already had a tremendous wigging, and there
+was plenty more of the same to come, if he knew it. The convicts, who
+had remained uncovered, cap in hand, from the moment they sent for the
+Major, stiffened themselves, every man shifting his weight to the other
+leg; then they remained motionless, and waited for the first word, or
+the first shout rather, to come from him.</p>
+
+<p>They had not long to wait. Before he had got more than one word out, the
+Major began to shout at the top of his voice; he was beside himself with
+rage. We saw him from the windows running all along the line of
+convicts, dashing at them here and there with angry questions. As we
+were a pretty good distance off, we could not hear what he said or their
+replies. We only heard his shouts, or rather what seemed shouting,
+groaning, and grunting beautifully mingled.</p>
+
+<p>“Scoundrels! mutineers! to the cat with ye! Whips and sticks! The
+ringleaders? <i>You’re</i> one of the ringleaders!” throwing himself on one of them.</p>
+
+<p>We did not hear the answer; but a minute after we saw this convict leave
+the ranks and make for the guard-house.</p>
+
+<p>Another followed, then a third.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll have you up, every man of you. I’ll&mdash;&mdash; Who’s in the kitchen
+there?” he bawled, as he saw us at the open windows. “Here with all of
+you! Drive ’em all out, every man!”</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p><p>Diatloff, the quartermaster, came towards the kitchens. When we had
+told him that <i>we</i> were not complaining of any grievance, he returned,
+and reported to the Major at once.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, those fellows are not in it,” said he, lowering his tone a bit, and
+much pleased. “Never mind, bring them along here.”</p>
+
+<p>We left the kitchen. I could not help feeling humiliation; all of us
+went along with our heads down.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, Prokofief! Jolkin too; and you, Almazof! Here, come here, all the
+lump of you!” cried the Major to us, with a gasp; but he was somewhat
+softened, his tone was even obliging. “M&mdash;tski, you’re here too?... Take
+down the names. Diatloff, take down all the names, the grumblers in one
+list and the contented ones in another&mdash;all, without exception; you’ll
+give me the list. I’ll have you all before the Committee of
+Superintendence.... I’ll ... brigands!”</p>
+
+<p>This word “<i>list</i>” told.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve nothing to complain of!” cried one of the malcontents, in a
+half-strangled sort of voice.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, you’ve nothing to complain of! <i>Who’s</i> that? Let all those who have
+nothing to complain of step out of the ranks.”</p>
+
+<p>“All of us, all of us!” came from some others.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, the food is all right, then? You’ve been put up to it. Ringleaders,
+mutineers, eh? So much the worse for them.”</p>
+
+<p>“But, what do you mean by that?” came from a voice in the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the fellow that said that?” roared the Major, throwing himself
+to where the voice came from. “It was you, Rastorgou&iuml;ef, you; to the
+guard-house with you.”</p>
+
+<p>Rastorgou&iuml;ef, a young, chubby fellow of high stature, left the ranks and
+went with slow steps to the guard-house. It was not he who had said it,
+but, as he was called out, he did not venture to contradict.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p><p>“You fellows are too fat, that’s what makes you unruly!” shouted the
+Major. “You wait, you hulking rascal, in three days you’d&mdash;&mdash; Wait! I’ll
+have it out with you all. Let all those who have nothing to complain of
+come out of the ranks, I say&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re not complaining of anything, your worship,” said some of the
+convicts with a sombre air; the rest preserved an obstinate silence. But
+the Major wanted nothing further; it was his interest to stop the thing
+with as little friction as might be.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, <i>now</i> I see! <i>Nobody</i> has anything to complain of,” said he. “I
+knew it, I saw it all. It’s ringleaders, there are ringleaders, by God,”
+he went on, speaking to Diatloff. “We must lay our hands on them, every
+man of them. And now&mdash;now&mdash;it’s time to go to your work. Drummer, there;
+drummer, a roll!”</p>
+
+<p>He told them off himself in small detachments. The convicts dispersed
+sadly and silently, only too glad to get out of his sight. Immediately
+after the gangs went off, the Major betook himself to the guard-house,
+where he began to make his dispositions as to the “ringleaders,” but he
+did not push matters far. It was easy to see that he wanted to be done
+with the whole business as soon as possible. One of the men charged told
+us later that he had begged for forgiveness, and that the officer had
+let him go immediately. There can be no doubt that our Major did not
+feel firm in the saddle; he had had a fright, I fancy, for a mutiny is
+always a ticklish thing, and although this complaint of the convicts
+about the food did not amount really to mutiny (only the Major had been
+reported to about it, and the Governor himself), yet it was an
+uncomfortable and dangerous affair. What gave him most anxiety was that
+the prisoners had been unanimous in their movement, so their discontent
+had to be got over somehow, at any price. The ringleaders were soon set
+free. Next day the food was passable, but this improvement did not last
+long; on the days ensuing the disturbance, the Major went about the
+prison<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> much more than usual, and always found something irregular to be
+stopped and punished. Our sergeant came and went in a puzzled, dazed
+sort of way, as if he could not get over his stupefaction at what had
+happened. As to the convicts, it took long for them to quiet down again,
+but their agitation seemed to wear quite a different character; they
+were restless and perplexed. Some went about with their heads down,
+without saying a word; others discussed the event in a grumbling,
+helpless kind of way. A good many said biting things about their own
+proceedings as though they were quite out of conceit with themselves.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, pal, take and eat!” said one.</p>
+
+<p>“Where’s the mouse that was so ready to bell the cat?”</p>
+
+<p>“Let’s think ourselves lucky that he did not have us all well beaten.”</p>
+
+<p>“It would be a good deal better if you thought more and chattered less.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do <i>you</i> mean by lecturing me? Are you schoolmaster here, I’d like
+to know?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, you want putting to the right-about.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who are you, I’d like to know?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m a man! What are you?”</p>
+
+<p>“A man! You’re&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“I say! Shut up, do! What’s the good of all this row?” was the cry from all sides.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening of the day the “mutiny” took place, I met Petroff behind
+the barracks after the day’s work. He was looking for me. As he came
+near me, I heard him exclaim something, which I didn’t understand, in a
+muttering sort of way; then he said no more, and walked by my side in a
+listless, mechanical fashion.</p>
+
+<p>“I say, Petroff, your fellows are not vexed with us, are they?”</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s vexed?” he asked, as if coming to himself.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p><p>“The convicts with us&mdash;with us nobles.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why should they be vexed?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, because we did not back them up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, why should you have kicked up a dust?” he answered, as if trying to
+enter into my meaning: “you have a table to yourselves, you fellows.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, well, there are some of you, not nobles, who don’t eat the
+regulation food, and who went in with you. We ought to back you up,
+we’re in the same place; we ought to be comrades.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I <i>say</i>. Are you our comrades?” he asked, with unfeigned astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>I looked at him; it was clear that he had not the least comprehension of
+my meaning; but I, on the other hand, entered only too thoroughly into
+his. I saw now, quite thoroughly, something of which I had before only a
+confused idea; what I had before guessed at was now sad certainty.</p>
+
+<p>It was forced on my perceptions that any sort of real fellowship between
+the convicts and myself could never be; not even were I to remain in the
+place as long as life should last. I was a convict of the “special
+section,” a creature for ever apart. The expression of Petroff when he
+said, “are we comrades, how can that be?” remains, and will always
+remain before my eyes. There was a look of such frank, na&iuml;ve surprise in
+it, such ingenuous astonishment that I could not help asking myself if
+there was not some lurking irony in the man, just a little spiteful
+mockery. Not at all, it was simply meant. I was not their comrade, and
+could not be; that was all. Go you to the right, we’ll go to the left!
+your business is yours, ours is ours.</p>
+
+<p>I really fancied that, after the mutiny, they would attack us
+mercilessly so far as they dared and could, and that our life would
+become a hell. But nothing of the sort happened; we did not hear the
+slightest reproach, there was not even an unpleasant allusion to what
+had happened, it was all simply passed over. They went on teasing us as
+before when opportunity served,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> no more. Nobody seemed to bear malice
+against those who would not join in, but remained in the kitchens, or
+against those who were the first to cry out that they had nothing to
+complain of. It was all passed over without a word, to my exceeding
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> An insulting phrase which is untranslatable.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> French in the original Russian.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span> <span class="smaller">MY COMPANIONS</span></h3>
+
+<p>As will be understood, those to whom I was most drawn were people of my
+own sort, that is, those of “noble” birth, especially in the early days;
+but of the three ex-nobles in the place, who were Russians, I knew and
+spoke to but one, Akim Akimitch; the other two were the spy A&mdash;v, and
+the supposed parricide. Even with Akim I never exchanged a word except
+when in extremity, in moments when the melancholy on me was simply
+unendurable, and when I thought I really never should have the chance of
+getting close to any other human being again.</p>
+
+<p>In the last chapter I have tried to show that the convicts were of
+different types, and tried to classify them; but when I think of Akim
+Akimitch I don’t know how to place him, he was quite <i>sui generis</i>, so
+far as I could observe, in that establishment.</p>
+
+<p>There may be, elsewhere, men like him, to whom it seemed as absolutely a
+matter of indifference whether he was a free man, or in jail at hard
+labour; at that place he stood alone in this curious impartiality of
+temperament. He had settled down in the jail as if he was going to pass
+his whole life, and didn’t mind it at all. All his belongings, mattress,
+cushions, utensils, were so ordered as to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> give the impression that he
+was living in a furnished house of his own; there was nothing
+provisional, temporary, bivouac-like, about him, or his words, or his
+habits. He had a good many years still to spend in punishment, but I
+much doubt whether he ever gave a thought to the time when he would get
+out. He was entirely reconciled to his condition, not because he had
+made any effort to be so, but simply out of natural submissiveness; but,
+as far as his comfort went, it came to the same thing. He was not at all
+a bad fellow, and in the early days his advice and help were quite
+useful to me; but sometimes, I can’t help saying it, his peculiarities
+deepened my natural melancholy until it became almost intolerable anguish.</p>
+
+<p>When I became desperate with silence and solitude of soul, I would get
+into talk with him; I wanted to hear, and reply to <i>some</i> words falling
+from a living soul, and the more filled with gall and hatred with all
+our surroundings they had been, the more would they have been in
+sympathy with my wretched mood; but he would just barely talk, quietly
+go on sizing his lanterns, and then begin to tell me some story as to
+how he had been at a review of troops in 18&mdash;, that their general of
+division was so-and-so, that the man&oelig;uvring had been very pretty,
+that there had been a change in the skirmisher’s system of signalling,
+and the like; all of it in level imperturbable tones, like water falling
+drop by drop. He did not put any life into them even when he told me of
+a sharp affair in which he had been, in the Caucasus, for which his
+sword had got the decoration of the Riband of St. Anne. The only
+difference was, that his voice became a little more measured and grave;
+he lowered his tones when he pronounced the name “St. Anne,” as though
+he were telling a great secret, and then, for three minutes at least,
+did not utter a word, but only looked solemn.</p>
+
+<p>During all that first year I had strange passages of feeling, in which I
+hated Akim Akimitch with a bitter hatred, I am sure I cannot say why,
+moments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> when I would despairingly curse the fate which made him my next
+neighbour on my camp-bed, so close indeed that our heads nearly touched.
+An hour afterwards I bitterly reproached myself for such extravagance.
+It was, however, only during my first year of confinement that these
+violent feelings overpowered me. As time went on, I got used to Akim
+Akimitch’s singular character, and was ashamed of my former explosions.
+I don’t remember that he and I ever got into anything like an open quarrel.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the three Russian nobles of whom I have spoken, there were eight
+others there during my time; with some of whom I came to be on a footing
+of intimate friendship. Even the best of them were morbid in mind,
+exclusive, and intolerant to the very last degree; with two of them I
+was obliged to discontinue all spoken intercourse. There were only three
+who had any education, B&mdash;ski, M&mdash;tski, and the old man, J&mdash;ski, who had
+formerly been a professor of mathematics, an excellent fellow, highly
+eccentric, and of very narrow mental horizon in spite of his learning.
+M&mdash;tski and B&mdash;ski were of a mould quite different from his. Between
+M&mdash;tski and myself there was an excellent understanding from the first
+set-off. He and I never once got into any sort of dispute; I respected
+him highly, but could never become sincerely attached to him, though I
+tried to. He was sour, embittered, and mistrustful, with much
+self-control; this was quite antipathetic to me; the man had a closed
+soul, closed to everybody, and he made you feel it. I felt it so
+strongly that perhaps I was wrong about it. After all, his character, I
+must say, was stamped with both nobleness and strength. His inveterate
+scepticism made him very prudent in his relations with everybody about
+him, and in conducting these he gave proof of remarkable tact and skill.
+Sceptic as he was, there was another and a reverse side in his nature,
+for in some things he was a profound and unalterable believer with faith
+and hope unshakable. In spite of his tact in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> dealing with men, he got
+into open hostilities with B&mdash;ski and his friend T&mdash;ski.</p>
+
+<p>The first of these, B&mdash;ski, was a man of infirm health, of consumptive
+tendency, irascible, and of a weak, nervous system; but a good and
+generous man. His nervous irritability went so far that he was as
+capricious as a child; a temperament of that kind was too much for me
+there, so I soon saw as little of B&mdash;ski as I could possibly help,
+though I never ceased to like him much. It was just the other way so far
+as M&mdash;tski was concerned; with him I always was on easy terms, though I
+did not like him at all. When I edged away from B&mdash;ski, I had to break
+also, more or less, with T&mdash;ski, of whom I spoke in the last chapter,
+which I much regretted, for, though of little education, he had an
+excellent heart; a worthy, very spiritual man. He loved and respected
+B&mdash;ski so much that those who broke with that friend of his he regarded
+as his personal enemies. He quarrelled with M&mdash;tski on account of
+B&mdash;ski, and they kept up the difference a long while. All these people
+were as bilious as they could be, humoursome, mistrustful, the victims
+of a moral and physical supersensitiveness. It is not to be wondered at;
+their position was trying indeed, much more so than ours; they were all
+exiled, transported, for ten or twelve years; and what made their
+sojourn in the prison most distressing to them was their rooted,
+ingrained prejudice, especially their unfortunate way of regarding the
+convicts, which they could not get over; in their eyes the unhappy
+fellows were mere wild beasts, without a single recognisable human
+quality. Everything in their previous career and their present
+circumstances combined to produce this unhappy feeling in them.</p>
+
+<p>Their life at the jail was perpetual torment to them. They were kindly
+and conversible with the Circassians, with the Tartars, with Isaiah
+Fomitch; but for the other prisoners they had nothing but contempt and
+aversion. The only one they had any real respect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> for was the aged “old
+believer.” For all this, during all the time I spent at the convict
+establishment, I never knew a single prisoner to reproach them with
+either their birth, or religious opinions, or convictions, as is so
+usual with our common people in their relations with people of different
+condition, especially if these happen to be foreigners. The fact is,
+they cannot take the foreigner seriously; to the Russian common people
+he seems a merely grotesque, comical creature. Our convicts had and
+showed much more respect for the Polish nobles than for us Russians, but
+I don’t think the Poles cared about the matter, or took any notice of the difference.</p>
+
+<p>I spoke just now of T&mdash;ski, and have something more to say of him. When
+he had with his friend to leave the first place assigned to them as
+residence in their banishment to come to our fortress, he carried his
+friend B&mdash;&mdash; nearly the whole way. B&mdash;&mdash; was of quite a weak frame, and
+in bad health, and became exhausted before half of the first march was
+accomplished. They had first been banished to Y&mdash;gorsk, where they lived
+in tolerable comfort; life was much less hard there than in our
+fortress. But in consequence of a correspondence with the exiles in one
+of the other towns&mdash;a quite innocent exchange of letters&mdash;it was thought
+necessary to remove them to our jail to be under the more direct
+surveillance of the government. Until they came M&mdash;tski had been quite
+alone, and dreadful must have been his sufferings in that first year of his banishment.</p>
+
+<p>J&mdash;ski was the old man always deep in prayer, of whom I spoke a little
+earlier. All the political convicts were quite young men while J&mdash;ski
+was at least fifty years old. He was a worthy, gentlemanlike person, if
+eccentric. T&mdash;ski and B&mdash;ski detested him, and never spoke to him; they
+insisted upon it that he was too obstinate and troublesome to put up
+with, and I was obliged to admit it was so. I believe that at a convict
+establishment&mdash;as in every place where people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> have to be together,
+whether they like it or not&mdash;people are more ready to quarrel with and
+detest one another than under other circumstances. Many causes
+contributed to the squabbles that were, unfortunately, always going on.
+J&mdash;ski was really disagreeable and narrow-minded; not one of those about
+him was on good terms with him. He and I did not come to a rupture, but
+we were never on a really friendly footing. I fancy that he was a strong
+mathematician. One day he explained to me in his half-Russian,
+half-Polish jargon, a system of astronomy of his own; I have been told
+that he had written a work upon the subject which the learned world had
+received with derision; I fancy his reasonings on some things had got
+twisted. He used to be on his knees praying for a whole day sometimes,
+which made the convicts respect him exceedingly during the remnant of
+life he had to pass there; he died under my eyes at the jail after a
+very trying illness. He had won the consideration of the prisoners, from
+the first moment of his coming in, on account of what had happened with
+the Major and him. When they were brought afoot from Y&mdash;gorsk to our
+fortress, they were not shaved on the road at all, their hair and beards
+had grown to great lengths when they were brought before the Major. That
+worthy foamed like a madman; he was wild with indignation at such
+infraction of discipline, though it was none of their fault.</p>
+
+<p>“My God! did you ever see anything like it?” he roared; “they are
+vagabonds, brigands.”</p>
+
+<p>J&mdash;ski knew very little Russian, and fancied that he was asking them if
+they were brigands or vagabonds, so he answered:</p>
+
+<p>“We are political prisoners, not rogues and vagabonds.”</p>
+
+<p>“So-o-o! You mean impudence! Clod!” howled the Major. “To the
+guard-house with him; a hundred strokes of the rod at once, this instant, I say!”</p>
+
+<p>They gave the old man the punishment; he lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> flat on the ground under
+the strokes without the slightest resistance, kept his hand in his
+teeth, and bore it all without a murmur, and without moving a muscle.
+B&mdash;ski and T&mdash;ski arrived at the jail as this was all going on, and
+M&mdash;ski was waiting for them at the principal gate, knowing that they
+were just coming in; he threw himself on their neck, although he had
+never seen them before. Utterly disgusted at the way the Major had
+received them, they told M&mdash;ski all about the cruel business that had
+just occurred. M&mdash;ski told me later that he was quite beside himself
+with rage when he heard it.</p>
+
+<p>“I could not contain myself for passion,” he said, “I shook as though
+with ague. I waited for J&mdash;ski at the great gate, for he would come
+straight that way from the guard-house after his punishment. The gate
+was opened, and there I saw pass before me J&mdash;ski, his lips all white
+and trembling, his face pale as death; he did not look at a single
+person, and passed through the groups of convicts assembled in the
+court-yard&mdash;they knew a noble had just been subjected to
+punishment&mdash;went into the barrack, went straight to his place, and,
+without a word, dropped down on his knees for prayer. The prisoners were
+surprised and even affected. When I saw this old man with white hairs,
+who had left behind him at home a wife and children, kneeling and
+praying after that scandalous treatment, I rushed away from the barrack,
+and for a couple of hours felt as if I had gone stark, staring, raving
+mad, or blind drunk.... From that first moment the convicts were full of
+deference and consideration for J&mdash;ski; what particularly pleased them,
+was that he did not utter a cry when undergoing the punishment.”</p>
+
+<p>But one must be fair and tell the truth about this sort of thing; this
+sad story is not an instance of what frequently occurs in the treatment
+by the authorities of transported noblemen, Russian or Polish; and this
+isolated case affords no basis for passing judgment upon that treatment.
+My anecdote merely shows that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> you may light upon a bad man anywhere and
+everywhere. And if it happen that such a one is in absolute command of a
+jail, and if he happen to have a grudge against one of the prisoners,
+the lot of such a one will be indeed very far from enviable. But the
+administrative chiefs who regulate and supervise convict labour in
+Siberia, and from whom subordinates take their tone as well as their
+orders, are careful to exercise a discriminating treatment in the case
+of persons of noble birth, and, in some cases, grant them special
+indulgences as compared with the lot of convicts of lower condition.
+There are obvious reasons for this; these heads of departments are
+nobles themselves, they know that men of that class must not be driven
+to extremity; cases have been known where nobles have refused to submit
+to corporal punishment, and flung themselves desperately on their
+tormentors with very grave and serious consequences indeed;
+moreover&mdash;and this, I think, is the leading cause of the good
+treatment&mdash;some time ago, thirty-five years at least, there were
+transported to Siberia quite a crowd of noblemen;<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> these were of such
+correct and irreproachable demeanour, and held themselves so high, that
+the heads of departments fell into the way, which they never afterwards
+left, of regarding criminals of noble birth and ordinary convicts in
+quite a different manner; and men in lower place took their cue from them.</p>
+
+<p>Many of these, no doubt, were little pleased with that disposition in
+their superiors; such persons were pleased enough when they could do
+exactly as they liked in the matter, but this did not often happen, they
+were kept well within bounds; I have reason to be satisfied of this and
+I will say why. I was put in the second category, a classification of
+those condemned to hard labour, which was primarily and principally
+composed of convicts who had been serfs, under military superintendence;
+now this second category, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> class, was much harder than the first (of
+the mines) or the third (manufacturing work). It was harder, not only
+for the nobles but for the other convicts too, because the governing and
+administrative methods and <i>personnel</i> in it were wholly military, and
+were pretty much the same in type as those of the convict establishments
+in Russia. The men in official position were severer, the general
+treatment more rigorous than in the two other classes; the men were
+never out of irons, an escort of soldiers was always present, you were
+always, or nearly so, within stone walls; and things were quite
+different in the other classes, at least so the convicts said, and there
+were those among them who had every reason to know. They would all have
+gladly gone off to the mines, which the law classified as the worst and
+last punishment, it was their constant dream and desire to do so. All
+those who had been in the Russian convict establishments spoke with
+horror of them, and declared that there was no hell like them, that
+Siberia was a paradise compared with confinement in the fortresses in Russia.</p>
+
+<p>If, then, it is the case that we nobles were treated with special
+consideration in the establishment I was confined in, which was under
+direct control of the Governor-General, and administered entirely on
+military principles, there must have been some greater kindliness in the
+treatment of the convicts of the first and third category or class. I
+think I can speak with some authority about what went on throughout
+Siberia in these respects, and I based my views, as to this, upon all
+that I heard from convicts of these classes. We, in our prison, were
+under much more rigorous surveillance than was elsewhere practised; we
+were favoured with no sort of exemptions from the ordinary rules as
+regards work and confinement, and the wearing of chains; we could not do
+anything for ourselves to get immunity from the rules, for I, at least,
+knew quite well that, <i>in the good old time which was quite of
+yesterday</i>, there had been so much intriguing to undermine the credit of
+officials that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> the authorities were greatly afraid of informers, and
+that, as things stood, to show indulgence to a convict was regarded as a
+crime. Everybody, therefore, authorities and convicts alike, was in fear
+of what might happen; we of the nobles were thus quite down to the level
+of the other convicts; the only point we were favoured in was in regard
+to corporal punishment&mdash;but I think that we should have had even that
+inflicted on us had we done anything for which it was prescribed, for
+equality as to punishment was strictly enjoined or practised; what I
+mean is, that we were not wantonly, causelessly, mishandled like the other prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>When the Governor got to know of the punishment inflicted on J&mdash;ski, he
+was seriously angry with the Major, and ordered him to be more careful
+for the future. The thing got very generally known. We learned also that
+the Governor-General, who had great confidence in our Major, and who
+liked him because of his exact observance of legal bounds, and thought
+highly of his qualities in the service, gave him a sharp scolding. And
+our Major took the lesson to heart. I have no doubt it was this
+prevented his having M&mdash;ski beaten, which he would much have liked to
+do, being much influenced by the slanderous things A&mdash;f said about
+M&mdash;&mdash;; but the Major could never get a fair pretext for doing so,
+however much he persecuted and set spies upon his proposed victim; so he
+had to deny himself that pleasure. The J&mdash;ski affair became known all
+through the town, and public opinion condemned the Major; some persons
+reproached him openly for what he had done, and some even insulted him.</p>
+
+<p>The first occasion on which the man crossed my path may as well be
+mentioned. We had alarming things reported to us&mdash;to me and another
+nobleman under sentence&mdash;about the abominable character of this man,
+while we were still at Tobolsk. Men who had been sentenced a long while
+back to twenty-five years of the misery, nobles as we were, and who had
+visited us so kindly during our provisional sojourn in the first
+prison,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> had warned us what sort of man we were to be under; they had
+also promised to do all they could for us with their friends to see that
+he hurt us as little as possible. And, in fact, they did write to the
+three daughters of the Governor-General, who, I believe, interceded on
+our behalf with their father. But what could he do? No more, of course,
+than tell the Major to be fair in applying the rules and regulations to
+our case. It was about three in the afternoon that my companion and
+myself arrived in the town; our escort took us at once to our tyrant. We
+remained waiting for him in the ante-chamber while they went to find the
+next-in-command at the prison. As soon as the latter had come, in walked
+the Major. We saw an inflamed scarlet face that boded no good, and
+affected us quite painfully; he seemed like a sort of spider about to
+throw itself on a poor fly wriggling in its web.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s your name, man?” said he to my companion. He spoke with a harsh,
+jerky voice, as if he wanted to overawe us.</p>
+
+<p>My friend gave his name.</p>
+
+<p>“And you?” said he, turning to me and glaring at me behind his spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>I gave mine.</p>
+
+<p>“Sergeant! take ’em to the prison, and let ’em be shaved at the
+guard-house, civilian-fashion, hair off half their skulls, and let ’em
+be put in irons to-morrow. Why, what sort of cloaks have you got there?”
+said he brutally, when he saw the gray cloaks with yellow sewn at the
+back which they had given to us at Tobolsk. “Why, that’s a new uniform,
+begad&mdash;a new uniform! They’re always getting up something or other.
+That’s a Petersburg trick,” he said, as he inspected us one after the
+other. “Got anything with them?” he said abruptly to the gendarme who escorted us.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ve got their own clothes, your worship,” replied he; and the man
+carried arms, just as if on parade, not without a nervous tremor.
+Everybody knew the fellow, and was afraid of him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p><p>“Take their clothes away from them. They can’t keep anything but their
+linen, their white things; take away all their coloured things if
+they’ve got any, and sell them off at the next sale, and put the money
+to the prison account. A convict has no property,” said he, looking
+severely at us. “Hark ye! Behave prettily; don’t let me have any
+complaining. If I do&mdash;cat-o’-nine-tails! The smallest offence, and to
+the sticks you go!”</p>
+
+<p>This way of receiving me, so different from anything I had ever known,
+made me nearly ill that night. It was a frightful thing to happen at the
+very moment of entering the infernal place. But I have already told that
+part of my story.</p>
+
+<p>Thus we had no sort of exemption or immunity from any of the miseries
+inflicted there, no lightening of our labours when with the other
+convicts; but friends tried to help us by getting us sent for three
+months, B&mdash;ski and me, to the bureau of the Engineers, to do copying
+work. This was done quietly, and as much as possible kept from being
+talked about or observed. This piece of kindness was done for us by the
+head engineers, during the short time that Lieutenant-Colonel G&mdash;kof was
+Governor at our prison. This gentleman had command there only for six
+short months, for he soon went back to Russia. He really seemed to us
+all like an angel of goodness sent from heaven, and the feeling for him
+among the convicts was of the strongest kind; it was not mere love, it
+was something like adoration. I cannot help saying so. How he did it I
+don’t know, but their hearts went out to him from the moment they first
+set eyes on him.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s more like a father than anything else,” the prisoners kept
+continually saying during all the time he was there at the head of the
+engineering department. He was a brilliant, joyous fellow. He was of low
+stature, with a bold, confident expression, and he was all gracious
+kindness to the convicts, for whom he really did seem to entertain a
+fatherly sort of affection.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> How was it he was so fond of them? It is
+hard to say, but he seemed never to be able to pass a prisoner without a
+bit of pleasant talk and a little laughing and joking together. There
+was nothing that smacked of authority in his pleasantries, nothing that
+reminded them of his position over them. He behaved just as if he was
+one of themselves. In spite of this kind condescension, I don’t remember
+any one of the convicts ever failing in respect to him or taking the
+slightest liberty&mdash;quite the other way. The convict’s face would light
+up in a wonderful, sudden way when he met the Governor; it was odd to
+see how the face smiled all over, and the hand went to the cap, when the
+Governor was seen in the distance making for the poor man. A word from
+him was regarded as a signal honour. There are some people like that,
+who know how to win all hearts.</p>
+
+<p>G&mdash;kof had a bold, jaunty air, walked with long strides, holding himself
+very straight; “a regular eagle,” the convicts used to call him. He
+could not do much to lighten their lot materially, for his office was
+that of superintending the engineering work, which had to be done in
+ways and quantities, settled absolutely and unalterably by the
+regulations. But if he happened to come across a gang of convicts who
+had actually got through their work, he allowed them to go back to
+quarters before beat of drum, without waiting for the regulation moment.
+The prisoners loved him for the confidence he showed in them, and
+because of his aversion for all mean, trifling interferences with them,
+which are so irritating when prison superiors are addicted to that sort
+of thing. I am absolutely certain that if he had lost a thousand roubles
+in notes, there was not a thief in the prison, however hardened, who
+would not have brought them to him, if the man lit on them. I am sure of it.</p>
+
+<p>How the prisoners all felt for him, and with him when they learned that
+he was at daggers drawn with our detested Major. That came about a
+month<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> after his arrival. Their delight knew no bounds. The Major had
+formerly served with him in the same detachment; so, when they met,
+after a long separation, they were at first boon companions, but the
+intimacy could not and did not last. They came to
+blows&mdash;figuratively&mdash;and G&mdash;kof became the Major’s sworn enemy. Some
+would have it that it was <i>more</i> than figuratively, that they came to
+actual fisticuffs, a likely thing enough as far as the Major was
+concerned, for the man had no objection to a scrimmage.</p>
+
+<p>When the convicts heard of the quarrel they really could not contain their delight.</p>
+
+<p>“Old Eight-eyes and the Commandant get on finely together! <i>He’s</i> an
+eagle; but the other’s a <i>bad ’un</i>!”</p>
+
+<p>Those who believed in the fight were mighty curious to know which of the
+two had had the worst of it, and got a good drubbing. If it had been
+proved there had been no fighting our convicts, I think, would have been
+bitterly disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>“The Commandant gave him fits, you may bet your life on it,” said they;
+“he’s a little ’un, but as bold as a lion; the other one got into a blue
+funk, and hid under the bed from him.”</p>
+
+<p>But G&mdash;kof went away only too soon, and keenly was he regretted in the
+prison.</p>
+
+<p>Our engineers were all most excellent fellows; we had three or four
+fresh batches of them while I was there.</p>
+
+<p>“Our eagles never remain very long with us,” said the prisoners;
+“especially when they are good and kind fellows.”</p>
+
+<p>It was this G&mdash;kof who sent B&mdash;ski and myself to work in his bureau, for
+he was partial to exiled nobles. When he left, our condition was still
+fairly endurable, for there was another engineer there who showed us
+much sympathy and friendship. We copied reports for some time, and our
+handwriting was getting to be very good, when an order came from the
+authorities that we were to be sent back to hard labour as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> before; some
+spiteful person had been at work. At bottom we were rather pleased, for
+we were quite tired of copying.</p>
+
+<p>For two whole years I worked in company with B&mdash;ski, all the time in the
+shops, and many a gossip did we have about our hopes for the future and
+our notions and convictions. Good B&mdash;ski had a very odd mind, which
+worked in a strange, exceptional way. There are some people of great
+intelligence who indulge in paradox unconscionably; but when they have
+undergone great and constant sufferings for their ideas and made great
+sacrifices for them, you can’t drive their notions out of their heads,
+and it is cruel to try it. When you objected something to B&mdash;ski’s
+propositions, he was really hurt, and gave you a violent answer. He was,
+perhaps, more in the right than I was as to some things wherein we
+differed, but we were obliged to give one another up, very much to my
+regret, for we had many thoughts in common.</p>
+
+<p>As years went on M&mdash;tski became more and more sombre and melancholy; he
+became a prey to despair. During the earliest part of my imprisonment he
+was communicative enough, and let us see what was going on in him. When
+I arrived at the prison he had just finished his second year. At first
+he took a lively interest in the news I brought, for he knew nothing of
+what had been going on in the outer world; he put questions to me,
+listened eagerly, showed emotion, but, bit by bit, his reserve grew on
+him and there was no getting at his thoughts. The glowing coals were all
+covered up with ashes. Yet it was plain that his temper grew sourer and
+sourer. “<i>Je hais ces brigands</i>,”<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> he would say, speaking of convicts
+I had got to know something of; I never could make him see any good in
+them. He really did not seem to fully enter into the meaning of anything
+I said on their behalf, though he would sometimes seem to agree in a
+listless sort of way. Next day it was just as before:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> “<i>je hais ces
+brigands</i>.” (We used often to speak French with him; so one of the
+overseers of the works, the soldier, Dranichnikof, used always to call
+us <i>aides chirurgiens</i>, God knows why!) M&mdash;tski never seemed to shake
+off his usual apathy except when he spoke of his mother.</p>
+
+<p>“She is old and infirm,” he said; “she loves me better than anything in
+the world, and I don’t even know if she’s still living. If she learns
+that I’ve been whipped&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>M&mdash;tski was not a noble, and had been whipped before he was transported.
+When the recollection of this came up in his mind he gnashed his teeth,
+and could not look anybody in the face. In the latest days of his
+imprisonment he used to walk to and fro, quite alone for the most part.
+One day, at noon, he was summoned to the Governor, who received him with
+a smile on his lips.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, M&mdash;tski, what were your dreams last night?” asked the Governor.</p>
+
+<p>Said M&mdash;tski to me later, “When he said that to me a shudder ran through
+me; I felt struck at the heart.”</p>
+
+<p>His answer was, “I dreamed that I had a letter from my mother.”</p>
+
+<p>“Better than that, better!” replied the Governor. “You are free; your
+mother has petitioned the Emperor, and he has granted her prayer. Here,
+here’s her letter, and the order for your dismissal. You are to leave
+the jail without delay.”</p>
+
+<p>He came to us pale, scarcely able to believe in his good fortune.</p>
+
+<p>We congratulated him. He pressed our hands with his own, which were
+quite cold, and trembled violently. Many of the convicts wished him joy;
+they were really glad to see his happiness.</p>
+
+<p>He settled in Siberia, establishing himself in our town, where a little
+after that they gave him a place. He used often to come to the jail to
+bring us news, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> tell us all that was going on, as often as he could
+talk with us. It was political news that interested him chiefly.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the four Poles, the political convicts of whom I spoke just now,
+there were two others of that nation, who were sentenced for very short
+periods; they had not much education, but were good, simple,
+straightforward fellows. There was another, A&mdash;tchoukooski, quite a
+colourless person; one more I must mention, B&mdash;in, a man well on in
+years, who impressed us all very unfavourably indeed. I don’t know what
+he had been sentenced for, although he used to tell us some story or
+other about it pretty frequently. He was a person of a vulgar, mean
+type, with the coarse manner of an enriched shopkeeper. He was quite
+without education, and seemed to take interest in nothing except what
+concerned his trade, which was that of a painter, a sort of
+scene-painter he was; he showed a good deal of talent in his work, and
+the authorities of the prison soon came to know about his abilities, so
+he got employment all through the town in decorating walls and ceilings.
+In two years he beautified the rooms of nearly all the prison officials,
+who remunerated him handsomely, so he lived pretty comfortably. He was
+sent to work with three other prisoners, two of whom learned the
+business thoroughly; one of these, T&mdash;jwoski, painted nearly as well as
+B&mdash;in himself. Our Major, who had rooms in one of the government
+buildings, sent for B&mdash;in, and gave him a commission to decorate the
+walls and ceilings there, which he did so effectively, that the suite of
+rooms of the Governor-General were quite put out of countenance by those
+of the Major. The house itself was a ramshackle old place, while the
+interior, thanks to B&mdash;in, was as gay as a palace. Our worthy Major was
+hugely delighted, went about rubbing his hands, and told everybody that
+he should look out for a wife at once, “a fellow <i>can’t</i> remain single
+when he lives in a place like that;” he was quite serious about it. The
+Major’s<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> satisfaction with B&mdash;in and his assistants went on increasing.
+They occupied a month in the work at the Major’s house. During those
+memorable days the Major seemed to get into a different frame of mind
+about us, and began to be quite kind to us political prisoners. One day
+he sent for J&mdash;ski.</p>
+
+<p>“J&mdash;ski,” said he, “I’ve done you wrong; I had you beaten for nothing.
+I’m very sorry. Do you understand? I’m very sorry. I, Major &mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>J&mdash;ski answered that he understood perfectly.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you understand? I, who am set over you, I have sent for you to ask
+your pardon. You can hardly realise it, I suppose. What are you to me,
+fellow? A worm, less than a crawling worm; you’re a convict, while I, by
+God’s grace,<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> am a Major; Major &mdash;&mdash;, <i>do</i> you understand?”</p>
+
+<p>J&mdash;ski answered that he quite well understood it all.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, I want to be friends with you. But can you appreciate what I’m
+doing? Can you feel the greatness of soul I’m showing&mdash;feel and
+appreciate it? Just think of it; I, I, the Major!” etc. etc.</p>
+
+<p>J&mdash;ski told me of this scene. There was, then, some human feeling left
+in this drunken, unruly, and tormenting brute. Allowing for the man’s
+notions of things, and feeble faculties, one cannot deny that this was a
+generous proceeding on his part. Perhaps he was a little less drunk than
+usual, perhaps more; who can tell?</p>
+
+<p>The Major’s glorious idea of marrying came to nothing; the rooms got all
+their bravery, but the wife was not forthcoming. Instead of going to the
+altar in that agreeable way, he was pulled up before the authorities and
+sent to trial. He received orders to send in his resignation. Some of
+his old sins had found him out, it seems; things done when he had been
+superintendent of police in our town. This crushing blow came down upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>
+him without notice, quite suddenly. All the convicts were greatly
+rejoiced when they heard the great news; it was high day and holiday all
+through the jail. The story went abroad that the Major sobbed, and
+cried, and howled like an old woman. But he was helpless in the matter.
+He was obliged to leave his place, sell his two gray horses, and
+everything he had in the world; and he fell into complete destitution.
+We came across him occasionally afterwards in civilian, threadbare
+clothes, and wearing a cap with a cockade; he glanced at us convicts as
+spitefully and maliciously as you please. But without his Major’s
+uniform, all the man’s glory was gone. While placed over us, he gave
+himself the airs of a being higher than human, who had got into coat and
+breeches; now it was all over, he looked like the lackey he was, and a
+disgraced lackey to boot.</p>
+
+<p>With fellows of this sort, the uniform is the only saving grace; that
+gone, all’s gone.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> The Decembrists.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> French in the original Russian.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Our Major was not the only officer who spoke of himself in
+that lofty way; a good many officers did the same, men who had risen
+from the ranks chiefly.</p></div></div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER IX.</span> <span class="smaller">THE ESCAPE</span></h3>
+
+<p>A little while after the Major resigned, our prison was subjected to a
+thorough reorganization. The “hard labour” hitherto inflicted, and the
+other regulations, were abolished, and the place put upon the footing of
+the military convict establishments of Russia. As a result of this,
+prisoners of the second category were no longer sent there; this class
+was, for the future, to be composed of prisoners who were regarded as
+still on the military footing, that is to say, men who, in spite of
+sentence, did not forfeit for ever their civic <i>status</i>. They were
+soldiers still, but had undergone corporal punishment; they were
+sentenced for comparatively short periods, six years at most; when they
+had served their time, or in case of pardon, they went into the ranks
+again, as before. Men guilty of a second offence were sentenced to
+twenty years of imprisonment. Up to the time I speak of, we had a
+section of soldier-prisoners among us, but only because they did not
+know where else to dispose of them. Now the place was to be occupied by
+soldiers exclusively. As to the civilian convicts, who were stripped of
+all civic rights, branded, cropped, and shaven, these were to remain in
+the fortress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> to finish their time; but as no fresh prisoners of this
+class were to come in, and those there would get their discharge
+successively, at the end of ten years there would be no civilian
+convicts left in the place, according to the arrangements. The line of
+division between the classes of prisoners there was maintained; from
+time to time there came in other military criminals of high position,
+sent to our place for security, before being forwarded to Eastern
+Siberia, for the more aggravated penalties that awaited them there.</p>
+
+<p>There was no change in our general way of life. The work we had to do
+and the discipline observed were the same as before; but the
+administrative system was entirely altered, and made more complex. An
+officer, commandant of companies, was assigned to be at the head of the
+prison; he had under his orders four subaltern officers who mounted
+guard by turns. The “invalids” were superseded by twelve
+non-commissioned officers, and an arsenal superintendent. The convicts
+were divided into sections of ten, and corporals chosen among them; the
+power of these over the others was, as may be supposed, nominal. As
+might be expected, Akim Akimitch got this promotion.</p>
+
+<p>All these new arrangements were confided to the Governor to carry out,
+who remained in superior command over the whole establishment. The
+changes did not go further than this. At first the convicts were not a
+little excited by this movement, and discussed their new guardians a
+good deal among themselves, trying to make out what sort of fellows they
+were; but when they saw that everything went on pretty much as usual
+they quieted down, and things resumed their ordinary course. We had got
+rid of the Major, and that was something; everybody took fresh breath
+and fresh courage. The fear that was in all hearts grew less; we had
+some assurance that in case of need we could go to our superiors and
+lodge our complaint, and that a man could not be punished without cause,
+and would not, unless by mistake.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p><p>Brandy was brought in as before, although we had subaltern officers now
+where “invalids” were before. These subalterns were all worthy, careful
+men, who knew their place and business. There were some among them who
+had the idea that they might give themselves grand airs, and treat us
+like common soldiers, but they soon gave it up and behaved like the
+others. Those who did not seem to be well able to get into their heads
+what the ways of our prison really were, had sharp lessons about it from
+the convicts themselves, which led to some lively scenes. One
+sub-officer was confronted with brandy, which was of course too much for
+him; when he was sober again we had a little explanation with him; we
+pointed out that he had been drinking with the prisoners, and that,
+accordingly, etc. etc.; he became quite tractable. The end of it was
+that the subalterns closed their eyes to the brandy business. They went
+to market for us, just as the invalids used to, and brought the
+prisoners white bread, meat, anything that could be got in without too
+much risk. So I never could understand why they had gone to the trouble
+of turning the place into a military prison. The change was made two
+years before I left the place; I had two years to bear of it still.</p>
+
+<p>I see little use in recording all I saw and went through later at the
+convict establishment day by day. If I were to tell it all, all the
+daily and hourly occurrences, I might write twice or thrice as many
+chapters as this book ought to contain, but I should simply tire the
+reader and myself. Substantially all that I might write has been already
+embodied in the narrative as it stands so far; and the reader has had
+the opportunity of getting a tolerable idea of what the life of a
+convict of the second class really was. My wish has been to portray the
+state of things at the establishment, and as it affected myself,
+accurately and yet forcibly; whether I have done so others must judge. I
+cannot pronounce upon my own work, but I think I may well draw it to a
+close; as I move among these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> recollections of a dreadful past, the old
+suffering comes up again and all but strangles me.</p>
+
+<p>Besides, I cannot be sure of my memory as to all I saw in these last
+years, for the faculty seems blunted as regards the later compared with
+the earlier period of my imprisonment, there is a good deal I am sure I
+have quite forgotten. But I remember only too well how very, very slow
+these last two years were, how very sad, how the days seemed as if they
+never would come to evening, something like water falling drop by drop.
+I remember, too, that I was filled with a mighty longing for my
+resurrection from that grave which gave me strength to bear up, to wait,
+and to hope. And so I got to be hardened and enduring; I lived on
+expectation, I counted every passing day; if there were a thousand more
+of them to pass at the prison I found satisfaction in thinking that one
+of them was gone, and only nine hundred and ninety-nine to come. I
+remember, too, that though I had round me a hundred persons in like
+case, I felt myself more and more solitary, and though the solitude was
+awful I came to love it. Isolated thus among the convict-crowd I went
+over all my earlier life, analysing its events and thoughts minutely; I
+passed my former doings in review, and sometimes was pitiless in
+condemnation of myself; sometimes I went so far as to be grateful to
+fate for the privilege of such loneliness, for only that could have
+caused me so severely to scrutinise my past, so searchingly to examine
+its inner and outer life. What strong and strange new germs of hope came
+in those memorable hours up in my soul! I weighed and decided all sorts
+of issues, I entered into a compact with myself to avoid the errors of
+former years, and the rocks on which I had been wrecked; I laid down a
+programme for my future, and vowed that I would stick to it; I had a
+sort of blind and complete conviction that, once away from that place, I
+should be able to carry out everything I made my mind up to; I looked
+for my freedom with transports of eager desire; I wanted to try my
+strength<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> in a renewed struggle with life; sometimes I was clutched, as
+by fangs, by an impatience which rose to fever heat. It is painful to go
+back to these things, most painful; nobody, I know, can care much about
+it at all except myself; but I write because I think people will
+understand, and because there are those who have been, those who yet
+will be, like myself, condemned, imprisoned, cut off from life, in the
+flower of their age, and in the full possession of all their strength.</p>
+
+<p>But all this is useless. Let me end my memoirs with a narrative of
+something interesting, for I must not close them too abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>What shall it be? Well, it may occur to some to ask whether it was quite
+impossible to escape from the jail, and if during the time I spent there
+no attempt of the kind was made. I have already said that a prisoner who
+has got through two or three years thinks a good deal of it, and, as a
+rule, concludes that it is best to finish his time without running more
+risks, so that he may get his settlement, on the land or otherwise, when
+set at liberty. But those who reckon in this way are convicts sentenced
+for comparatively short times; those who have many years to serve are
+always ready to run some chances. For all that the attempts at escape
+were quite infrequent. Whether that was attributable to the want of
+spirit in the convicts, the severity of the military discipline
+enforced, or, after all, to the situation of the town, little favourable
+to escapes, for it was in the midst of the open steppe, I really cannot
+say. All these motives no doubt contributed to give pause. It was
+difficult enough to get out of the prison at all; in my time two
+convicts tried it; they were criminals of importance.</p>
+
+<p>When our Major had been got rid of, A&mdash;v, the spy, was quite alone with
+nobody to back him up. He was still quite young, but his character grew
+in force with every year; he was a bold, self-asserting fellow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> of
+considerable intelligence. I think if they had set him at liberty he
+would have gone on spying and getting money in every sort of shameful
+way, but I don’t think he would have let himself be caught again; he
+would have turned his experiences as a convict to far too much good for
+that. One trick he practised was that of forging passports, at least so
+I heard from some of the convicts. I think this fellow was ready to risk
+everything for a change in his position. Circumstances gave me the
+opportunity of getting to the bottom of this man’s disposition and
+seeing how ugly it was; he was simply revolting in his cold, deep
+wickedness, and my disgust with him was more than I could get over. I do
+believe that if he wanted a drink of brandy, and could only have got it
+by killing some one, he would not have hesitated one moment if it was
+pretty certain the crime would not come out. He had learned there, in
+that jail, to look on everything in the coolest calculating way. It was
+on him that the choice of Koulikoff&mdash;of the special section&mdash;fell, as we
+are to see.</p>
+
+<p>I have spoken before of Koulikoff. He was no longer young, but full of
+ardour, life, and vigour, and endowed with extraordinary faculties. He
+felt his strength, and wanted still to have a life of his own; there are
+some men who long to live in a rich, abounding life, even when old age
+has got hold of them. I should have been a good deal surprised if
+Koulikoff had <i>not</i> tried to escape; but he did. Which of the two,
+Koulikoff and A&mdash;v, had the greater influence over the other I really
+cannot say; they were a goodly couple, and suited each other to a hair,
+so they soon became as thick as possible. I fancy that Koulikoff
+reckoned on A&mdash;v to forge a passport for him; besides, the latter was of
+the noble class, belonged to good society, a circumstance out of which a
+good deal could be made if they managed to get back into Russia. Heaven
+only knows what compacts they made, or what plans and hopes they formed;
+if they got as far as Russia they would at all events leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> behind them
+Siberia and vagabondage. Koulikoff was a versatile man, capable of
+playing many a part on the stage of life, and had plenty of ability to
+go upon, whatever direction his efforts took. To such persons the jail
+is strangulation and suffocation. So the two set about plotting their escape.</p>
+
+<p>But to get away without a soldier to act as escort was impossible; so a
+soldier had to be won. In one of the battalions stationed at our
+fortress was a Pole of middle life&mdash;an energetic fellow worthy of a
+better fate&mdash;serious, courageous. When he arrived first in Siberia,
+quite young, he had deserted, for he could not stand his sufferings from
+nostalgia. He was captured and whipped. During two years he formed part
+of the disciplinary companies to which offenders are sent; then he
+rejoined his battalion, and, showing himself zealous in the service, had
+been rewarded by promotion to the rank of corporal. He had a good deal
+of self-love, and spoke like a man who had no small conceit of himself.</p>
+
+<p>I took particular notice of the man sometimes when he was among the
+soldiers who had charge of us, for the Poles had spoken to me about him;
+and I got the idea that his longing for his native country had taken the
+form of a chill, fixed, deadly hatred for those who kept him away from
+it. He was the sort of man to stick at nothing, and Koulikoff showed
+that his scent was good, when he pitched on this man to be an accomplice
+in his flight. This corporal’s name was Kohler. Koulikoff and he settled
+their plans and fixed the day. It was the month of June, the hottest of
+the year. The climate of our town and neighbourhood was pretty equable,
+especially in summer, which is a very good thing for tramps and
+vagabonds. To make off far after leaving the fortress was quite out of
+the question, it being situated on rising ground and in uncovered
+country, for though surrounded by woods, these are a considerable
+distance away. A disguise was indispensable, and to procure it they must
+manage to get into the outskirts of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> the town, where Koulikoff had taken
+care some time before to prepare a den of some sort. I don’t know
+whether his worthy friends in that part of the town were in the secret.
+It may be presumed they were, though there is no evidence. That year,
+however, a young woman who led a gay life and was very pretty, settled
+down in a nook of that same part of the city, near the county. This
+young person attracted a good deal of notice, and her career promised to
+be something quite remarkable; her nickname was “Fire and Flame.” I
+think that she and the fugitives concerted the plans of escape together,
+for Koulikoff had lavished a good deal of attention and money on her for
+more than a year. When the gangs were formed each morning, the two
+fellows, Koulikoff and A&mdash;v, managed to get themselves sent out with the
+convict Chilkin, whose trade was that of stove-maker and plasterer, to
+do up the empty barracks when the soldiers went into camp. A&mdash;v and
+Koulikoff were to help in carrying the necessary materials. Kohler got
+himself put into the escort on the occasion; as the rules required three
+soldiers to act as escort for two prisoners, they gave him a young
+recruit whom he was doing corporal’s duty upon, drilling and training
+him. Our fugitives must have exercised a great deal of influence over
+Kohler to deceive him, to cast his lot in with them, serious,
+intelligent, and reflective man as he was, with so few more years of
+service to pass in the army.</p>
+
+<p>They arrived at the barracks about six o’clock in the morning; there was
+nobody with them. After having worked about an hour, Koulikoff and A&mdash;v
+told Chilkin that they were going to the workshop to see some one, and
+fetch a tool they wanted. They had to go carefully to work with Chilkin,
+and speak in as natural a tone as they could. The man was from Moscow,
+by trade a stove-maker, sharp and cunning, keen-sighted, not talkative,
+fragile in appearance, with little flesh on his bones. He was the sort
+of person who might have been expected to pass his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> life in honest
+working dress, in some Moscow shop, yet here he was in the “special
+section,” after many wanderings and transfers among the most formidable
+military criminals; so fate had ordered.</p>
+
+<p>What had he done to deserve such severe punishment? I had not the least
+idea; he never showed the least resentment or sour feeling, and went on
+in a quiet, inoffensive way; now and then he got as drunk as a lord;
+but, apart from that, his conduct was perfectly good. Of course he was
+not in the secret, so he had to be thrown off the scent. Koulikoff told
+him, with a wink, that they were going to get some brandy, which had
+been hidden the day before in the workshop, which suited Chilkin’s book
+perfectly; he had not the least notion of what was up, and remained
+alone with the young recruit, while Koulikoff, A&mdash;v, and Kohler betook
+themselves to the suburbs of the town.</p>
+
+<p>Half-an-hour passed; the men did not come back. Chilkin began to think,
+and the truth dawned upon him. He remembered that Koulikoff had not
+seemed at all like himself, that he had seen him whispering and winking
+to A&mdash;v; he was sure of that, and the whole thing seemed suspicious to
+him. Kohler’s behaviour had struck him, too; when he went off with the
+two convicts, the corporal had given the recruit orders what he was to
+do in his absence, which he had never known him do before. The more
+Chilkin thought over the matter the less he liked it. Time went on; the
+convicts did not return; his anxiety was great; for he saw that the
+authorities would suspect him of connivance with the fugitives, so that
+his own skin was in danger. If he made any delay in giving information
+of what had occurred, suspicion of himself would grow into conviction
+that he knew what the men intended when they left him, and he would be
+dealt with as their accomplice. There was no time to lose.</p>
+
+<p>It came into his mind, then, that Koulikoff and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> A&mdash;v had become
+markedly intimate for some time, and that they had been often seen
+laying their heads together behind the barracks, by themselves. He
+remembered, too, that he had more than once fancied that they were up to
+something together.</p>
+
+<p>He looked attentively at the soldier with him as escort; the fellow was
+yawning, leaning on his gun, and scratching his nose in the most
+innocent manner imaginable; so Chilkin did not think it necessary to
+speak of his anxieties to this man: he told him simply to come with him
+to the engineers’ workshops. His object was to ask if anybody there had
+seen his companions; but nobody there had, so Chilkin’s suspicions grew
+stronger and stronger. If only he could think that they had gone to get
+drunk and have a spree in the outskirts of the town, as Koulikoff often
+did. No, thought Chilkin, that was <i>not</i> so. They would have told him,
+for there was no need to make a mystery of that. Chilkin left his work,
+and went straight back to the jail.</p>
+
+<p>It was about nine o’clock when he reached the sergeant-major, to whom he
+mentioned his suspicions. That officer was frightened, and at first
+could not believe there was anything in it all. Chilkin had, in fact,
+expressed no more than a vague misgiving that all was not as it should
+be. The sergeant-major ran to the Major, who in his turn ran to the
+Governor. In a quarter-of-an-hour all necessary measures were taken. The
+Governor-General was communicated with. As the convicts in question were
+persons of importance, it might be expected that the matter would be
+seriously viewed at St. Petersburg. A&mdash;v was classed among political
+prisoners, by a somewhat random official proceeding, it would seem;
+Koulikoff was a convict of the “special section,” that is to say, as a
+criminal of the blackest dye, and, what was worse, was an ex-soldier. It
+was then brought to notice that according to the regulations each
+convict of the “special section” ought to have two soldiers assigned as
+escort when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> he went to work; the regulations had not been observed as
+to this, so that everybody was exposed to serious trouble. Expresses
+were sent off to all the district offices of the municipality, and all
+the little neighbouring towns, to warn the authorities of the escape of
+the two convicts, and a full description furnished of their persons.
+Cossacks were sent out to hunt them up, letters sent to the authorities
+of all adjoining Governmental districts. And everybody was frightened to death.</p>
+
+<p>The excitement was quite as great all through the prison; as the
+convicts returned from work, they heard the tremendous news, which
+spread rapidly from man to man; all received it with deep, though secret
+satisfaction. Their emotion was as natural as it was great. The affair
+broke the monotony of their lives, and gave them something to think of;
+but, above all, it was an escape, and as such, something to sympathise
+with deeply, and stirred fibres in the poor fellows which had long been
+without any exciting stimulus; something like hope and a disposition to
+confront their fate set their hearts beating, for the incident seemed to
+show that their hard lot was not hopelessly unchangeable.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you see they’ve got off in spite of them! Why shouldn’t we?”</p>
+
+<p>The thought came into every man’s mind, and made him stiffen his back
+and look at his neighbours in a defiant sort of way. All the convicts
+seemed to grow an inch taller on the strength of it, and to look down a
+bit upon the sub-officers. The heads of the place soon came running up,
+as you may imagine. The Governor now arrived in person. We fellows
+looked at them all with some assurance, with a touch of contempt, and
+with a very set expression of face, as though to say: “Well, you there?
+We can get out of your clutches when we’ve a mind to.”</p>
+
+<p>All the men were quite sure there would be a general searching of
+everything and everybody; so everything that was at all contraband was
+carefully hidden; for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> the authorities would want to show that precious
+wisdom of theirs which may be reckoned on after the event. The
+expectation was verified; there was a mighty turning of everything
+upside down and topsy-turvy, a general rummage, with the discovery of
+exactly nothing, as they might have known.</p>
+
+<p>When the time came for going out to work after dinner the usual escorts
+were doubled. When night came, the officers and sub-officers on service
+came pouncing on us at every moment to see if we were off our guard, and
+if anything could be got out of us; the lists were gone over once more
+than the usual number of times, which extra mustering only gave more
+trouble for nothing; we were hunted out of the court-yard that our names
+might be gone through again. Then, when in barrack, they reckoned us up
+another time, as if they never could be done with the exercise.</p>
+
+<p>The convicts were not at all disturbed by all this bustling absurdity.
+They put on a very unconcerned demeanour, and, as is always the case in
+such a conjuncture, behaved in the prettiest manner all that evening and
+night. “We won’t give them any handle anyhow,” was the general feeling.
+The question with the authorities was whether some among us were not in
+complicity with those who had got away, so a careful watch was kept over
+our doings, and a careful ear for our conversations; but nothing came of it.</p>
+
+<p>“Not such fools, those fellows, as to leave anybody behind who was in the secret!”</p>
+
+<p>“When you go at that sort of thing you lie low and play low!”</p>
+
+<p>“Koulikoff and A&mdash;v know enough to have covered up their tracks. They’ve
+done the trick in first-rate style, keeping things to themselves;
+they’ve mizzled, the rascals; clever chaps, those, they could get
+through shut doors!”</p>
+
+<p>The glory of Koulikoff and A&mdash;v had grown a hundred cubits higher than
+it was. Everybody was proud of them. Their exploit, it was felt, would
+be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> handed down to the most distant posterity, and outlive the jail
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>“Rattling fellows, those!” said one.</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t get away from here, eh? <i>That’s</i> their notion, is it? Just look
+at those chaps!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes,” said a third, looking very superior, “but who <i>is</i> it that has
+got away? Tip-top fellows. <i>You</i> can’t hold a candle to them.”</p>
+
+<p>At any other time the man to whom anything of that sort was said would
+have replied angrily enough, and defended himself; now the observation
+was met with modest silence.</p>
+
+<p>“True enough,” was said. “Everybody’s not a Koulikoff or an A&mdash;v, you’ve
+got to show what you’re made of before you’ve a right to speak.”</p>
+
+<p>“I say, pals, after all, why do we remain in the place?” struck in a
+prisoner seated by the kitchen window; he spoke drawlingly, but the man,
+you could see, enjoyed it all; he slowly rubbed his cheek with the palm
+of his hand. “Why do we stop? It’s no life at all, we’ve been buried,
+though we’re alive and kicking. Now <i>isn’t</i> it so?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, curse it, you can’t get out of prison as easy as shaking off an old
+boot. I tell you it sticks to your calves. What’s the good of pulling a
+long face over it?”</p>
+
+<p>“But, look here; there is Koulikoff now,” began one of the most eager, a mere lad.</p>
+
+<p>“Koulikoff!” exclaimed another, looking askance at the young fellow.
+“Koulikoff! They don’t turn out Koulikoffs by the dozen.”</p>
+
+<p>“And A&mdash;v, pals, there’s a lad for you!”</p>
+
+<p>“Aye, aye, he’ll get Koulikoff just where he wants him, as often as he
+wants him. He’s up to everything, he is.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder how far they’ve got; that’s what <i>I</i> want to know,” said one.</p>
+
+<p>Then the talk went off into details: Had they got far from the town?
+What direction did they go off in?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> <i>Which</i> gave them the best chance?
+Then they discussed distances, and as there were convicts who knew the
+neighbourhood well, these were attentively listened to.</p>
+
+<p>Next, they talked over the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, of
+whom they seemed to think as badly as possible. There was nobody in the
+neighbourhood, the convicts believed, who would hesitate at all as to
+the course to be pursued; nothing would induce them to help the
+runaways; quite the other way, these people would hunt them down.</p>
+
+<p>“If you only knew what bad fellows these peasants are! Rascally brutes!”</p>
+
+<p>“Peasants, indeed! Worthless scamps!”</p>
+
+<p>“These Siberians are as bad as bad can be. They think nothing of killing a man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, well, our fellows&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, that’s it, they may come off second best. Our fellows are as
+plucky as plucky can be.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, if we live long enough, we shall hear something about them soon.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, now, what do you <i>think</i>? Do you think they really will get clean
+away?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sure, as I live, that they’ll never be caught,” said one of the
+most excited, giving the table a great blow with his fist.</p>
+
+<p>“Hm! That’s as things turn out.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll tell you what, friends,” said Skouratof, “if I once got out, I’d
+stake my life they’d never get me again.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>You?</i>”</p>
+
+<p>Everybody burst out laughing. They would hardly condescend to listen to
+him; but Skouratof was not to be put down.</p>
+
+<p>“I tell you I’d stake my life on it!” with great energy. “Why, I made my
+mind up to <i>that</i> long ago. I’d find means of going through a key-hole
+rather than let them lay hands on me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, don’t you fear, when your belly got empty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> you’d just go creeping
+to a peasant and ask him for a morsel of something.”</p>
+
+<p>Fresh laughter.</p>
+
+<p>“I ask him for victuals? You’re a liar!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hold your jaw, can’t you? We know what you were sent here for. You and
+your Uncle Vacia killed some peasant for bewitching your cattle.”<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p>
+
+<p>More laughter. The more serious among them seemed very angry and indignant.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a liar,” cried Skouratof; “it’s Mikitka who told you that; I
+wasn’t in that at all, it was Uncle Vacia; don’t you mix my name up in
+it. I’m a Moscow man, and I’ve been on the tramp ever since I was a very
+small thing. Look here, when the priest taught me to read the liturgy,
+he used to pinch my ears, and say, ‘Repeat this after me: Have pity on
+me, Lord, out of Thy great goodness;’ and he used to make me say with
+him, ‘They’ve taken me up and brought me to the police-station out of
+Thy great goodness,’ and the like. I tell you that went on when I was
+quite a little fellow.”</p>
+
+<p>All laughed heartily again; that was what Skouratof wanted; he liked
+playing clown. Soon the talk became serious again, especially among the
+older men and those who knew a good deal about escapes. Those among the
+younger convicts who could keep themselves quiet enough to listen,
+seemed highly delighted. A great crowd was assembled in and about the
+kitchen. There were none of the warders about; so everybody could give
+vent to his feelings in talk or otherwise. One man I noticed who was
+particularly enjoying himself, a Tartar, a little fellow with high
+cheek-bones, and a remarkably droll face. His name was Mametka, he could
+scarcely speak Russian at all, but it was odd to see the way he craned
+his neck forward into the crowd, and the childish delight he showed.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p><p>“Well, Mametka, my lad, <i>iakchi</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Iakchi, ouk, iakchi!</i>” said Mametka as well as he could, shaking his
+grotesque head. “<i>Iakchi.</i>”</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll never catch them, eh? <i>Iok.</i>”</p>
+
+<p>“<i>Iok, iok!</i>” and Mametka waggled his head and threw his arms about.</p>
+
+<p>“You’re a liar, then, and I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hey!”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s it, that’s it, <i>iakchi</i>!” answered poor Mametka.</p>
+
+<p>“All right, good, <i>iakchi</i> it is!”</p>
+
+<p>Skouratof gave him a thump on the head, which sent his cap down over his
+eyes, and went out in high glee, and Mametka was quite chapfallen.</p>
+
+<p>For a week or so a very tight hand was kept on everybody in the jail,
+and the whole neighbourhood was repeatedly and carefully searched. How
+they managed it I cannot tell, but the prisoners always seemed to know
+all about the measures taken by the authorities for recovering the
+runaways. For some days, according to all we heard, things went very
+favourably for them; no traces whatever of them could be found. Our
+convicts made very light of all the authorities were about, and were
+quite at their ease about their friends, and kept saying that nothing
+would ever be found out about them.</p>
+
+<p>All the peasants round about were roused, we were told, and watching all
+the likely places, woods, ravines, etc.</p>
+
+<p>“Stuff and nonsense!” said our fellows, who had a grin on their faces
+most of the time, “they’re hidden at somebody’s place who’s a friend.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s certain; they’re not the fellows to chance things, they’ve made
+all sure.”</p>
+
+<p>The general idea was, in fact, that they were still concealed in the
+suburbs of the town, in a cellar, waiting till the hue and cry was over,
+and for their hair to grow; that they would remain there perhaps six
+months at least, and then quietly go off. All the prisoners were in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span>
+most fanciful and romantic state of mind about the things. Suddenly,
+eight days after the escape, a rumour spread that the authorities were
+on their track. This rumour was at first treated with contempt, but
+towards evening there seemed to be more in it. The convicts became much
+excited. Next morning it was said in the town that the runaways had been
+caught, and were being brought back. After dinner there were further
+details; the story was that they had been seized at a hamlet, seventy
+versts away from the town. At last we had fully confirmed tidings. The
+sergeant-major positively asserted, immediately after an interview with
+the Major, that they would be brought into the guard-house that very
+night. They were taken; there could be no doubt of it.</p>
+
+<p>It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the way the convicts were
+affected by the news. At first their rage was great, then they were
+deeply dejected. Then they began to be bitter and sarcastic, pouring all
+their scorn, not on the authorities, but on the runaways who had been
+such fools as to get caught. A few began this, then nearly all joined,
+except a small number of the more serious, thoughtful ones, who held
+their tongues, and seemed to regard the thoughtless fellows with great contempt.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Koulikoff and A&mdash;v were now just as heartily abused as they had
+been glorified before; the men seemed to take a delight in running them
+down, as though in being caught they had done something wantonly
+offensive to their mates. It was said, with high contempt, that the
+fellows had probably got hungry and couldn’t stand it, and had gone into
+a village to ask bread of the peasants, which, according to tramp
+etiquette, it appears, is to come down very low in the world indeed. In
+this supposition the men turned out to be quite mistaken; for what had
+happened was that the tracks of the runaways out of the town were
+discovered and followed up; they were ascertained to have got into a
+wood, which was surrounded, so that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> the fugitives had no recourse but
+to give themselves up.</p>
+
+<p>They were brought in that night, tied hands and feet, under armed
+escort. All the convicts ran hastily to the palisades to see what would
+be done with them; but they saw nothing except the carriages of the
+Governor and the Major, which were waiting in front of the guard-house.
+The fugitives were ironed and locked up separately, their punishment
+being adjourned till the next day. The prisoners began all to sympathise
+with the unhappy fellows when they heard how they had been taken, and
+learned that they could not help themselves, and the anxiety about the
+issue was keen.</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll get a thousand at least.”</p>
+
+<p>“A thousand, is it? I tell you they’ll have it till the life is beaten
+out of them. A&mdash;v may get off with a thousand, but the other they’ll
+kill; why, he’s in the ‘special section.’”</p>
+
+<p>They were wrong. A&mdash;v was sentenced to five hundred strokes, his
+previous good conduct told in his favour, and this was his first prison
+offence. Koulikoff, I believe, had fifteen hundred. The punishment, upon
+the whole, was mild rather than severe.</p>
+
+<p>The two men showed good sense and feeling, for they gave nobody’s name
+as having helped them, and positively declared that they had made
+straight for the woods without going into anybody’s house. I was very
+sorry for Koulikoff; to say nothing of the heavy beating he got; he had
+thrown away all his chances of having his lot as a prisoner lightened.
+Later he was sent to another convict establishment. A&mdash;v did not get all
+he was sentenced to; the physicians interfered, and he was let off. But
+as soon as he was safe in the hospital he began blowing his trumpet
+again, and said he would stick at nothing now, and that they should soon
+see what he would do. Koulikoff was not changed a bit, as decorous as
+ever, and gave himself just the same airs as ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span>; manner or words to
+show that he had had such an adventure. But the convicts looked on him
+quite differently; he seemed to have come down a good deal in their
+estimation, and now to be on their own level every way, instead of being
+a superior creature. So it was that poor Koulikoff’s star paled; success
+is everything in this world.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> The expression of the original is untranslatable;
+literally “you killed a cattle-kill.” This phrase means murder of a
+peasant, male or female, supposed to bewitch cattle. We had in our jail
+a murderer who had done this cattle-kill.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dosto&iuml;effsky’s Note.</span></p></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3><span>CHAPTER X.</span> <span class="smaller">FREEDOM!</span></h3>
+
+<p>This incident occurred during my last year of imprisonment. My
+recollection of what occurred this last year is as keen as of the events
+of the first years; but I have gone into detail enough. In spite of my
+impatience to be out, this year was the least trying of all the years I
+spent there. I had now many friends and acquaintances among the
+convicts, who had by this time made up their minds very much in my
+favour. Many of them, indeed, had come to feel a sincere and genuine
+affection for me. The soldier who was assigned to accompany my friend
+and myself&mdash;simultaneously discharged&mdash;out of the prison, very nearly
+cried when the time for leaving came. And when we were at last in full
+freedom, staying in the rooms of the Government building placed at our
+disposal for the month we still spent in the town, this man came nearly
+every day to see us. But there were some men whom I could never soften
+or win any regard from&mdash;God knows why&mdash;and who showed just the same hard
+aversion for me at the last as at the first; something we could not get
+over stood between us.</p>
+
+<p>I had more indulgences during the last year. I found among the military
+functionaries of our town old acquaintances, and even some old
+schoolfellows, and the renewal of these relations helped me. Thanks to
+them I got permission to have some money, to write to my family, and
+even to have some books. For some years I had not had a single volume,
+and words would fail to tell the strange, deep emotion and excitement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span>
+which the first book I read at the jail caused me. I began to devour it
+at night, when the doors were closed, and read it till the break of day.
+It was a number of a review, and it seemed to me like a messenger from
+the other world. As I read, my life before the prison days seemed to
+rise up before me in sharp definition, as of some existence independent
+of my own, which another soul had had. Then I tried to get some clear
+idea of my relation to current events and things; whether my arrears of
+knowledge and experience were too great to make up; whether the men and
+women out of doors had lived and gone through many things and great
+during the time I was away from them; and great was my desire to
+thoroughly understand what was <i>now</i> going on, <i>now</i> that I could know
+something about it all at last. All the words I read were as palpable
+things, which I wanted rather to feel sensibly than get mere meaning out
+of; I tried to see more in the text than <i>could</i> be there. I imagined
+some mysterious meanings that <i>must</i> be in them, and tried at every page
+to see allusions to the past, with which my mind was familiar, whether
+they were there or not; at every turn of the leaf I sought for traces of
+what had deeply moved people before the days of my bondage; and deep was
+my dejection when it was forced on my mind that a new state of things
+had arisen; a new life, among my kind, which was alien to my knowledge
+and my sentiments. I felt as if I was a straggler, left behind and lost
+in the onward march of mankind.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, there were indeed arrears, if the word is not too weak.</p>
+
+<p>For the truth is, that another generation had come up, and I knew it
+not, and it knew not me. At the foot of one article I saw the name of
+one who had been dear to me; with what avidity I flung myself on <i>that</i>
+paper! But the other names were nearly all new to me; new workers had
+come upon the scene, and I was eager to know their doings and
+themselves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> It made me feel nearly desperate to have so few books, and
+to know how hard it would be to get more. At an earlier date, in the old
+Major’s time, it was a dangerous thing indeed to bring books into the
+jail. If one was found when the whole place was searched, as was
+regularly done, great was the disturbance, and no efforts were spared to
+find out how they got in, and who had helped in the offence. I did not
+want to be subjected to insulting scrutiny, and, if I had, it would have
+been useless. I <i>had</i> to live without books, and did, shut up in myself,
+tormenting myself with many a question and problem on which I had no
+means of throwing any light. But I can <i>never</i> tell it all.</p>
+
+<p>It was in winter that I came in, so in winter I was to leave, on the
+anniversary-day. Oh, with what impatience did I look forward to the
+thrice-blessed winter! How gladly did I see the summer die out, the
+leaves turn yellow on the trees, the grass turn dry over the wide
+steppe! Summer is gone at last! the winds of autumn howl and groan, the
+first snow falls in whirling flakes. The winter, so long, long-prayed
+for, is come, come at last. Oh, how the heart beats with the thought
+that freedom was really, at last, at last, close at hand. Yet it was
+strange, as the time of times, the day of days, grew nearer and nearer,
+so did my soul grow quieter and quieter. I was annoyed at myself,
+reproached myself even with being cold, indifferent. Many of the
+convicts, as I met them in the court-yard when the day’s work was done,
+used to get out, and talk with me to wish me joy.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, little Father Alexander Petrovitch, you’ll soon be out now! And
+here you’ll leave us poor devils behind!”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Mertynof, have you long to wait still?” I asked the man who spoke.</p>
+
+<p>“I! Oh, good Lord, I’ve seven years of it yet to weary through.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the man sighed with a far-away, wandering look, as if he was gazing
+into those intolerable days<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> to come.... Yes, many of my companions
+congratulated me in a way that showed they really felt what they said. I
+saw, too, that there was more disposition to meet me as man to man, they
+drew nearer to me as I was to leave them; the halo of freedom began to
+surround me, and caring for that they cared more for me. It was in this
+spirit they bade me farewell.</p>
+
+<p>K&mdash;schniski, a young Polish noble, a sweet and amiable person, was very
+fond, about this time, of walking in the court-yard with me. The
+stifling nights in the barracks did him much harm, so he tried his best
+to keep his health by getting all the exercise and fresh air he could.</p>
+
+<p>“I am looking forward impatiently to the day when <i>you</i> will be set
+free,” he said with a smile one day, “for when you go I shall <i>realise</i>
+that I have just one year more of it to undergo.”</p>
+
+<p>Need I say what I can yet not help saying, that freedom in idea always
+seemed to us who were there something <i>more</i> free than it ever can be in
+reality? That was because our fancy was always dwelling upon it.
+Prisoners always exaggerate when they think of freedom and look on a
+free man; we did certainly; the poorest servant of one of the officers
+there seemed a sort of king to us, everything we could imagine in a free
+man, compared with ourselves at least; he had no irons on his limbs, his
+head was not shaven, he could go where and when he liked, with no
+soldiers to watch and escort him.</p>
+
+<p>The day before I was set free, as night fell I went <i>for the last time</i>
+all through and all round the prison. How many a thousand times had I
+made the circuit of those palisades during those ten years! There, at
+the rear of the barracks, had I gone to and fro during the whole of that
+first year, a solitary, despairing man. I remember how I used to reckon
+up the days I had still to pass there&mdash;thousands, thousands! God! how
+long ago it seemed. There’s the corner where the poor prisoned eagle
+wasted away; Petroff used often to come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> to me at that place. It seemed
+as if the man would never leave my side now; he would place himself by
+my side and walk along without ever saying a word, as though he knew all
+my thoughts as well as myself, and there was always a strange,
+inexplicable sort of wondering look on the man’s face.</p>
+
+<p>How many a mental farewell did I take of the black, squared beams in our
+barracks! Ah, me! How much joyless youth, how much strength for which
+use there was none, was buried, lost in those walls!&mdash;youth and strength
+of which the world might surely have made <i>some</i> use. For I must speak
+my thoughts as to this: the hapless fellows there were perhaps the
+strongest, and, in one way or another, the most gifted of our people.
+There was all that strength of body and of mind lost, hopelessly lost.
+Whose fault is that?</p>
+
+<p>Yes; whose fault <i>is</i> that?</p>
+
+<p>The next day, at an early hour, before the men were mustered for work, I
+went through all the barracks to bid the men a last farewell. Many a
+vigorous, horny hand was held out to me with right good-will. Some
+grasped and shook my hand as though all their hearts went with the act;
+but these were the more generous souls. Most of the poor fellows seemed
+so much to feel that, for them, I was already a man changed by what was
+coming, that they could feel scarce anything else. They knew that I had
+friends in the town, that I was going away at once to <i>gentlemen</i>, that
+I should sit at their table as their equal. This the poor fellows felt;
+and, although they did their best as they took my hand, that hand could
+not be the hand of an equal. No; I, too, was a gentleman now. Some
+turned their backs on me, and made no reply to my parting words. I
+think, too, that I saw looks of aversion on some faces.</p>
+
+<p>The drum beat; all the convicts went to their work; and I was left to
+myself. Souchiloff had got up before everybody that morning, and now set
+himself tremblingly to the task of getting ready for me a last cup of
+tea. Poor Souchiloff! How he cried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> when I gave him my clothes, my
+shirts, my trouser-straps, and some money.</p>
+
+<p>“’Tain’t that, ’tain’t that,” he said, and he bit his trembling lips,
+“it’s that I am going to lose you, Alexander Petrovitch! What <i>shall</i> I
+do without you?”</p>
+
+<p>There was Akim Akimitch, too; him, also, I bade farewell.</p>
+
+<p>“Your turn to go will come soon, I pray,” said I.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, no! I shall remain here long, long, very long yet,” he just managed
+to say, as he pressed my hand. I threw myself on his neck; we kissed.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes after the convicts had gone out, my companion and myself
+left the jail <i>for ever</i>. We went to the blacksmith’s shop, where our
+irons were struck off. We had no armed escort, we went there attended by
+a single sub-officer. It was convicts who struck off our irons in the
+engineers’ workshop. I let them do it for my friend first, then went to
+the anvil myself. The smiths made me turn round, seized my leg, and
+stretched it on the anvil. Then they went about the business
+methodically, as though they wanted to make a very neat job of it indeed.</p>
+
+<p>“The rivet, man, turn the rivet first,” I heard the master smith say;
+“there, so, so. Now, a stroke of the hammer!”</p>
+
+<p>The irons fell. I lifted them up. Some strange impulse made me long to
+have them in my hands for one last time. I couldn’t realise that, only a
+moment before, they had been on my limbs.</p>
+
+<p>“Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye!” said the convicts in their broken
+voices; but they seemed pleased as they said it.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, farewell!</p>
+
+<p>Liberty! New life! Resurrection from the dead!</p>
+
+<p>Unspeakable moment!</p>
+
+
+<p class="bold">THE END</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE TEMPLE PRESS, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH</p>
+
+<p class="center transnote">
+Note: On <a href="#Page_325">page 325</a>, “the other two were the spy A----n” changed to
+“the other two were the spy A--v”</p>
+
+
+
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The House of the Dead or Prison Life in
+Siberia, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The House of the Dead or Prison Life in Siberia
+       with and introduction by Julius Bramont
+
+Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
+
+Editor: Ernest Rhys
+
+Release Date: September 25, 2011 [EBook #37536]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY
+EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS
+
+FICTION
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD
+
+WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY JULIUS BRAMONT
+
+
+THE PUBLISHERS OF _EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY_ WILL BE PLEASED TO SEND FREELY
+TO ALL APPLICANTS A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED AND PROJECTED VOLUMES TO BE
+COMPRISED UNDER THE FOLLOWING THIRTEEN HEADINGS:
+
+TRAVEL
+SCIENCE
+FICTION
+THEOLOGY & PHILOSOPHY
+HISTORY
+CLASSICAL
+FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
+ESSAYS
+ORATORY
+POETRY & DRAMA
+BIOGRAPHY
+REFERENCE
+ROMANCE
+
+[Illustration: Decoration]
+
+IN FOUR STYLES OF BINDING: CLOTH, FLAT BACK, COLOURED TOP; LEATHER,
+ROUND CORNERS, GILT TOP; LIBRARY BINDING IN CLOTH, & QUARTER PIGSKIN
+
+LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS, LTD. NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
+
+
+A TALE WHICH HOLDETH CHILDREN FROM PLAY
+& OLD MEN FROM THE CHIMNEY CORNER
+
+SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSE _of the_ DEAD
+_or Prison Life in Siberia_
+
+BY FEDOR DOSTO�EFFSKY
+
+[Illustration: Decoration]
+
+LONDON: PUBLISHED
+by J.M. DENT & SONS LTD
+AND IN NEW YORK
+BY E. P. DUTTON & CO
+
+
+FIRST ISSUE OF THIS EDITION       1911
+REPRINTED                         1914
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+"The Russian nation is a new and wonderful phenomenon in the history of
+mankind. The character of the people differs to such a degree from that
+of the other Europeans that their neighbours find it impossible to
+diagnose them." This affirmation by Dosto�effsky, the prophetic
+journalist, offers a key to the treatment in his novels of the troubles
+and aspirations of his race. He wrote with a sacramental fervour whether
+he was writing as a personal agent or an impersonal, novelist or
+journalist. Hence his rage with the calmer men, more gracious
+interpreters of the modern Sclav, who like Ivan Tourguenieff were able
+to see Russia on a line with the western nations, or to consider her
+maternal throes from the disengaged, safe retreat of an arm-chair exile
+in Paris. Not so was _l'�me Russe_ to be given her new literature in the
+eyes of M. Dosto�effsky, strained with watching, often red with tears
+and anger.
+
+Those other nations, he said--proudly looking for the symptoms of the
+world-intelligence in his own--those other nations of Europe may
+maintain that they have at heart a common aim and a common ideal. In
+fact they are divided among themselves by a thousand interests,
+territorial or other. Each pulls his own way with ever-growing
+determination. It would seem that every individual nation aspires to the
+discovery of the universal ideal for humanity, and is bent on attaining
+that ideal by force of its own unaided strength. Hence, he argued, each
+European nation is an enemy to its own welfare and that of the world in
+general.
+
+To this very disassociation he attributed, without quite understanding
+the rest of us, our not understanding the Russian people, and our taxing
+them with "a lack of personality." We failed to perceive their rare
+synthetic power--that faculty of the Russian mind to read the
+aspirations of the whole of human kind. Among his own folk, he avowed,
+we would find none of the imperviousness, the intolerance, of the
+average European. The Russian adapts himself with ease to the play of
+contemporary thought and has no difficulty in assimilating any new idea.
+He sees where it will help his fellow-creatures and where it fails to be
+of value. He divines the process by which ideas, even the most
+divergent, the most hostile to one another, may meet and blend.
+
+Possibly, recognising this, M. Dosto�effsky was the more concerned not
+to be too far depolarised, or say de-Russified, in his own works of
+fiction. But in truth he had no need to fear any weakening of his
+natural fibre and racial proclivities, or of the authentic utterance
+wrung out of him by the hard and cruel thongs of experience. We see the
+rigorous sincerity of his record again in the sheer autobiography
+contained in the present work, _The House of the Dead_. It was in the
+fatal winter of 1849 when he was with many others, mostly very young men
+like himself, sentenced to death for his liberal political propaganda; a
+sentence which was at the last moment commuted to imprisonment in the
+Siberian prisons. Out of that terror, which turned youth grey, was
+distilled the terrible reality of _The House of the Dead_. If one would
+truly fathom how deep that reality is, and what its phenomenon in
+literature amounts to, one should turn again to that favourite idyllic
+book of youth, by my countrywoman Mme. Cottin, _Elizabeth, or the Exiles
+of Siberia_, and compare, for example, the typical scene of Elizabeth's
+sleep in the wooden chapel in the snow, where she ought to have been
+frozen to death but fared very comfortably, with the Siberian actuality
+of Dosto�effsky.
+
+But he was no idyllist, though he could be tender as Mme. Cottin
+herself. What he felt about these things you can tell from his stories.
+If a more explicit statement in the theoretic side be asked of him, take
+this plain avowal from his confession books of 1870-77:--
+
+"There is no denying that the people are morally ill, with a grave,
+although not a mortal, malady, one to which it is difficult to assign a
+name. May we call it 'An unsatisfied thirst for truth'? The people are
+seeking eagerly and untiringly for truth and for the ways that lead to
+it, but hitherto they have failed in their search. After the liberation
+of the serfs, this great longing for truth appeared among the
+people--for truth perfect and entire, and with it the resurrection of
+civic life. There was a clamouring for a 'new Gospel'; new ideas and
+feelings became manifest; and a great hope rose up among the people
+believing that these great changes were precursors of a state of things
+which never came to pass."
+
+There is the accent of his hope and his despair. Let it prove to you the
+conviction with which he wrote these tragic pages, one that is affecting
+at this moment the destiny of Russia and the spirit of us who watch her
+as profoundly moved spectators.
+
+JULIUS BRAMONT.
+
+
+
+
+BIBLIOGRAPHY
+
+(_Dosto�effsky's works, so far as they have appeared in English._)
+
+
+     Translations of Dosto�effsky's novels have appeared as
+     follows:--Buried Alive; or, Ten Years of Penal Servitude in
+     Siberia, translated by Marie v. Thilo, 1881. In Vizetelly's One
+     Volume Novels: Crime and Punishment, vol. 13; Injury and Insult,
+     translated by F. Whishaw, vol. 17; The Friend of the Family and the
+     Gambler, etc., vol. 22. In Vizetelly's Russian Novels: The Idiot,
+     by F. Whishaw, 1887; Uncle's Dream; and, The Permanent Husband,
+     etc., 1888. Prison Life in Siberia, translated by H. S. Edwards,
+     1888; Poor Folk, translated by L. Milman, 1894.
+
+     See D. S. Merezhkovsky, Tolstoi as Man and Artist, with Essay on
+     Dosto�effsky, translated from the Russian, 1902; M. Baring,
+     Landmarks in Russian Literature (chapter on Dosto�effsky), 1910.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                          PART I
+
+CHAP.                                            PAGE
+
+   I. TEN YEARS A CONVICT                            1
+  II. THE DEAD-HOUSE                                 7
+ III. FIRST IMPRESSIONS                             24
+  IV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)               43
+   V. FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)               61
+  VI. THE FIRST MONTH                               80
+ VII. THE FIRST MONTH (_continued_)                 95
+VIII. NEW ACQUAINTANCES--PETROFF                   110
+  IX. MEN OF DETERMINATION--LUKA                   125
+   X. ISAIAH FOMITCH--THE BATH--BAKLOUCHIN         133
+  XI. THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS                       152
+ XII. THE PERFORMANCE                              171
+
+
+                          PART II
+
+   I. THE HOSPITAL                                 194
+  II. THE HOSPITAL (_continued_)                   209
+ III. THE HOSPITAL (_continued_)                   225
+  IV. THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA                       248
+   V. THE SUMMER SEASON                            264
+  VI. THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT     286
+ VII. GRIEVANCES                                   302
+VIII. MY COMPANIONS                                325
+  IX. THE ESCAPE                                   344
+   X. FREEDOM!                                     363
+
+
+
+
+PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA.
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+TEN YEARS A CONVICT
+
+
+In the midst of the steppes, of the mountains, of the impenetrable
+forests of the desert regions of Siberia, one meets from time to time
+with little towns of a thousand or two inhabitants, built entirely of
+wood, very ugly, with two churches--one in the centre of the town, the
+other in the cemetery--in a word, towns which bear much more resemblance
+to a good-sized village in the suburbs of Moscow than to a town properly
+so called. In most cases they are abundantly provided with
+police-master, assessors, and other inferior officials. If it is cold in
+Siberia, the great advantages of the Government service compensate for
+it. The inhabitants are simple people, without liberal ideas. Their
+manners are antique, solid, and unchanged by time. The officials who
+form, and with reason, the nobility in Siberia, either belong to the
+country, deeply-rooted Siberians, or they have arrived there from
+Russia. The latter come straight from the capitals, tempted by the high
+pay, the extra allowance for travelling expenses, and by hopes not less
+seductive for the future. Those who know how to resolve the problem of
+life remain almost always in Siberia; the abundant and richly-flavoured
+fruit which they gather there recompenses them amply for what they lose.
+
+As for the others, light-minded persons who are unable to deal with the
+problem, they are soon bored in Siberia, and ask themselves with regret
+why they committed the folly of coming. They impatiently kill the three
+years which they are obliged by rule to remain, and as soon as their
+time is up, they beg to be sent back, and return to their original
+quarters, running down Siberia, and ridiculing it. They are wrong, for
+it is a happy country, not only as regards the Government service, but
+also from many other points of view.
+
+The climate is excellent, the merchants are rich and hospitable, the
+Europeans in easy circumstances are numerous; as for the young girls,
+they are like roses and their morality is irreproachable. Game is to be
+found in the streets, and throws itself upon the sportsman's gun. People
+drink champagne in prodigious quantities. The caviare is astonishingly
+good and most abundant. In a word, it is a blessed land, out of which it
+is only necessary to be able to make profit; and much profit is really
+made.
+
+It is in one of these little towns--gay and perfectly satisfied with
+themselves, the population of which has left upon me the most agreeable
+impression--that I met an exile, Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff,
+formerly a landed proprietor in Russia. He had been condemned to hard
+labour of the second class for assassinating his wife. After undergoing
+his punishment--ten years of hard labour--he lived quietly and unnoticed
+as a colonist in the little town of K----. To tell the truth, he was
+inscribed in one of the surrounding districts; but he resided at K----,
+where he managed to get a living by giving lessons to children. In the
+towns of Siberia one often meets with exiles who are occupied with
+instruction. They are not looked down upon, for they teach the French
+language, so necessary in life, and of which without them one would not,
+in the distant parts of Siberia, have the least idea.
+
+I saw Alexander Petrovitch the first time at the house of an official,
+Ivan Ivanitch Gvosdikof, a venerable old man, very hospitable, and the
+father of five daughters, of whom the greatest hopes were entertained.
+Four times a week Alexander Petrovitch gave them lessons, at the rate of
+thirty kopecks silver a lesson. His external appearance interested me.
+He was excessively pale and thin, still young--about thirty-five years
+of age--short and weak, always very neatly dressed in the European
+style. When you spoke to him he looked at you in a very attentive
+manner, listening to your words with strict politeness, and with a
+reflective air, as though you had placed before him a problem or wished
+to extract from him a secret. He replied clearly and shortly; but in
+doing so, weighed each word, so that one felt ill at ease without
+knowing why, and was glad when the conversation came to an end. I put
+some questions to Ivan Gvosdikof in regard to him. He told me that
+Goriantchikoff was of irreproachable morals, otherwise Gvosdikof would
+not have entrusted him with the education of his children; but that he
+was a terrible misanthrope, who kept apart from all society; that he was
+very learned, a great reader, and that he spoke but little, and never
+entered freely into a conversation. Certain persons told him that he was
+mad; but that was not looked upon as a very serious defect. Accordingly,
+the most important persons in the town were ready to treat Alexander
+Petrovitch with respect, for he could be useful to them in writing
+petitions. It was believed that he was well connected in Russia.
+Perhaps, among his relations, there were some who were highly placed;
+but it was known that since his exile he had broken off all relations
+with them. In a word--he injured himself. Every one knew his story, and
+was aware that he had killed his wife, through jealousy, less than a
+year after his marriage; and that he had given himself up to justice;
+which had made his punishment much less severe. Such crimes are always
+looked upon as misfortunes, which must be treated with pity.
+Nevertheless, this original kept himself obstinately apart, and never
+showed himself except to give lessons. In the first instance I paid no
+attention to him; then, without knowing why, I found myself interested
+by him. He was rather enigmatic; to talk with him was quite impossible.
+Certainly he replied to all my questions; he seemed to make it a duty to
+do so; but when once he had answered, I was afraid to interrogate him
+any longer.
+
+After such conversations one could observe on his countenance signs of
+suffering and exhaustion. I remember that, one fine summer evening, I
+went out with him from the house of Ivan Gvosdikof. It suddenly occurred
+to me to invite him to come in with me and smoke a cigarette. I can
+scarcely describe the fright which showed itself in his countenance. He
+became confused, muttered incoherent words, and suddenly, after looking
+at me with an angry air, took to flight in an opposite direction. I was
+very much astonished afterwards, when he met me. He seemed to
+experience, on seeing me, a sort of terror; but I did not lose courage.
+There was something in him which attracted me.
+
+A month afterwards I went to see Petrovitch without any pretext. It is
+evident that, in doing so, I behaved foolishly, and without the least
+delicacy. He lived at one of the extreme points of the town with an old
+woman whose daughter was in a consumption. The latter had a little child
+about ten years old, very pretty and very lively.
+
+When I went in Alexander Petrovitch was seated by her side, and was
+teaching her to read. When he saw me he became confused, as if I had
+detected him in a crime. Losing all self-command, he suddenly stood up
+and looked at me with awe and astonishment. Then we both of us sat down.
+He followed attentively all my looks, as if I had suspected him of some
+mysterious intention. I understood he was horribly mistrustful. He
+looked at me as a sort of spy, and he seemed to be on the point of
+saying, "Are you not soon going away?"
+
+I spoke to him of our little town, of the news of the day, but he was
+silent, or smiled with an air of displeasure. I could see that he was
+absolutely ignorant of all that was taking place in the town, and that
+he was in no way curious to know. I spoke to him afterwards of the
+country generally, and of its men. He listened to me still in silence,
+fixing his eyes upon me in such a strange way that I became ashamed of
+what I was doing. I was very nearly offending him by offering him some
+books and newspapers which I had just received by post. He cast a greedy
+look upon them; he then seemed to alter his mind, and declined my offer,
+giving his want of leisure as a pretext.
+
+At last I wished him good-bye, and I felt a weight fall from my
+shoulders as I left the house. I regretted to have harassed a man whose
+tastes kept him apart from the rest of the world. But the fault had been
+committed. I had remarked that he possessed very few books. It was not
+true, then, that he read so much. Nevertheless, on two occasions when I
+drove past, I saw a light in his lodging. What could make him sit up so
+late? Was he writing, and if that were so, what was he writing?
+
+I was absent from our town for about three months. When I returned home
+in the winter, I learned that Petrovitch was dead, and that he had not
+even sent for a doctor. He was even now already forgotten, and his
+lodging was unoccupied. I at once made the acquaintance of his landlady,
+in the hope of learning from her what her lodger had been writing. For
+twenty kopecks she brought me a basket full of papers left by the
+defunct, and confessed to me that she had already employed four sheets
+in lighting her fire. She was a morose and taciturn old woman. I could
+not get from her anything that was interesting. She could tell me
+nothing about her lodger. She gave me to understand all the same that he
+scarcely ever worked, and that he remained for months together without
+opening a book or touching a pen. On the other hand, he walked all night
+up and down his room, given up to his reflections. Sometimes, indeed, he
+spoke aloud. He was very fond of her little grandchild, Katia, above all
+when he knew her name; on her name's-day--the day of St. Catherine--he
+always had a requiem said in the church for some one's soul. He detested
+receiving visits, and never went out except to give lessons. Even his
+landlady he looked upon with an unfriendly eye when, once a week, she
+came into his room to put it in order.
+
+During the three years he had passed with her, he had scarcely ever
+spoken to her. I asked Katia if she remembered him. She looked at me in
+silence, and turned weeping to the wall. This man, then, was loved by
+some one! I took away the papers, and passed the day in examining them.
+They were for the most part of no importance, merely children's
+exercises. At last I came to a rather thick packet, the sheets of which
+were covered with delicate handwriting, which abruptly ceased. It had
+perhaps been forgotten by the writer. It was the narrative--incoherent
+and fragmentary--of the ten years Alexander Petrovitch had passed in
+hard labour. This narrative was interrupted, here and there, either by
+anecdotes, or by strange, terrible recollections thrown in convulsively
+as if torn from the writer. I read some of these fragments again and
+again, and I began to doubt whether they had not been written in moments
+of madness; but these memories of the convict prison--"Recollections of
+the Dead-House," as he himself called them somewhere in his
+manuscript--seemed to me not without interest. They revealed quite a new
+world unknown till then; and in the strangeness of his facts, together
+with his singular remarks on this fallen people, there was enough to
+tempt me to go on. I may perhaps be wrong, but I will publish some
+chapters from this narrative, and the public shall judge for itself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE DEAD-HOUSE
+
+
+Our prison was at the end of the citadel behind the ramparts. Looking
+through the crevices between the palisade in the hope of seeing
+something, one sees nothing but a little corner of the sky, and a high
+earthwork, covered with the long grass of the steppe. Night and day
+sentries walk to and fro upon it. Then one perceives from the first,
+that whole years will pass during which one will see by the same
+crevices between the palisades, upon the same earthwork, always the same
+sentinels and the same little corner of the sky, not just above the
+prison, but far and far away. Represent to yourself a court-yard, two
+hundred feet long, and one hundred and fifty feet broad, enclosed by an
+irregular hexagonal palisade, formed of stakes thrust deep into the
+earth. So much for the external surroundings of the prison. On one side
+of the palisade is a great gate, solid, and always shut; watched
+perpetually by the sentinels, and never opened, except when the convicts
+go out to work. Beyond this, there are light and liberty, the life of
+free people! Beyond the palisade, one thought of the marvellous world,
+fantastic as a fairy tale. It was not the same on our side. Here, there
+was no resemblance to anything. Habits, customs, laws, were all
+precisely fixed. It was the house of living death. It is this corner
+that I undertake to describe.
+
+On penetrating into the enclosure one sees a few buildings. On each
+side of a vast court are stretched forth two wooden constructions, made
+of trunks of trees, and only one storey high. These are convicts'
+barracks. Here the prisoners are confined, divided into several classes.
+At the end of the enclosure may be seen a house, which serves as a
+kitchen, divided into two compartments. Behind it is another building,
+which serves at once as cellar, loft, and barn. The centre of the
+enclosure, completely barren, is a large open space. Here the prisoners
+are drawn up in ranks, three times a day. They are identified, and must
+answer to their names, morning, noon, and evening, besides several times
+in the course of the day if the soldiers on guard are suspicious and
+clever at counting. All around, between the palisades and the buildings
+there remains a sufficiently large space, where some of the prisoners
+who are misanthropes, or of a sombre turn of mind, like to walk about
+when they are not at work. There they go turning over their favourite
+thoughts, shielded from all observation.
+
+When I met them during those walks of theirs, I took pleasure in
+observing their sad, deeply-marked countenances, and in guessing their
+thoughts. The favourite occupation of one of the convicts, during the
+moments of liberty left to him from his hard labour, was to count the
+palisades. There were fifteen hundred of them. He had counted them all,
+and knew them nearly by heart. Every one of them represented to him a
+day of confinement; but, counting them daily in this manner, he knew
+exactly the number of days that he had still to pass in the prison. He
+was sincerely happy when he had finished one side of the hexagon; yet he
+had to wait for his liberation many long years. But one learns patience
+in a prison.
+
+One day I saw a prisoner, who had undergone his punishment, take leave
+of his comrades. He had had twenty years' hard labour. More than one
+convict remembered seeing him arrive, quite young, careless, thinking
+neither of his crime nor of his punishment. He was now an old man with
+gray hairs, with a sad and morose countenance. He walked in silence
+through our six barracks. When he entered each of them he prayed before
+the holy image, made a deep bow to his former companions, and begged
+them not to keep a bad recollection of him.
+
+I also remember one evening, a prisoner, who had been formerly a
+well-to-do Siberian peasant, so called. Six years before he had had news
+of his wife's remarrying, which had caused him great pain. That very
+evening she had come to the prison, and had asked for him in order to
+make him a present! They talked together for two minutes, wept together,
+and then separated never to meet again. I saw the expression of this
+prisoner's countenance when he re-entered the barracks. There, indeed,
+one learns to support everything.
+
+When darkness set in we had to re-enter the barrack, where we were shut
+up for all the night. It was always painful for me to leave the
+court-yard for the barrack. Think of a long, low, stifling room,
+scarcely lighted by tallow candles, and full of heavy and disgusting
+odours. I cannot now understand how I lived there for ten entire years.
+My camp bedstead was made of three boards. This was the only place in
+the room that belonged to me. In one single room we herded together,
+more than thirty men. It was, above all, no wonder that we were shut up
+early. Four hours at least passed before every one was asleep, and,
+until then, there was a tumult and uproar of laughter, oaths, rattling
+of chains, a poisonous vapour of thick smoke; a confusion of shaved
+heads, stigmatised foreheads, and ragged clothes disgustingly filthy.
+
+Yes, man is a pliable animal--he must be so defined--a being who gets
+accustomed to everything! That would be, perhaps, the best definition
+that could be given of him. There were altogether two hundred and fifty
+of us in the same prison. This number was almost invariably the same.
+Whenever some of them had undergone their punishment, other criminals
+arrived, and a few of them died. Among them there were all sorts of
+people. I believe that each region of Russia had furnished its
+representatives. There were foreigners there, and even mountaineers from
+the Caucasus.
+
+All these people were divided into different classes, according to the
+importance of the crime; and consequently the duration of the punishment
+for the crime, whatever it might be, was there represented. The
+population of the prison was composed for the most part of men condemned
+to hard labour of the civil class--"strongly condemned," as the
+prisoners used to say. They were criminals deprived of all civil rights,
+men rejected by society, vomited forth by it, and whose faces were
+marked by the iron to testify eternally to their disgrace. They were
+incarcerated for different periods of time, varying from eight to ten
+years. At the expiration of their punishment they were sent to the
+Siberian districts in the character of colonists.
+
+As to the criminals of the military section, they were not deprived of
+their civil rights--as is generally the case in Russian disciplinary
+companies--but were punished for a relatively short period. As soon as
+they had undergone their punishment they had to return to the place
+whence they had come, and became soldiers in the battalions of the
+Siberian Line.[1]
+
+Many of them came back to us afterwards, for serious crimes, this time
+not for a small number of years, but for twenty at least. They then
+formed part of the section called "for perpetuity." Nevertheless, the
+perpetuals were not deprived of their right. There was another section
+sufficiently numerous, composed of the worst malefactors, nearly all
+veterans in crime, and which was called the special section. There were
+sent convicts from all the Russias. They looked upon one another with
+reason as imprisoned for ever, for the term of their confinement had not
+been indicated. The law required them to receive double and treble
+tasks. They remained in prison until work of the most painful character
+had to be undertaken in Siberia.
+
+"You are only here for a fixed time," they said to the other convicts;
+"we, on the contrary, are here for all our life."
+
+I have heard that this section has since been abolished. At the same
+time, civil convicts are kept apart, in order that the military convicts
+may be organised by themselves into a homogeneous "disciplinary
+company." The administration, too, has naturally been changed;
+consequently what I describe are the customs and practices of another
+time, and of things which have since been abolished. Yes, it was a long
+time ago; it seems to me that it is all a dream. I remember entering the
+convict prison one December evening, as night was falling. The convicts
+were returning from work. The roll-call was about to be made. An under
+officer with large moustaches opened to me the gate of this strange
+house, where I was to remain so many years, to endure so many emotions,
+and of which I could not form even an approximate idea, if I had not
+gone through them. Thus, for example, could I ever have imagined the
+poignant and terrible suffering of never being alone even for one minute
+during ten years? Working under escort in the barracks together with two
+hundred "companions;" never alone, never!
+
+However, I was obliged to get accustomed to it. Among them there were
+murderers by imprudence, and murderers by profession, simple thieves,
+masters in the art of finding money in the pockets of the passers-by, or
+of wiping off no matter what from the table. It would have been
+difficult, however, to say why and how certain prisoners found
+themselves among the convicts. Each of them had his history, confused
+and heavy, painful as the morning after a debauch.
+
+The convicts, as a rule, spoke very little of their past life, which
+they did not like to think of. They endeavoured, even, to dismiss it
+from their memory.
+
+Amongst my companions of the chain I have known murderers who were so
+gay and so free from care, that one might have made a bet that their
+conscience never made them the least reproach. But there were also men
+of sombre countenance who remained almost always silent. It was very
+rarely any one told his history. This sort of thing was not the fashion.
+Let us say at once that it was not received. Sometimes, however, from
+time to time, for the sake of change, a prisoner used to tell his life
+to another prisoner, who would listen coldly to the narrative. No one,
+to tell the truth, could have said anything to astonish his neighbour.
+"We are not ignoramuses," they would sometimes say with singular pride.
+
+I remember one day a ruffian who had got drunk--it was sometimes
+possible for the convicts to get drink--relating how he had killed and
+cut up a child of five. He had first tempted the child with a plaything,
+and then taking it to a loft, had cut it up to pieces. The entire
+barrack, which, generally speaking, laughed at his jokes, uttered one
+unanimous cry. The ruffian was obliged to be silent. But if the convicts
+had interrupted him, it was not by any means because his recital had
+caused their indignation, but because it was not allowed to speak of
+such things.
+
+I must here observe that the convicts possessed a certain degree of
+instruction. Half of them, if not more, knew how to read and write.
+Where in Russia, in no matter what population, could two hundred and
+fifty men be found able to read and write? Later on I have heard people
+say, and conclude on the strength of these abuses, that education
+demoralises the people. This is a mistake. Education has nothing
+whatever to do with moral deterioration. It must be admitted,
+nevertheless, that it develops a resolute spirit among the people. But
+this is far from being a defect.
+
+Each section had a different costume. The uniform of one was a cloth
+vest, half brown and half gray, and trousers with one leg brown, the
+other gray. One day while we were at work, a little girl who sold scones
+of white bread came towards the convicts. She looked at them for a time
+and then burst into a laugh. "Oh, how ugly they are!" she cried; "they
+have not even enough gray cloth or brown cloth to make their clothes."
+Every convict wore a vest made of gray cloth, except the sleeves, which
+were brown. Their heads, too, were shaved in different styles. The
+crown was bared sometimes longitudinally, sometimes latitudinally, from
+the nape of the neck to the forehead, or from one ear to another.
+
+This strange family had a general likeness so pronounced that it could
+be recognised at a glance.
+
+Even the most striking personalities, those who dominated involuntarily
+the other convicts, could not help taking the general tone of the house.
+
+Of the convicts--with the exception of a few who enjoyed childish
+gaiety, and who by that alone drew upon themselves general contempt--all
+the convicts were morose, envious, frightfully vain, presumptuous,
+susceptible, and excessively ceremonious. To be astonished at nothing
+was in their eyes the first and indispensable quality. Accordingly,
+their first aim was to bear themselves with dignity. But often the most
+composed demeanour gave way with the rapidity of lightning. With the
+basest humility some, however, possessed genuine strength; these were
+naturally all sincere. But strangely enough, they were for the most part
+excessively and morbidly vain. Vanity was always their salient quality.
+
+The majority of the prisoners were depraved and perverted, so that
+calumnies and scandal rained amongst them like hail. Our life was a
+constant hell, a perpetual damnation; but no one would have dared to
+raise a voice against the internal regulations of the prison, or against
+established usages. Accordingly, willingly or unwillingly, they had to
+be submitted to. Certain indomitable characters yielded with difficulty,
+but they yielded all the same. Prisoners who when at liberty had gone
+beyond all measure, who, urged by their over-excited vanity, had
+committed frightful crimes unconsciously, as if in a delirium, and had
+been the terror of entire towns, were put down in a very short time by
+the system of our prison. The "new man," when he began to reconnoitre,
+soon found that he could astonish no one, and insensibly he submitted,
+took the general tone, and assumed a sort of personal dignity which
+almost every convict maintained, just as if the denomination of convict
+had been a title of honour. Not the least sign of shame or of
+repentance, but a kind of external submission which seemed to have been
+reasoned out as the line of conduct to be pursued. "We are lost men,"
+they said to themselves. "We were unable to live in liberty; we must now
+go to Green Street."[2]
+
+"You would not obey your father and mother; you will now obey thongs of
+leather." "The man who would not sow must now break stones."
+
+These things were said, and repeated in the way of morality, as
+sentences and proverbs, but without any one taking them seriously. They
+were but words in the air. There was not one man among them who admitted
+his iniquity. Let a stranger not a convict endeavour to reproach him
+with his crime, and the insults directed against him would be endless.
+And how refined are convicts in the matter of insults! They insult
+delicately, like artists; insult with the most delicate science. They
+endeavour not so much to offend by the expression as by the meaning, the
+spirit of an envenomed phrase. Their incessant quarrels developed
+greatly this special art.
+
+As they only worked under the threat of an immense stick, they were idle
+and depraved. Those who were not already corrupt when they arrived at
+the convict establishment, became perverted very soon. Brought together
+in spite of themselves, they were perfect strangers to one another. "The
+devil has worn out three pairs of sandals before he got us together,"
+they would say. Intrigues, calumnies, scandal of all kinds, envy, and
+hatred reigned above everything else. In this life of sloth, no ordinary
+spiteful tongue could make head against these murderers, with insults
+constantly in their mouths.
+
+As I said before, there were found among them men of open character,
+resolute, intrepid, accustomed to self-command. These were held
+involuntarily in esteem. Although they were very jealous of their
+reputation, they endeavoured to annoy no one, and never insulted one
+another without a motive. Their conduct was on all points full of
+dignity. They were rational, and almost always obedient, not by
+principle, or from any respect for duty, but as if in virtue of a mutual
+convention between themselves and the administration--a convention of
+which the advantages were plain enough.
+
+The officials, moreover, behaved prudently towards them. I remember that
+one prisoner of the resolute and intrepid class, known to possess the
+instincts of a wild beast, was summoned one day to be whipped. It was
+during the summer, no work was being done. The Adjutant, the direct and
+immediate chief of the convict prison, was in the orderly-room, by the
+side of the principal entrance, ready to assist at the punishment. This
+Major was a fatal being for the prisoners, whom he had brought to such a
+state that they trembled before him. Severe to the point of insanity,
+"he threw himself upon them," to use their expression. But it was above
+all that his look, as penetrating as that of a lynx, was feared. It was
+impossible to conceal anything from him. He saw, so to say, without
+looking. On entering the prison, he knew at once what was being done.
+Accordingly, the convicts, one and all, called him the man with the
+eight eyes. His system was bad, for it had the effect of irritating men
+who were already irascible. But for the Commandant, a well-bred and
+reasonable man, who moderated the savage onslaughts of the Major, the
+latter would have caused sad misfortunes by his bad administration. I do
+not understand how he managed to retire from the service safe and sound.
+It is true that he left after being called before a court-martial.
+
+The prisoner turned pale when he was called; generally speaking, he lay
+down courageously, and without uttering a word, to receive the terrible
+rods, after which he got up and shook himself. He bore the misfortune
+calmly, philosophically, it is true, though he was never punished
+carelessly, nor without all sorts of precautions. But this time he
+considered himself innocent. He turned pale, and as he walked quietly
+towards the escort of soldiers he managed to conceal in his sleeve a
+shoemaker's awl. The prisoners were severely forbidden to carry sharp
+instruments about them. Examinations were frequently, minutely, and
+unexpectedly made, and all infractions of the rule were severely
+punished. But as it is difficult to take away from the criminal what he
+is determined to conceal, and as, moreover, sharp instruments are
+necessarily used in the prison, they were never destroyed. If the
+official succeeded in taking them away from the convicts, the latter
+procured new ones very soon.
+
+On the occasion in question, all the convicts had now thrown themselves
+against the palisade, with palpitating hearts, to look through the
+crevices. It was known that this time Petroff would not allow himself to
+be flogged, that the end of the Major had come. But at the critical
+moment the latter got into his carriage, and went away, leaving the
+direction of the punishment to a subaltern. "God has saved him!" said
+the convicts. As for Petroff, he underwent his punishment quietly. Once
+the Major had gone, his anger fell. The prisoner is submissive and
+obedient to a certain point, but there is a limit which must not be
+crossed. Nothing is more curious than these strange outbursts of
+disobedience and rage. Often a man who has supported for many years the
+most cruel punishment, will revolt for a trifle, for nothing at all. He
+might pass for a madman; that, in fact, is what is said of him.
+
+I have already said that during many years I never remarked the least
+sign of repentance, not even the slightest uneasiness with regard to the
+crime committed; and that most of the convicts considered neither honour
+nor conscience, holding that they had a right to act as they thought
+fit. Certainly vanity, evil examples, deceitfulness, and false shame
+were responsible for much. On the other hand, who can claim to have
+sounded the depths of these hearts, given over to perdition, and to have
+found them closed to all light? It would seem all the same that during
+so many years I ought to have been able to notice some indication, even
+the most fugitive, of some regret, some moral suffering. I positively
+saw nothing of the kind. With ready-made opinions one cannot judge of
+crime. Its philosophy is a little more complicated than people think. It
+is acknowledged that neither convict prisons, nor the hulks, nor any
+system of hard labour ever cured a criminal. These forms of chastisement
+only punish him and reassure society against the offences he might
+commit. Confinement, regulation, and excessive work have no effect but
+to develop with these men profound hatred, a thirst for forbidden
+enjoyment, and frightful recalcitrations. On the other hand I am
+convinced that the celebrated cellular system gives results which are
+specious and deceitful. It deprives a criminal of his force, of his
+energy, enervates his soul by weakening and frightening it, and at last
+exhibits a dried up mummy as a model of repentance and amendment.
+
+The criminal who has revolted against society, hates it, and considers
+himself in the right; society was wrong, not he. Has he not, moreover,
+undergone his punishment? Accordingly he is absolved, acquitted in his
+own eyes. In spite of different opinions, every one will acknowledge
+that there are crimes which everywhere, always, under no matter what
+legislation, are beyond discussion crimes, and should be regarded as
+such as long as man is man. It is only at the convict prison that I have
+heard related, with a childish, unrestrained laugh, the strangest, most
+atrocious offences. I shall never forget a certain parricide, formerly a
+nobleman and a public functionary. He had given great grief to his
+father--a true prodigal son. The old man endeavoured in vain to restrain
+him by remonstrance on the fatal slope down which he was sliding. As he
+was loaded with debts, and his father was suspected of having, besides
+an estate, a sum of ready money, he killed him in order to enter more
+quickly into his inheritance. This crime was not discovered until a
+month afterwards. During all this time the murderer, who meanwhile had
+informed the police of his father's disappearance, continued his
+debauches. At last, during his absence, the police discovered the old
+man's corpse in a drain. The gray head was severed from the trunk, but
+replaced in its original position. The body was entirely dressed.
+Beneath, as if by derision, the assassin had placed a cushion.
+
+The young man confessed nothing. He was degraded, deprived of his
+nobiliary privileges, and condemned to twenty years' hard labour. As
+long as I knew him I always found him to be careless of his position. He
+was the most light-minded, inconsiderate man that I ever met, although
+he was far from being a fool. I never observed in him any great tendency
+to cruelty. The other convicts despised him, not on account of his
+crime, of which there was never any question, but because he was without
+dignity. He sometimes spoke of his father. One day for instance,
+boasting of the hereditary good health of his family, he said: "My
+father, for example, until his death was never ill."
+
+Animal insensibility carried to such a point is most remarkable--it is,
+indeed, phenomenal. There must have been in this case an organic defect
+in the man, some physical and moral monstrosity unknown hitherto to
+science, and not simply crime. I naturally did not believe in so
+atrocious a crime; but people of the same town as himself, who knew all
+the details of his history, related it to me. The facts were so clear
+that it would have been madness not to accept them. The prisoners once
+heard him cry out during his sleep: "Hold him! hold him! Cut his head
+off, his head, his head!"
+
+Nearly all the convicts dreamed aloud, or were delirious in their sleep.
+Insults, words of slang, knives, hatchets, seemed constantly present in
+their dreams. "We are crushed!" they would say; "we are without
+entrails; that is why we shriek in the night."
+
+Hard labour in our fortress was not an occupation, but an obligation.
+The prisoners accomplished their task, they worked the number of hours
+fixed by the law, and then returned to the prison. They hated their
+liberty. If the convict did not do some work on his own account
+voluntarily, it would be impossible for him to support his confinement.
+How could these persons, all strongly constituted, who had lived
+sumptuously, and desired so to live again, who had been brought
+together against their will, after society had cast them up--how could
+they live in a normal and natural manner? Man cannot exist without work,
+without legal, natural property. Depart from these conditions, and he
+becomes perverted and changed into a wild beast. Accordingly, every
+convict, through natural requirements and by the instinct of
+self-preservation, had a trade--an occupation of some kind.
+
+The long days of summer were taken up almost entirely by our hard
+labour. The night was so short that we had only just time to sleep. It
+was not the same in winter. According to the regulations, the prisoners
+had to be shut up in the barracks at nightfall. What was to be done
+during these long, sad evenings but work? Consequently each barrack,
+though locked and bolted, assumed the appearance of a large workshop.
+The work was not, it is true, strictly forbidden, but it was forbidden
+to have tools, without which work is evidently impossible. But we
+laboured in secret, and the administration seemed to shut its eyes. Many
+prisoners arrived without knowing how to make use of their ten fingers;
+but they learnt a trade from some of their companions, and became
+excellent workmen.
+
+We had among us cobblers, bootmakers, tailors, masons, locksmiths, and
+gilders. A Jew named Esau Boumstein was at the same time a jeweller and
+a usurer. Every one worked, and thus gained a few pence--for many orders
+came from the town. Money is a tangible resonant liberty, inestimable
+for a man entirely deprived of true liberty. If he feels some money in
+his pocket, he consoles himself a little, even though he cannot spend
+it--but one can always and everywhere spend money, the more so as
+forbidden fruit is doubly sweet. One can often buy spirits in the
+convict prison. Although pipes are severely forbidden, every one smokes.
+Money and tobacco save the convicts from the scurvy, as work saves them
+from crime--for without work they would mutually have destroyed one
+another like spiders shut up in a close bottle. Work and money were all
+the same forbidden. Often during the night severe examinations were
+made, during which everything that was not legally authorised was
+confiscated. However successfully the little hoards had been concealed,
+they were sometimes discovered. That was one of the reasons why they
+were not kept very long. They were exchanged as soon as possible for
+drink, which explains how it happened that spirits penetrated into the
+convict prison. The delinquent was not only deprived of his hoard, but
+was also cruelly flogged.
+
+A short time after each examination the convicts procured again the
+objects which had been confiscated, and everything went on as before.
+The administration knew it; and although the condition of the convicts
+was a good deal like that of the inhabitants of Vesuvius, they never
+murmured at the punishment inflicted for these peccadilloes. Those who
+had no manual skill did business somehow or other. The modes of buying
+and selling were original enough. Things changed hands which no one
+expected a convict would ever have thought of selling or buying, or even
+of regarding as of any value whatever. The least rag had its value, and
+might be turned to account. In consequence, however, of the poverty of
+the convicts, money acquired in their eyes a superior value to that
+really belonging to it.
+
+Long and painful tasks, sometimes of a very complicated kind, brought
+back a few kopecks. Several of the prisoners lent by the week, and did
+good business that way. The prisoner who was ruined and insolvent
+carried to the usurer the few things belonging to him and pledged them
+for some halfpence, which were lent to him at a fabulous rate of
+interest. If he did not redeem them at the fixed time the usurer sold
+them pitilessly by auction, and without the least delay.
+
+Usury flourished so well in our convict prison that money was lent even
+on things belonging to the Government: linen, boots, etc.--things that
+were wanted at every moment. When the lender accepted such pledges the
+affair took an unexpected turn. The proprietor went, immediately after
+he had received his money, and told the under officer--chief
+superintendent of the convict prison--that objects belonging to the
+State were being concealed, on which everything was taken away from the
+usurer without even the formality of a report to the superior
+administration. But never was there any quarrel--and that is very
+curious indeed--between the usurer and the owner. The first gave up in
+silence, with a morose air, the things demanded from him, as if he had
+been waiting for the request. Sometimes, perhaps, he confessed to
+himself that, in the place of the borrower, he would not have acted
+differently. Accordingly, if he was insulted after this restitution, it
+was less from hatred than simply as a matter of conscience.
+
+The convicts robbed one another without shame. Each prisoner had his
+little box fitted with a padlock, in which he kept the things entrusted
+to him by the administration. Although these boxes were authorised, that
+did not prevent them from being broken into. The reader can easily
+imagine what clever thieves were found among us. A prisoner who was
+sincerely devoted to me--I say it without boasting--stole my Bible from
+me, the only book allowed in the convict prison. He told me of it the
+same day, not from repentance, but because he pitied me when he saw me
+looking for it everywhere. We had among our companions of the chain
+several convicts called "innkeepers," who sold spirits, and became
+comparatively rich by doing so. I shall speak of this further on, for
+the liquor traffic deserves special study.
+
+A great number of prisoners had been deported for smuggling, which
+explains how it was that drink was brought secretly into the convict
+prison, under so severe a surveillance as ours was. In passing it may be
+remarked that smuggling is an offence apart. Would it be believed that
+money, the solid profit from the affair, possesses often only secondary
+importance for the smuggler? It is all the same an authentic fact. He
+works by vocation. In his style he is a poet. He risks all he possesses,
+exposes himself to terrible dangers, intrigues, invents, gets out of a
+scrape, and brings everything to a happy end by a sort of inspiration.
+This passion is as violent as that of play.
+
+I knew a prisoner of colossal stature who was the mildest, the most
+peaceable, and most manageable man it was possible to see. We often
+asked one another how he had been deported. He had such a calm, sociable
+character, that during the whole time that he passed at the convict
+prison, he never quarrelled with any one. Born in Western Russia, where
+he lived on the frontier, he had been sent to hard labour for smuggling.
+Naturally, then, he could not resist his desire to smuggle spirits into
+the prison. How many times was he not punished for it, and heaven knows
+how much he feared the rods. This dangerous trade brought him in but
+slender profits. It was the speculator who got rich at his expense. Each
+time he was punished he wept like an old woman, and swore by all that
+was holy that he would never be caught at such things again. He kept his
+vow for an entire month, but he ended by yielding once more to his
+passion. Thanks to these amateurs of smuggling, spirits were always to
+be had in the convict prison.
+
+Another source of income which, without enriching the prisoners, was
+constantly and beneficently turned to account, was alms-giving. The
+upper classes of our Russian society do not know to what an extent
+merchants, shopkeepers, and our people generally, commiserate the
+"unfortunate!"[3] Alms were always forthcoming, and consisted generally
+of little white loaves, sometimes of money, but very rarely. Without
+alms, the existence of the convicts, and above all that of the accused,
+who are badly fed, would be too painful. These alms are shared equally
+between all the prisoners. If the gifts are not sufficient, the little
+loaves are divided into halves, and sometimes into six pieces, so that
+each convict may have his share. I remember the first alms, a small
+piece of money, that I received. A short time after my arrival, one
+morning, as I was coming back from work with a soldier escort, I met a
+mother and her daughter, a child of ten, as beautiful as an angel. I had
+already seen them once before.
+
+The mother was the widow of a poor soldier, who, while still young, had
+been sentenced by a court-martial, and had died in the infirmary of the
+convict prison while I was there. They wept hot tears when they came to
+bid him good-bye. On seeing me the little girl blushed, and murmured a
+few words into her mother's ear, who stopped, and took from a basket a
+kopeck which she gave to the little girl. The little girl ran after me.
+
+"Here, poor man," she said, "take this in the name of Christ." I took
+the money which she slipped into my hand. The little girl returned
+joyfully to her mother. I preserved that kopeck a considerable time.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Goriantchikoff became himself a soldier in Siberia, when he had
+finished his term of imprisonment.
+
+[2] An allusion to the two rows of soldiers, armed with green rods,
+between which convicts condemned to corporal punishment had and still
+have to pass. But this punishment now exists only for convicts deprived
+of all their civil rights. This subject will be returned to further on.
+
+[3] Men condemned to hard labour, and exiles generally, are so called by
+the Russian peasantry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+During the first weeks, and naturally the early part of my imprisonment,
+made a deep impression on my imagination. The following years on the
+other hand are all mixed up together, and leave but a confused
+recollection. Certain epochs of this life are even effaced from my
+memory. I have kept one general impression of it, always the same;
+painful, monotonous, stifling. What I saw in experience during the first
+days of my imprisonment seems to me as if it had all taken place
+yesterday. Such was sure to be the case. I remember perfectly that in
+the first place this life astonished me by the very fact that it offered
+nothing particular, nothing extraordinary, or to express myself better,
+nothing unexpected. It was not until later on, when I had lived some
+time in the convict prison, that I understood all that was exceptional
+and unforeseen in such a life. I was astonished at the discovery. I will
+avow that this astonishment remained with me throughout my term of
+punishment. I could not decidedly reconcile myself to this existence.
+
+First of all, I experienced an invincible repugnance on arriving; but
+oddly enough the life seemed to me less painful than I had imagined on
+the journey.
+
+Indeed, prisoners, though embarrassed by their irons went to and fro in
+the prison freely enough. They insulted one another, sang, worked,
+smoked pipes, and drank spirits. There were not many drinkers all the
+same. There were also regular card parties during the night. The labour
+did not seem to me very trying; I fancied that it could not be the real
+"hard labour." I did not understand till long afterwards why this labour
+was really hard and excessive. It was less by reason of its difficulty,
+than because it was forced, imposed, obligatory; and it was only done
+through fear of the stick. The peasant works certainly harder than the
+convict, for, during the summer, he works night and day. But it is in
+his own interest that he fatigues himself. His aim is reasonable, so
+that he suffers less than the convict who performs hard labour from
+which he derives no profit. It once came into my head that if it were
+desired to reduce a man to nothing--to punish him atrociously, to crush
+him in such a manner that the most hardened murderer would tremble
+before such a punishment, and take fright beforehand--it would be
+necessary to give to his work a character of complete uselessness, even
+to absurdity.
+
+Hard labour, as it is now carried on, presents no interest to the
+convict; but it has its utility. The convict makes bricks, digs the
+earth, builds; and all his occupations have a meaning and an end.
+Sometimes, even the prisoner takes an interest in what he is doing. He
+then wishes to work more skilfully, more advantageously. But let him be
+constrained to pour water from one vessel into another, or to transport
+a quantity of earth from one place to another, in order to perform the
+contrary operation immediately afterwards, then I am persuaded that at
+the end of a few days the prisoner would strangle himself or commit a
+thousand crimes, punishable with death, rather than live in such an
+abject condition and endure such torments. It is evident that such
+punishment would be rather a torture, an atrocious vengeance, than a
+correction. It would be absurd, for it would have no natural end.
+
+I did not, however, arrive until the winter--in the month of
+December--and the labour was then unimportant in our fortress. I had no
+idea of the summer labour--five times as fatiguing. The prisoners,
+during the winter season, broke up on the Irtitch some old boats
+belonging to the Government, found occupation in the workshops, took
+away the snow blown by hurricanes against the buildings, or burned and
+pounded alabaster. As the day was very short, the work ceased at an
+early hour, and every one returned to the convict prison, where there
+was scarcely anything to do, except the supplementary work which the
+convicts did for themselves.
+
+Scarcely a third of the convicts worked seriously, the others idled
+their time and wandered about without aim in the barracks, scheming and
+insulting one another. Those who had a little money got drunk on
+spirits, or lost what they had saved at gambling. And all this from
+idleness, weariness, and want of something to do.
+
+I learned, moreover, to know one suffering which is perhaps the
+sharpest, the most painful that can be experienced in a house of
+detention apart from laws and liberty. I mean, "forced cohabitation."
+Cohabitation is more or less forced everywhere and always; but nowhere
+is it so horrible as in a prison. There are men there with whom no one
+would consent to live. I am certain that every convict, unconsciously
+perhaps, has suffered from this.
+
+The food of the prisoners seemed to me passable; some declared even that
+it was incomparably better than in any Russian prison. I cannot certify
+to this, for I was never in prison anywhere else. Many of us, besides,
+were allowed to procure whatever nourishment we wanted. As fresh meat
+cost only three kopecks a pound, those who always had money allowed
+themselves the luxury of eating it. The majority of the prisoners were
+contented with the regular ration.
+
+When they praised the diet of the convict prison, they were thinking
+only of the bread, which was distributed at the rate of so much per
+room, and not individually or by weight. This last condition would have
+frightened the convicts, for a third of them at least would have
+constantly suffered from hunger; while, with the system in vogue, every
+one was satisfied. Our bread was particularly nice, and was even
+renowned in the town. Its good quality was attributed to the excellent
+construction of the prison ovens. As for our cabbage-soup, it was cooked
+and thickened with flour. It had not an appetising appearance. On
+working days it was clear and thin; but what particularly disgusted me
+was the way it was served. The prisoners, however, paid no attention to
+that.
+
+During the three days that followed my arrival, I did not go to work.
+Some respite was always given to prisoners just arrived, in order to
+allow them to recover from their fatigue. The second day I had to go out
+of the convict prison in order to be ironed. My chain was not of the
+regulation pattern; it was composed of rings, which gave forth a clear
+sound, so I heard other convicts say. I had to wear them externally over
+my clothes, whereas my companions had chains formed, not of rings, but
+of four links, as thick as the finger, and fastened together by three
+links which were worn beneath the trousers. To the central ring was
+fastened a strip of leather, tied in its turn to a girdle fastened over
+the shirt.
+
+I can see again the first morning that I passed in the convict prison.
+The drum sounded in the orderly room, near the principal entrance. Ten
+minutes afterwards the under officer opened the barracks. The convicts
+woke up one after another and rose trembling with cold from their plank
+bedsteads, by the dull light of a tallow candle. Nearly all of them were
+morose; they yawned and stretched themselves. Their foreheads, marked by
+the iron, were contracted. Some made the sign of the Cross; others began
+to talk nonsense. The cold air from outside rushed in as soon as the
+door was opened. Then the prisoners hurried round the pails full of
+water, one after another, and took water in their mouths, and, letting
+it out into their hands, washed their faces. Those pails had been
+brought in the night before by a prisoner specially appointed, according
+to the rules, to clean the barracks.
+
+The convicts chose him themselves. He did not work with the others, for
+it was his business to examine the camp bedsteads and the floors, to
+fetch and carry water. This water served in the morning for the
+prisoners' ablutions, and the rest during the day for ordinary drinking.
+That very morning there were disputes on the subject of one of the
+pitchers.
+
+"What are you doing there with your marked forehead?" grumbled one of
+the prisoners, tall, dry, and sallow.
+
+He attracted attention by the strange protuberances with which his skull
+was covered. He pushed against another convict round and small, with a
+lively rubicund countenance.
+
+"Just wait."
+
+"What are you crying out about? You know that a fine must be paid when
+the others are kept waiting. Off with you. What a monument, my
+brethren!"
+
+"A little calf," he went on muttering. "See, the white bread of the
+prison has fattened him."
+
+"For what do you take yourself? A fine bird, indeed."
+
+"You are about right."
+
+"What bird do you mean?"
+
+"You don't require to be told."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Find out."
+
+They devoured one another with their eyes. The little man, waiting for a
+reply, with clenched fists, was apparently ready to fight. I thought
+that an encounter would take place. It was all quite new to me;
+accordingly I watched the scene with curiosity. Later on I learnt that
+such quarrels were very innocent, that they served for entertainment.
+Like an amusing comedy, it scarcely ever ended in blows. This
+characteristic plainly informed me of the manners of the prisoners.
+
+The tall prisoner remained calm and majestic. He felt that some answer
+was expected from him, if he was not to be dishonoured, covered with
+ridicule. It was necessary for him to show that he was a wonderful bird,
+a personage. Accordingly, he cast a side look on his adversary,
+endeavouring, with inexpressible contempt, to irritate him by looking at
+him over his shoulders, up and down, as he would have done with an
+insect. At last the little fat man was so irritated that he would have
+thrown himself upon his adversary had not his companions surrounded the
+combatants to prevent a serious quarrel from taking place.
+
+"Fight with your fists, not with your tongues," cried a spectator from a
+corner of the room.
+
+"No, hold them," answered another, "they are going to fight. We are fine
+fellows, one against seven is our style."
+
+Fine fighting men! One was here for having sneaked a pound of bread, the
+other is a pot-stealer; he was whipped by the executioner for stealing a
+pot of curdled milk from an old woman.
+
+"Enough, keep quiet," cried a retired soldier, whose business it was to
+keep order in the barrack, and who slept in a corner of the room on a
+bedstead of his own.
+
+"Water, my children, water for Nevalid Petrovitch, water for our little
+brother, who has just woke up."
+
+"Your brother! Am I your brother? Did we ever drink a roublesworth of
+spirits together?" muttered the old soldier as he passed his arms
+through the sleeves of his great-coat.
+
+The roll was about to be called, for it was already late. The prisoners
+were hurrying towards the kitchen. They had to put on their pelisses,
+and were to receive in their bi-coloured caps the bread which one of the
+cooks--one of the bakers, that is to say--was distributing among them.
+These cooks, like those who did the household work, were chosen by the
+prisoners themselves. There were two for the kitchen, making four in all
+for the convict prison. They had at their disposal the only
+kitchen-knife authorised in the prison, which was used for cutting up
+the bread and meat. The prisoners arranged themselves in groups around
+the tables as best they could in caps and pelisses, with leather girdles
+round their waists, all ready to begin work. Some of the convicts had
+kvas before them, in which they steeped pieces of bread. The noise was
+insupportable. Many of the convicts, however, were talking together in
+corners with a steady, tranquil air.
+
+"Good-morning and good appetite, Father Antonitch," said a young
+prisoner, sitting down by the side of an old man, who had lost his
+teeth.
+
+"If you are not joking, well, good-morning," said the latter, without
+raising his eyes, and endeavouring to masticate a piece of bread with
+his toothless gums.
+
+"I declare I fancied you were dead, Antonitch."
+
+"Die first, I will follow you."
+
+I sat down beside them. On my right two convicts were conversing with an
+attempt at dignity.
+
+"I am not likely to be robbed," said one of them. "I am more afraid of
+stealing myself."
+
+"It would not be a good idea to rob me. The devil! I should pay the man
+out."
+
+"But what would you do, you are only a convict? We have no other name.
+You will see that she will rob you, the wretch, without even saying,
+'Thank you.' The money I gave her was wasted. Just fancy, she was here a
+few days ago! Where were we to go? Shall I ask permission to go into the
+house of Theodore, the executioner? He has still his house in the
+suburb, the one he bought from that Solomon, you know, that scurvy Jew
+who hung himself not long since."
+
+"Yes, I know him, the one who sold liquor here three years ago, and who
+was called Grichka--the secret-drinking shop."
+
+"I know."
+
+"_All_ brag. You don't know. In the first place it is another drinking
+shop."
+
+"What do you mean, another? You don't know what you are talking about. I
+will bring you as many witnesses as you like."
+
+"Oh, you will bring them, will you? Who are you? Do you know to whom you
+are speaking?"
+
+"Yes, indeed."
+
+"I have often thrashed you, though I don't boast of it. Do not give
+yourself airs then."
+
+"You have thrashed me? The man who will thrash me is not yet born; and
+the man who did thrash me is six feet beneath the ground."
+
+"Plague-stricken rascal of Bender?"
+
+"May the Siberian leprosy devour you with ulcers!"
+
+"May a chopper cleave your dog of a head."
+
+Insults were falling about like rain.
+
+"Come, now, they are going to fight. When men have not been able to
+conduct themselves properly they should keep silent. They are too glad
+to come and eat the Government bread, the rascals!"
+
+They were soon separated. Let them fight with the tongue as much as they
+wish. That is permitted. It is a diversion at the service of every one;
+but no blows. It is, indeed, only in extraordinary cases that blows were
+exchanged. If a fight took place, information was given to the Major,
+who ordered an inquiry or directed one himself; and then woe to the
+convicts. Accordingly they set their faces against anything like a
+serious quarrel; besides, they insulted one another chiefly to pass the
+time, as an oratorical exercise. They get excited; the quarrel takes a
+furious, ferocious character; they seem about to slaughter one another.
+Nothing of the kind takes place. As soon as their anger has reached a
+certain pitch they separate.
+
+That astonished me much, and if I relate some of the conversations
+between the convicts, I do so with a purpose. Could I have imagined that
+people could have insulted one another for pleasure, that they could
+find enjoyment in it?
+
+We must not forget the gratification of vanity. A dialectician, who
+knows how to insult artistically, is respected. A little more, and he
+would be applauded like an actor.
+
+Already, the night before, I noticed some glances in my direction. On
+the other hand, several convicts hung around me as if they had suspected
+that I had brought money with me. They endeavoured to get into my good
+graces by teaching me how to carry my irons without being incommoded.
+They also gave me--of course in return for money--a box with a lock, in
+order to keep safe the things which had been entrusted to me by the
+administration, and the few shirts that I had been allowed to bring with
+me to the convict prison. Not later than next morning these same
+prisoners stole my box, and drank the money which they had taken out of
+it.
+
+One of them became afterwards a great friend of mine, though he robbed
+me whenever an opportunity offered itself. He was, all the same, vexed
+at what he had done. He committed these thefts almost unconsciously, as
+if in the way of a duty. Consequently I bore him no grudge.
+
+These convicts let me know that one could have tea, and that I should do
+well to get myself a teapot. They found me one, which I hired for a
+certain time. They also recommended me a cook, who, for thirty kopecks a
+month, would arrange the dishes I might desire, if it was my intention
+to buy provisions and take my meals apart. Of course they borrowed money
+from me. The day of my arrival they asked me for some at three different
+times.
+
+The noblemen degraded from their position, here incarcerated in the
+convict prison, were badly looked upon by their fellow prisoners;
+although they had lost all their rights like the other convicts, they
+were not looked upon as comrades.
+
+In this instinctive repugnance there was a sort of reason. To them we
+were always gentlemen, although they often laughed at our fall.
+
+"Ah! it's all over now. Mossieu's carriage formerly crushed the
+passers-by at Moscow. Now Mossieu picks hemp!"
+
+They knew our sufferings, though we hid them as much as possible. It
+was, above all, when we were all working together that we had most to
+endure, for our strength was not so great as theirs, and we were really
+not of much assistance to them. Nothing is more difficult than to gain
+the confidence of the common people; above all, such people as these!
+
+There were only a few of us who were of noble birth in the whole prison.
+First, there were five Poles--of whom further on I shall speak in
+detail--they were detested by the convicts more, perhaps, than the
+Russian nobles. The Poles--I speak only of the political
+convicts--always behaved to them with a constrained and offensive
+politeness, scarcely ever speaking to them, and making no endeavour to
+conceal the disgust which they experienced in such company. The convicts
+understood all this, and paid them back in their own coin.
+
+Two years passed before I could gain the good-will of my companions; but
+the greater part of them were attached to me, and declared that I was a
+good fellow.
+
+There were altogether--counting myself--five Russian nobles in the
+convict prison. I had heard of one of them even before my arrival as a
+vile and base creature, horribly corrupt, doing the work of spy and
+informer. Accordingly, from the very first day I refused to enter into
+relations with this man. The second was the parricide of whom I have
+spoken in these memoirs. The third was Akimitch. I have scarcely ever
+seen such an original; and I have still a lively recollection of him.
+
+Tall, thin, weak-minded, and terribly ignorant, he was as argumentative
+and as particular about details as a German. The convicts laughed at
+him; but they feared him, on account of his susceptible, excitable, and
+quarrelsome disposition. As soon as he arrived, he was on a footing of
+perfect equality with them. He insulted them and beat them. Phenomenally
+just, it was sufficient for him that there was injustice, to interfere
+in an affair which did not concern him. He was, moreover, exceedingly
+simple. When he quarrelled with the convicts, he reproached them with
+being thieves, and exhorted them in all sincerity to steal no more. He
+had served as a sub-lieutenant in the Caucasus. I made friends with him
+the first day, and he related to me his "affair." He had begun as a
+cadet in a Line regiment. After waiting some time to be appointed to his
+commission as sub-lieutenant, he at last received it, and was sent into
+the mountains to command a small fort. A small tributary prince in the
+neighbourhood set fire to the fort, and made a night attack, which had
+no success.
+
+Akimitch was very cunning, and pretended not to know that he was the
+author of the attack, which he attributed to some insurgents wandering
+about the mountains. After a month he invited the prince, in a friendly
+way, to come and see him. The prince arrived on horseback, without
+suspecting anything. Akimitch drew up his garrison in line of battle,
+and exposed to the soldiers the treason and villainy of his visitor. He
+reproached him with his conduct; proved to him that to set fire to the
+fort was a shameful crime; explained to him minutely the duties of a
+tributary prince; and then, by way of peroration to his harangue, had
+him shot. He at once informed his superior officers of this execution,
+with all the details necessary. Thereupon Akimitch was brought to trial.
+He appeared before a court-martial, and was condemned to death; but his
+sentence was commuted, and he was sent to Siberia as a convict of the
+second class--condemned, that is to say, to twelve years' hard labour
+and imprisonment in a fortress. He admitted willingly that he had acted
+illegally, and that the prince ought to have been tried in a civil
+court, and not by a court-martial. Nevertheless, he could not understand
+that his action was a crime.
+
+"He had burned my fort; what was I to do? Was I to thank him for it?" he
+answered to my objections.
+
+Although the convicts laughed at Akimitch, and pretended that he was a
+little mad, they esteemed him all the same by reason of his cleverness
+and his precision.
+
+He knew all possible trades, and could do whatever you wished. He was
+cobbler, bootmaker, painter, carver, gilder, and locksmith. He had
+acquired these talents at the convict prison, for it was sufficient for
+him to see an object, in order to imitate it. He sold in the town, or
+caused to be sold, baskets, lanterns, and toys. Thanks to his work, he
+had always some money, which he employed in buying shirts, pillows, and
+so on. He had himself made a mattress, and as he slept in the same room
+as myself he was very useful to me at the beginning of my imprisonment.
+Before leaving prison to go to work, the convicts were drawn up in two
+ranks before the orderly-room, surrounded by an escort of soldiers with
+loaded muskets. An officer of Engineers then arrived, with the
+superintendent of the works and a few soldiers, who watched the
+operations. The superintendent counted the convicts, and sent them in
+bands to the places where they were to be occupied.
+
+I went with some other prisoners to the workshop of the Engineers--a low
+brick house built in the midst of a large court-yard full of materials.
+There was a forge there, and carpenters', locksmiths', and painters'
+workshops. Akimitch was assigned to the last. He boiled the oil for the
+varnish, mixed the colours, and painted tables and other pieces of
+furniture in imitation walnut.
+
+While I was waiting to have additional irons put on, I communicated to
+him my first impressions.
+
+"Yes," he said, "they do not like nobles, above all those who have been
+condemned for political offences, and they take a pleasure in wounding
+their feelings. Is it not intelligible? We do not belong to them, we do
+not suit them. They have all been serfs or soldiers. Tell me what
+sympathy can they have for us. The life here is hard, but it is nothing
+in comparison with that of the disciplinary companies in Russia. There
+it is hell. The men who have been in them praise our convict prison. It
+is paradise compared to their purgatory. Not that the work is harder. It
+is said that with the convicts of the first class the administration--it
+is not exclusively military as it is here--acts quite differently from
+what it does towards us. They have their little houses there I have been
+told, for I have not seen for myself. They wear no uniform, their heads
+are not shaved, though, in my opinion, uniforms and shaved heads are not
+bad things; it is neater, and also it is more agreeable to the eye, only
+these men do not like it. Oh, what a Babel this place is! Soldiers,
+Circassians, old believers, peasants who have left their wives and
+families, Jews, Gypsies, people come from Heaven knows where, and all
+this variety of men are to live quietly together side by side, eat from
+the same dish, and sleep on the same planks. Not a moment's liberty, no
+enjoyment except in secret; they must hide their money in their boots;
+and then always the convict prison at every moment--perpetually convict
+prison! Involuntarily wild ideas come to one."
+
+As I already knew all this, I was above all anxious to question Akimitch
+in regard to our Major. He concealed nothing, and the impression which
+his story left upon me was far from being an agreeable one.
+
+I had to live for two years under the authority of this officer. All
+that Akimitch had told me about him was strictly true. He was a
+spiteful, ill-regulated man, terrible above all things, because he
+possessed almost absolute power over two hundred human beings. He looked
+upon the prisoners as his personal enemies--first, and very serious
+fault. His rare capacities, and, perhaps, even his good qualities, were
+perverted by his intemperance and his spitefulness. He sometimes fell
+like a bombshell into the barracks in the middle of the night. If he
+noticed a prisoner asleep on his back or his left side, he awoke him and
+said to him: "You must sleep as I ordered!" The convicts detested him
+and feared him like the plague. His repulsive, crimson countenance made
+every one tremble. We all knew that the Major was entirely in the hands
+of his servant Fedka, and that he had nearly gone mad when his dog
+"Treasure" fell ill. He preferred this dog to every other living
+creature.
+
+When Fedka told him that a convict, who had picked up some veterinary
+knowledge, made wonderful cures, he sent for him directly and said to
+him, "I entrust my dog to your care. If you cure 'Treasure' I will
+reward you royally." The man, a very intelligent Siberian peasant, was
+indeed a good veterinary surgeon, but he was above all a cunning
+peasant. He used to tell his comrades long after the affair had taken
+place the story of his visit to the Major.
+
+"I looked at 'Treasure,' he was lying down on a sofa with his head on a
+white cushion. I saw at once that he had inflammation, and that he
+wanted bleeding. I think I could have cured him, but I said to myself,
+'What will happen if the dog dies? It will be my fault.' 'No, your
+noble highness,' I said to him, 'you have called me too late. If I had
+seen your dog yesterday or the day before, he would now be restored to
+health; but at the present moment I can do nothing. He will die.' And
+'Treasure' died."
+
+I was told one day that a convict had tried to kill the Major. This
+prisoner had for several years been noticed for his submissive attitude
+and also his silence. He was regarded even as a madman. As he possessed
+some instruction he passed his nights reading the Bible. When everybody
+was asleep he rose, climbed up on to the stove, lit a church taper,
+opened his Gospel and began to read. He did this for an entire year.
+
+One fine day he left the ranks and declared that he would not go to
+work. He was reported to the Major, who flew into a rage, and hurried to
+the barracks. The convict rushed forward and hurled at him a brick,
+which he had procured beforehand; but it missed him. The prisoner was
+seized, tried, and whipped--it was a matter of a few moments--carried to
+the hospital, and died there three days afterwards. He declared during
+his last moments that he hated no one; but that he had wished to suffer.
+He belonged to no sect of fanatics. Afterwards, when people spoke of him
+in the barracks, it was always with respect.
+
+At last they put new irons on me. While they were being soldered a
+number of young women, selling little white loaves, came into the forge
+one after another. They were, for the most part, quite little girls who
+came to sell the loaves that their mothers had baked. As they got older
+they still continued to hang about us, but they no longer brought bread.
+There were always some of them about. There were also married women.
+Each roll cost two kopecks. Nearly all the prisoners used to have them.
+I noticed a prisoner who worked as a carpenter. He was already getting
+gray, but he had a ruddy, smiling complexion. He was joking with the
+vendors of rolls. Before they arrived he had tied a red handkerchief
+round his neck. A fat woman, much marked with the small-pox, put down
+her basket on the carpenter's table. They began to talk.
+
+"Why did you not come yesterday?" said the convict, with a
+self-satisfied smile.
+
+"I did come; but you had gone," replied the woman boldly.
+
+"Yes; they made us go away, otherwise we should have met. The day before
+yesterday they all came to see me."
+
+"Who came?"
+
+"Why, Mariashka, Khavroshka, Tchekunda, Dougrochva" (the woman of four
+kopecks).
+
+"What," I said to Akimitch, "is it possible that----?"
+
+"Yes; it happens sometimes," he replied, lowering his eyes, for he was a
+very proper man.
+
+Yes; it happened sometimes, but rarely, and with unheard of
+difficulties. The convicts preferred to spend their money in drink. It
+was very difficult to meet these women. It was necessary to come to an
+agreement about the place, and the time; to arrange a meeting, to find
+solitude, and, what was most difficult of all, to avoid the
+escorts--almost an impossibility--and to spend relatively prodigious
+sums. I have sometimes, however, witnessed love scenes. One day three of
+us were heating a brick-kiln on the banks of the Irtitch. The soldiers
+of the escort were good-natured fellows. Two "blowers" (they were
+so-called) soon appeared.
+
+"Where were you staying so long?" said a prisoner to them, who had
+evidently been expecting them. "Was it at the Zvierkoffs that you were
+detained?"
+
+"At the Zvierkoffs? It will be fine weather, and the fowls will have
+teeth, when I go to see them," replied one of the women.
+
+She was the dirtiest woman imaginable. She was called Tchekunda, and had
+arrived in company with her friend, the "four kopecks," who was beneath
+all description.
+
+"It's a long time since we have seen anything of you," says the gallant
+to her of the four kopecks; "you seem to have grown thinner."
+
+"Perhaps; formerly I was good-looking and plump, whereas now one might
+fancy I had swallowed eels."
+
+"And you still run after the soldiers, is that so?"
+
+"All calumny on the part of wicked people; and after all, if I was to be
+flogged to death for it, I like soldiers."
+
+"Never mind your soldiers, we're the people to love; we have money."
+
+Imagine this gallant with his shaved crown, with fetters on his ankles,
+dressed in a coat of two colours, and watched by an escort.
+
+As I was now returning to the prison, my irons had been put on. I wished
+Akimitch good-bye and went away, escorted by a soldier. Those who do
+task work return first, and, when I got back to the barracks, a good
+number of convicts were already there.
+
+As the kitchen could not have held the whole barrack-full at once, we
+did not all dine together. Those who came in first were first served. I
+tasted the cabbage soup, but, not being used to it, could not eat it,
+and I prepared myself some tea. I sat down at one end of the table, with
+a convict of noble birth like myself. The prisoners were going in and
+out. There was no want of room, for there were not many of them. Five of
+them sat down apart from the large table. The cook gave them each two
+ladles full of soup, and brought them a plate of fried fish. These men
+were having a holiday. They looked at us in a friendly manner. One of
+the Poles came in and took his seat by our side.
+
+"I was not with you, but I know that you are having a feast," exclaimed
+a tall convict who now came in.
+
+He was a man of about fifty years, thin and muscular. His face indicated
+cunning, and, at the same time, liveliness. His lower lip, fleshy and
+pendant, gave him a soft expression.
+
+"Well, have you slept well? Why don't you say how do you do? Well, now
+my friends of Kursk," he said, sitting down by the side of the feasters,
+"good appetite? Here's a new guest for you."
+
+"We are not from the province of Kursk."
+
+"Then my friends from Tambof, let me say?"
+
+"We are not from Tambof either. You have nothing to claim from us; if
+you want to enjoy yourself go to some rich peasant."
+
+"I have Maria Ikotishna [from "ikot," hiccough] in my belly, otherwise I
+should die of hunger. But where is your peasant to be found?"
+
+"Good heavens! we mean Gazin; go to him."
+
+"Gazin is on the drink to-day, he's devouring his capital."
+
+"He has at least twenty roubles," says another convict. "It is
+profitable to keep a drinking shop."
+
+"You won't have me? Then I must eat the Government food."
+
+"Will you have some tea? If so, ask these noblemen for some."
+
+"Where do you see any noblemen? They're noblemen no longer. They're not
+a bit better than us," said in a sombre voice a convict who was seated
+in the corner, who hitherto had not risked a word.
+
+"I should like a cup of tea, but I am ashamed to ask for it. I have
+self-respect," said the convict with the heavy lip, looking at me with a
+good-humoured air.
+
+"I will give you some if you like," I said. "Will you have some?"
+
+"What do you mean--will I have some? Who would not have some?" he said,
+coming towards the table.
+
+"Only think! When he was free he ate nothing but cabbage soup and black
+bread, but now he is in prison he must have tea like a perfect
+gentleman," continued the convict with the sombre air.
+
+"Does no one here drink tea?" I asked him; but he did not think me
+worthy of a reply.
+
+"White rolls, white rolls; who'll buy?"
+
+A young prisoner was carrying in a net a load of calachi (scones), which
+he proposed to sell in the prison. For every ten that he sold, the baker
+gave him one for his trouble. It was precisely on this tenth scone that
+he counted for his dinner.
+
+"White rolls, white rolls," he cried, as he entered the kitchen, "white
+Moscow rolls, all hot. I would eat the whole of them, but I want money,
+lots of money. Come, lads, there is only one left for any of you who has
+had a mother."
+
+This appeal to filial love made every one laugh, and several of his
+white rolls were purchased.
+
+"Well," he said, "Gazin has drunk in such a style, it is quite a sin. He
+has chosen a nice moment too. If the man with the eight eyes should
+arrive--we shall hide him."
+
+"Is he very drunk?"
+
+"Yes, and ill-tempered too--unmanageable."
+
+"There will be some fighting, then?"
+
+"Whom are they speaking of?" I said to the Pole, my neighbour.
+
+"Of Gazin. He is a prisoner who sells spirits. When he has gained a
+little money by his trade, he drinks it to the last kopeck; a cruel,
+malicious animal when he has been drinking. When sober, he is quiet
+enough, but when he is in drink he shows himself in his true character.
+He attacks people with the knife until it is taken from him."
+
+"How do they manage that?"
+
+"Ten men throw themselves upon him and beat him like a sack without
+mercy until he loses consciousness. When he is half dead with the
+beating, they lay him down on his plank bedstead, and cover him over
+with his pelisse."
+
+"But they might kill him."
+
+"Any one else would die of it, but not he. He is excessively robust; he
+is the strongest of all the convicts. His constitution is so solid, that
+the day after one of these punishments he gets up perfectly sound."
+
+"Tell me, please," I continued, speaking to the Pole, "why these people
+keep their food to themselves, and at the same time seem to envy me my
+tea."
+
+"Your tea has nothing to do with it. They are envious of you. Are you
+not a gentleman? You in no way resemble them. They would be glad to pick
+a quarrel with you in order to humiliate you. You don't know what
+annoyances you will have to undergo. It is martyrdom for men like us to
+be here. Our life is doubly painful, and great strength of character can
+alone accustom one to it. You will be vexed and tormented in all sorts
+of ways on account of your food and your tea. Although the number of men
+who buy their own food and drink tea daily is large enough, they have a
+right to do so, you have not."
+
+He got up and left the table a few minutes later. His predictions were
+already being fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_).
+
+
+Hardly had M. --cki--the Pole to whom I had been speaking--gone out when
+Gazin, completely drunk, threw himself all in a heap into the kitchen.
+
+To see a convict drunk in the middle of the day, when every one was
+about to be sent out to work--given the well-known severity of the
+Major, who at any moment might come to the barracks, the watchfulness of
+the under officer who never left the prison, the presence of the old
+soldiers and the sentinels--all this quite upset the ideas I had formed
+of our prison; and a long time passed before I was able to understand
+and explain to myself the effects, which in the first instance were
+enigmatic indeed.
+
+I have already said that all the convicts had a private occupation, and
+that this occupation was for them a natural and imperious one. They are
+passionately fond of money, and think more of it than of anything
+else--almost as much as of liberty. The convict is half-consoled if he
+can ring a few kopecks in his pocket. On the contrary, he is sad,
+restless, and despondent if he has no money. He is ready then to commit
+no matter what crime in order to get some. Nevertheless, in spite of the
+importance it possesses for the convicts, money does not remain long in
+their pockets. It is difficult to keep it. Sometimes it is confiscated,
+sometimes stolen. When the Major, in a sudden perquisition, discovered a
+small sum amassed with great trouble, he confiscated it. It may be that
+he laid it out in improving the food of the prisoners, for all the money
+taken from them went into his hands. But generally speaking it was
+stolen. A means of preserving it was, however, discovered. An old man
+from Starodoub, one of the "old believers," took upon himself to conceal
+the convicts' savings.
+
+I cannot resist my desire to say some words about this man, although it
+takes me away from my story. He was about sixty years old, thin, and
+getting very gray. He excited my curiosity the first time I saw him, for
+he was not like any of the others; his look was so tranquil and mild,
+and I always saw with pleasure his clear and limpid eyes, surrounded by
+a number of little wrinkles. I often talked with him, and rarely have I
+met with so kind, so benevolent a being. He had been consigned to hard
+labour for a serious crime. A certain number of the "old believers" at
+Starodoub had been converted to the orthodox religion. The Government
+had done everything to encourage them, and, at the same time, to convert
+the other dissenters. The old man and some other fanatics had resolved
+to "defend the faith." When the orthodox church was being constructed in
+their town they set fire to the building. This offence had brought upon
+its author the sentence of deportation. This well-to-do shopkeeper--he
+was in trade--had left a wife and family whom he loved, and had gone off
+courageously into exile, believing in his blindness that he was
+"suffering for the faith."
+
+When one had lived some time by the side of this kind old man, one could
+not help asking the question, how could he have rebelled? I spoke to him
+several times about his faith. He gave up none of his convictions, but
+in his answers I never noticed the slightest hatred; and yet he had
+destroyed a church, and was far from denying it. In his view, the
+offence he had committed and his martyrdom were things to be proud of.
+
+There were other "old believers" among the convicts--Siberians for the
+most part--men of well-developed intelligence, and as cunning as all
+peasants. Dialecticians in their way, they followed blindly their law,
+and delighted in discussing it. But they had great faults; they were
+haughty, proud, and very intolerant. The old man in no way resembled
+them. With full more belief in religious exposition than others of the
+same faith, he avoided all controversy. As he was of a gay and expansive
+disposition he often laughed--not with the coarse cynical laugh of the
+other convicts, but with a laugh of clearness and simplicity, in which
+there was something of the child, and which harmonised perfectly with
+his gray head. I may perhaps be in error, but it seems to me that a man
+may be known by his laugh alone. If the laugh of a man you are
+acquainted with inspires you with sympathy, be assured that he is an
+honest man.
+
+The old man had acquired the respect of all the prisoners without
+exception; but he was not proud of it. The convicts called him
+grandfather, and he took no offence. I then understood what an influence
+he must have exercised on his co-religionists.
+
+In spite of the firmness with which he supported his prison life, one
+felt that he was tormented by a profound, incurable melancholy. I slept
+in the same barrack with him. One night, towards three o'clock in the
+morning, I woke up; I heard a slow, stifling sob. The old man was
+sitting upon the stove--the same place where the convict who had wished
+to kill the Major was in the habit of praying--and was reading from his
+manuscript prayer-book. As he wept I heard him repeating: "Lord, do not
+forsake me. Master, strengthen me. My poor little children, my dear
+little children, we shall never see one another again." I cannot say how
+much this moved me.
+
+We used to give our money then to this old man. Heaven knows how the
+idea got abroad in our barrack that he could not be robbed. It was well
+known that he hid somewhere the savings deposited with him, but no one
+had been able to discover his secret. He revealed it to us; to the
+Poles, and myself. One of the stakes of the palisade bore a branch which
+apparently belonged to it, but it could be taken away, and then replaced
+in the stake. When the branch was removed a hole could be seen. This was
+the hiding-place in question.
+
+I now resume the thread of my narrative. Why does not the convict save
+up his money? Not only is it difficult for him to keep it, but the
+prison life, moreover, is so sad that the convict by his very nature
+thirsts for freedom of action. By his position in society he is so
+irregular a being that the idea of swallowing up his capital in orgies,
+of intoxicating himself with revelry, seems to him quite natural if only
+he can procure himself one moment's forgetfulness. It was strange to see
+certain individuals bent over their labour only with the object of
+spending in one day all their gains, even to the last kopeck. Then they
+would go to work again until a new debauch, looked forward to months
+beforehand. Certain convicts were fond of new clothes, more or less
+singular in style, such as fancy trousers and waistcoats; but it was
+above all for the coloured shirts that the convicts had a pronounced
+taste; also for belts with metal clasps.
+
+On holidays the dandies of the prison put on their Sunday best. They
+were worth seeing as they strutted about their part of the barracks. The
+pleasure of feeling themselves well dressed amounted with them to
+childishness; indeed, in many things convicts are only children. Their
+fine clothes disappeared very soon, often the evening of the very day on
+which they had been bought. Their owners pledged them or sold them again
+for a trifle.
+
+The feasts were generally held at fixed times. They coincided with
+religious festivals, or with the name's day of the drunken convict. On
+getting up in the morning he would place a wax taper before the holy
+image, then he said his prayer, dressed, and ordered his dinner. He had
+bought beforehand meat, fish, and little patties; then he gorged like an
+ox, almost always alone. It was very rare to see a convict invite
+another convict to share his repast. At dinner the vodka was produced.
+The convict would suck it up like the sole of a boot, and then walk
+through the barracks swaggering and tottering. It was his desire to show
+all his companions that he was drunk, that he was carrying on, and thus
+obtain their particular esteem.
+
+The Russian people feel always a certain sympathy for a drunken man;
+among us it amounted really to esteem. In the convict prison
+intoxication was a sort of aristocratic distinction.
+
+As soon as he felt himself in spirits the convict ordered a musician. We
+had among us a little fellow--a deserter from the army--very ugly, but
+who was the happy possessor of a violin on which he could play. As he
+had no trade he was always ready to follow the festive convict from
+barrack to barrack grinding him out dance tunes with all his strength.
+His countenance often expressed the fatigue and disgust which his
+music--always the same--caused him; but when the prisoner called out to
+him, "Go on playing, are you not paid for it?" he attacked his violin
+more violently than ever. These drunkards felt sure that they would be
+taken care of, and in case of the Major arriving would be concealed from
+his watchful eyes. This service we rendered in the most disinterested
+spirit. On their side the under officer, and the old soldiers who
+remained in the prison to keep order, were perfectly reassured. The
+drunkard would cause no disturbance. At the least scare of revolt or
+riot he would have been quieted and then bound. Accordingly the inferior
+officers closed their eyes; they knew that if vodka was forbidden all
+would go wrong. How was this vodka procured?
+
+It was bought in the convict prison itself from the drink-sellers, as
+they were called, who followed this trade--a very lucrative
+one--although the tipplers were not very numerous, for revelry was
+expensive, especially when it is considered how hardly money was earned.
+The drink business was begun, continued, and ended in rather an original
+manner. The prisoner who knew no trade, would not work, and who,
+nevertheless, desired to get speedily rich, made up his mind, when he
+possessed a little money, to buy and sell vodka. The enterprise was
+risky, it required great daring, for the speculator hazarded his skin as
+well as liquor. But the drink-seller hesitated before no obstacles. At
+the outset he brought the vodka himself to the prison and got rid of it
+on the most advantageous terms. He repeated this operation a second and
+a third time. If he had not been discovered by the officials, he now
+possessed a sum which enabled him to extend his business. He became a
+capitalist with agents and assistants, he risked much less and gained
+much more. Then his assistants incurred risk in place of him.
+
+Prisons are always abundantly inhabited by ruined men without the habit
+of work, but endowed with skill and daring; their only capital is their
+back. They often decide to put it into circulation, and propose to the
+drink-seller to introduce vodka into the barracks. There is always in
+the town a soldier, a shopkeeper, or some loose woman who, for a
+stipulated sum--rather a small one--buys vodka with the drink-seller's
+money, hides it in a place known to the convict-smuggler, near the
+workshop where he is employed. The person who supplies the vodka, tastes
+the precious liquid almost always as he is carrying it to the
+hiding-place, and replaces relentlessly what he has drunk by pure water.
+The purchaser may take it or leave it, but he cannot give himself airs.
+He thinks himself very lucky that his money has not been stolen from
+him, and that he has received some kind of vodka in exchange. The man
+who is to take it into the prison--to whom the drink-seller has
+indicated the hiding-place--goes to the supplier with bullock's
+intestines which after being washed, have been filled with water, and
+which thus preserves their softness and suppleness. When the intestines
+have been filled with vodka, the smuggler rolls them round his body.
+Now, all the cunning, the adroitness of this daring convict is shown.
+The man's honour is at stake. It is necessary for him to take in the
+escort and the man on guard; and he will take them in. If the carrier is
+artful, the soldier of the escort--sometimes a recruit--does not notice
+anything particular; for the prisoner has studied him thoroughly,
+besides which he has artfully combined the hour and the place of
+meeting. If the convict--a bricklayer for example--climbs up on the wall
+that he is building, the escort will certainly not climb up after him to
+watch his movements. Who then, will see what he is about? On getting
+near the prison, he gets ready a piece of fifteen or twenty kopecks, and
+waits at the gate for the corporal on guard.
+
+The corporal examines, feels, and searches each convict on his return to
+the barracks, and then opens the gate to him. The carrier of the vodka
+hopes that he will be ashamed to examine him too much in detail; but if
+the corporal is a cunning fellow, that is just what he will do; and in
+that case he finds the contraband vodka. The convict has now only one
+chance of salvation. He slips into the hand of the under officer the
+piece of money he holds in readiness, and often, thanks to this
+manoeuvre, the vodka arrives safely in the hands of the drink-seller.
+But sometimes the trick does not succeed, and it is then that the sole
+capital of the smuggler enters really into circulation. A report is made
+to the Major, who sentences the unhappy culprit to a thorough flogging.
+As for the vodka, it is confiscated. The smuggler undergoes his
+punishment without betraying the speculator, not because such a
+denunciation would disgrace him, but because it would bring him nothing.
+He would be flogged all the same, the only consolation he could have
+would be that the drink-seller would share his punishment; but as he
+needs him, he does not denounce him, although having allowed himself to
+be surprised, he will receive no payment from him.
+
+Denunciation, however, flourishes in the convict prison. Far from
+hating spies or keeping apart from them, the prisoners often make
+friends of them. If any one had taken it into his head to prove to the
+convicts all the baseness of mutual denunciation, no one in the prison
+would have understood. The former nobleman of whom I have already
+spoken, that cowardly and violent creature with whom I had already
+broken off all relations immediately after my arrival in the fortress,
+was the friend of Fedka, the Major's body-servant. He used to tell him
+everything that took place in the convict prison, and this was naturally
+carried back to the servant's master. Every one knew it, but no one had
+the idea of showing any ill-will against the man, or of reproaching him
+with his conduct. When the vodka arrived without accident at the prison,
+the speculator paid the smuggler and made up his accounts. His
+merchandise had already cost him sufficiently dear; and that the profit
+might be greater, he diluted it by adding fifty per cent. of pure water.
+He was ready, and had only to wait for customers.
+
+The first holiday, perhaps even on a week-day, a convict would turn up.
+He had been working like a negro for many months in order to save up,
+kopeck by kopeck, a small sum which he was resolved to spend all at
+once. These days of rejoicing had been looked forward to long
+beforehand. He had dreamt of them during the endless winter nights,
+during his hardest labour, and the perspective had supported him under
+his severest trials. The dawn of this day so impatiently awaited, has
+just appeared. He has some money in his pocket. It has been neither
+stolen from him nor confiscated. He is free to spend it. Accordingly he
+takes his savings to the drink-seller, who, to begin with, gives vodka
+which is almost pure--it has been only twice baptized--but gradually, as
+the bottle gets more and more empty, he fills it up with water.
+Accordingly the convict pays for his vodka five or six times as much as
+he would in a tavern.
+
+It may be imagined how many glasses, and, above all, what sums of money
+are required before the convict is drunk. However, as he has lost the
+habit of drinking, the little alcohol which remains in the liquid
+intoxicates him rapidly enough; he goes on drinking until there is
+nothing left; he pledges or sells all his new clothes--for the
+drink-seller is at the same time a pawnbroker. As his personal garments
+are not very numerous he next pledges the clothes supplied to him by the
+Government. When the drink has made away with his last shirt, his last
+rag, he lies down and wakes up the next morning with a bad headache. In
+vain he begs the drink-seller to give him credit for a drop of vodka in
+order to remove his depression; he experiences a direct refusal. That
+very day he sets to work again. For several months together, he will
+weary himself out while looking forward to such a debauch as the one
+which has now disappeared in the past. Little by little he regains
+courage while waiting for such another day, still far off, but which
+ultimately will arrive. As for the drink-seller, if he has gained a
+large sum--some dozen of roubles--he procures some more vodka, but this
+time he does not baptize it, because he intends it for himself. Enough
+of trade! it is time for him to amuse himself. Accordingly he eats,
+drinks, pays for a little music--his means allow him to grease the palm
+of the inferior officers in the convict prison. This festival lasts
+sometimes for several days. When his stock of vodka is exhausted, he
+goes and drinks with the other drink-sellers who are waiting for him; he
+then drinks up his last kopeck.
+
+However careful the convicts may be in watching over their companions in
+debauchery, it sometimes happens that the Major or the officer on guard
+notices what is going on. The drunkard is then dragged to the
+orderly-room, his money is confiscated if he has any left, and he is
+flogged. The convict shakes himself like a beaten dog, returns to
+barracks, and, after a few days, resumes his trade as drink-seller.
+
+It sometimes happens that among the convicts there are admirers of the
+fair sex. For a sufficiently large sum of money they succeed,
+accompanied by a soldier whom they have corrupted, in getting secretly
+out of the fortress into a suburb instead of going to work. There in an
+apparently quiet house a banquet is held at which large sums of money
+are spent. The convicts' money is not to be despised, accordingly the
+soldiers will sometimes arrange these temporary escapes beforehand, sure
+as they are of being generously recompensed. Generally speaking these
+soldiers are themselves candidates for the convict prison. The escapades
+are scarcely ever discovered. I must add that they are very rare, for
+they are very expensive, and the admirers of the fair sex are obliged to
+have recourse to other less costly means.
+
+At the beginning of my stay, a young convict with very regular features
+excited my curiosity; his name was Sirotkin, he was in many respects an
+enigmatic being. His face had struck me, he was not more than
+twenty-three years of age, and he belonged to the special section; that
+is to say, he was condemned to hard labour in perpetuity. He accordingly
+was to be looked upon as one of the most dangerous of military
+criminals. Mild and tranquil, he spoke little and rarely laughed; his
+blue eyes, his clear complexion, his fair hair gave him a soft
+expression, which even his shaven crown did not destroy. Although he had
+no trade, he managed to get himself money from time to time. He was
+remarkably lazy, and always dressed like a sloven; but if any one was
+generous enough to present him with a red shirt, he was beside himself
+with joy at having a new garment, and he exhibited it everywhere.
+Sirotkin neither drank nor played, and he scarcely ever quarrelled with
+the other convicts. He walked about with his hands in his pockets
+peacefully, and with a pensive air. What he was thinking of I cannot
+say. When any one called to him, to ask him a question, he replied with
+deference, precisely, without chattering like the others. He had in his
+eyes the expression of a child of ten; when he had money he bought
+nothing of what the others looked upon as indispensable. His vest might
+be torn, he did not get it mended, any more than he bought himself new
+boots. What particularly pleased him were the little white rolls and
+gingerbread, which he would eat with the satisfaction of a child of
+seven. When he was not at work he wandered about the barracks; when
+every one else was occupied, he remained with his arms by his sides; if
+any one joked with him, or laughed at him--which happened often
+enough--he turned on his heel without speaking and went elsewhere. If
+the pleasantry was too strong he blushed. I often asked myself for what
+crime he could have been condemned to hard labour. One day when I was
+ill, and lying in the hospital, Sirotkin was also there, stretched out
+on a bedstead not far from me. I entered into conversation with him; he
+became animated, and told me freely how he had been taken for a soldier,
+how his mother had followed him in tears, and what treatment he had
+endured in military service. He added that he had never been able to
+accustom himself to this life; every one was severe and angry with him
+about nothing, his officers were always against him.
+
+"But why did they send you here?--and into the special section above
+all! Ah, Sirotkin!"
+
+"Yes, Alexander Petrovitch, although I was only one year with the
+battalion, I was sent here for killing my captain, Gregory Petrovitch."
+
+"I heard about that, but I did not believe it; how was it that you
+killed him?"
+
+"All that was told you was true; my life was insupportable."
+
+"But the other recruits supported it well enough. It is very hard at the
+beginning, but men get accustomed to it and end by becoming excellent
+soldiers. Your mother must have pampered you and spoiled you. I am sure
+that she fed you with gingerbread and with sweet milk until you were
+eighteen."
+
+"My mother, it is true, was very fond of me. When I left her she took
+to her bed and remained there. How painful to me everything in my
+military life was; after that all went wrong. I was perpetually being
+punished, and why? I obeyed every one, I was exact, careful. I did not
+drink, I borrowed from no one--it's all up with a man when he begins to
+borrow--and yet every one around me was harsh and cruel. I sometimes hid
+myself in a corner and did nothing but sob. One day, or rather one
+night, I was on guard. It was autumn: there was a strong wind, and it
+was so dark that you could not see a speck, and I was sad, so sad! I
+took the bayonet from the end of my musket and placed it by my side.
+Then I put the barrel to my breast and with my big toe--I had taken my
+boot off--pressed the trigger. It missed fire. I looked at my musket and
+loaded it with a charge of fresh powder. Then I broke off the corner of
+my flint, and once more I placed the muzzle against my breast. Again
+there was a misfire. What was I to do? I said to myself. I put my boot
+on, I fastened my bayonet to the barrel, and walked up and down with my
+musket on my shoulder. Let them do what they like, I said to myself; but
+I will not be a soldier any longer. Half-an-hour afterwards the captain
+arrived, making his rounds. He came straight upon me. 'Is that the way
+you carry yourself when you are on guard?' I seized my musket, and stuck
+the bayonet into his body. Then I had to walk forty-six versts. That is
+how I came to be in the special section."
+
+He was telling no falsehood, yet I did not understand how they could
+have sent him there; such crimes deserve a much less severe punishment.
+Sirotkin was the only one of the convicts who was really handsome. As
+for his companions of the special section--to the number of
+fifteen--they were frightful to behold with their hideous, disgusting
+physiognomies. Gray heads were plentiful among them. I shall speak of
+these men further on. Sirotkin was often on good terms with Gazin, the
+drink-seller, of whom I have already spoken at the beginning of this
+chapter.
+
+This Gazin was a terrible being; the impression that he produced on
+every one was confusing or appalling. It seemed to me that a more
+ferocious, a more monstrous creature could not exist. Yet I have seen at
+Tobolsk, Kameneff, the brigand, celebrated for his crimes. Later, I saw
+Sokoloff, the escaped convict, formerly a deserter, who was a ferocious
+creature; but neither of them inspired me with so much disgust as Gazin.
+I often fancied that I had before my eyes an enormous, gigantic spider
+of the size of a man. He was a Tartar, and there was no convict so
+strong as he was. It was less by his great height and his herculean
+construction, than by his enormous and deformed head, that he inspired
+terror. The strangest reports were current about him. Some said that he
+had been a soldier, others that he had escaped from Nertchinsk, and that
+he had been exiled several times to Siberia, but had always succeeded in
+getting away. Landing at last in our convict prison, he belonged there
+to the special section. It appeared that he had taken a pleasure in
+killing little children when he had attracted them to some deserted
+place; then he frightened them, tortured them, and after having fully
+enjoyed the terror and the convulsions of the poor little things, he
+killed them resolutely and with delight. These horrors had perhaps been
+imagined by reason of the painful impression that the monster produced
+upon us; but they seemed probable, and harmonised with his physiognomy.
+Nevertheless, when Gazin was not drunk, he conducted himself well
+enough.
+
+He was always quiet, never quarrelled, avoided all disputes as if from
+contempt for his companions, just as though he had entertained a high
+opinion of himself. He spoke very little, all his movements were
+measured, calm, resolute. His look was not without intelligence, but its
+expression was cruel and derisive like his smile. Of all the convicts
+who sold vodka, he was the richest. Twice a year he got completely
+drunk, and it was then that all his brutal ferocity exhibited itself.
+Little by little he got excited, and began to tease the prisoners with
+venomous satire prepared long beforehand. Finally when he was quite
+drunk, he had attacks of furious rage, and, seizing a knife, would rush
+upon his companions. The convicts who knew his herculean vigour, avoided
+him and protected themselves against him, for he would throw himself on
+the first person he met. A means of disarming him had been discovered.
+Some dozen prisoners would rush suddenly upon Gazin, and give him
+violent blows in the pit of the stomach, in the belly, and generally
+beneath the region of the heart, until he lost consciousness. Any one
+else would have died under such treatment, but Gazin soon got well. When
+he had been well beaten they would wrap him up in his pelisse, and throw
+him upon his plank bedstead, leaving him to digest his drink. The next
+day he woke up almost well, and went to his work silent and sombre.
+Every time that Gazin got drunk, all the prisoners knew how his day
+would finish. He knew also, but he drank all the same. Several years
+passed in this way. Then it was noticed that Gazin had lost his energy,
+and that he was beginning to get weak. He did nothing but groan,
+complaining of all kinds of illnesses. His visits to the hospital became
+more and more frequent. "He is giving in," said the prisoners.
+
+At one time Gazin had gone into the kitchen followed by the little
+fellow who scraped the violin, and whom the convicts in their
+festivities used to hire to play to them. He stopped in the middle of
+the hall silently examining his companions one after another. No one
+breathed a word. When he saw me with my companions, he looked at us in
+his malicious, jeering style, and smiled horribly with the air of a man
+who was satisfied with a good joke that he had just thought of. He
+approached our table, tottering.
+
+"Might I ask," he said, "where you get the money which allows you to
+drink tea?"
+
+I exchanged a look with my neighbour. I understood that the best thing
+for us was to be silent, and not to answer. The least contradiction
+would have put Gazin in a passion.
+
+"You must have money," he continued, "you must have a good deal of money
+to drink tea; but, tell me, are you sent to hard labour to drink tea? I
+say, did you come here for that purpose? Please answer, I should like to
+know."
+
+Seeing that we were resolved on silence, and that we had determined not
+to pay any attention to him, he ran towards us, livid and trembling with
+rage. At two steps' distance, he saw a heavy box, which served to hold
+the bread given for the dinner and supper of the convicts. Its contents
+were sufficient for the meal of half the prisoners. At this moment it
+was empty. He seized it with both hands and brandished it above our
+heads. Although murder, or attempted, was an inexhaustible source of
+trouble for the convicts--examinations, counter-examinations, and
+inquiries without end would be the natural consequence--and though
+quarrels were generally cut short, when they did not lead to such
+serious results, yet every one remained silent and waited.
+
+Not one word in our favour, not one cry against Gazin. The hatred of all
+the prisoners for all who were of gentle birth was so great that every
+one of them was evidently pleased to see that we were in danger. But a
+fortunate incident terminated this scene, which must have become tragic.
+Gazin was about to let fly the enormous box, which he was turning and
+twisting above his head, when a convict ran in from the barracks, and
+cried out:
+
+"Gazin, they have stolen your vodka!"
+
+The horrible brigand let fall the box with a frightful oath, and ran out
+of the kitchen.
+
+"Well, God has saved them," said the prisoners among themselves,
+repeating the words several times.
+
+I never knew whether his vodka had been stolen, or whether it was only a
+stratagem invented to save us.
+
+That same evening, before the closing of the barracks, when it was
+already dark, I walked to the side of the palisade. A heavy feeling of
+sadness weighed upon my soul. During all the time that I passed in the
+convict prison I never felt myself so miserable as on that evening,
+though the first day is always the hardest, whether at hard labour or in
+the prison. One thought in particular had left me no respite since my
+deportation--a question insoluble then and insoluble now. I reflected on
+the inequality of the punishments inflicted for the same crimes. Often,
+indeed, one crime cannot be compared even approximately to another. Two
+murderers kill a man under circumstances which in each case are minutely
+examined and weighed. They each receive the same punishment; and yet by
+what an abyss are their two actions separated! One has committed a
+murder for a trifle--for an onion. He has killed on the high-road a
+peasant who was passing, and found on him an onion, and nothing else.
+
+"Well, I was sent to hard labour for a peasant who had nothing but an
+onion!"
+
+"Fool that you are! an onion is worth a kopeck. If you had killed a
+hundred peasants you would have had a hundred kopecks, or one rouble."
+The above is a prison joke.
+
+Another criminal has killed a debauchee who was oppressing or
+dishonouring his wife, his sister, or his daughter.
+
+A third, a vagabond, half dead with hunger, pursued by a whole band of
+police, was defending his liberty, his life. He is to be regarded as on
+an equality with the brigand who assassinates children for his
+amusement, for the pleasure of feeling their warm blood flow over his
+hands, of seeing them shudder in a last bird-like palpitation beneath
+the knife which tears their flesh!
+
+They will all alike be sent to hard labour; though the sentence will
+perhaps not be for the same number of years. But the variations in the
+punishment are not very numerous, whereas different kinds of crimes may
+be reckoned by thousands. As many characters, so many crimes.
+
+Let us admit that it is impossible to get rid of this first inequality
+in punishment, that the problem is insoluble, and that in connection
+with penal matters it is the squaring of the circle. Let all that be
+admitted; but even if this inequality cannot be avoided, there is
+another thing to be thought of--the consequences of the punishment. Here
+is a man who is wasting away like a candle; there is another one, on the
+contrary, who had no idea before going into exile that there could be
+such a gay, such an idle life, where he would find a circle of such
+agreeable friends. Individuals of this latter class are to be found in
+the convict prison.
+
+Now take a man of heart, of cultivated mind, and of delicate conscience.
+What he feels kills him more certainly than the material punishment. The
+judgment which he himself pronounces on his crime is more pitiless than
+that of the most severe tribunal, the most Draconian law. He lives by
+the side of another convict, who has not once reflected on the murder he
+is expiating, during the whole time of his sojourn in the convict
+prison. He, perhaps, even considers himself innocent. Are there not,
+also, poor devils who commit crimes in order to be sent to hard labour,
+and thus to escape the liberty which is much more painful than
+confinement? A man's life is miserable, he has never, perhaps, been able
+to satisfy his hunger. He is worked to death in order to enrich his
+master. In the convict prison his work will be less severe, less
+crushing. He will eat as much as he wants, better than he could ever
+have hoped to eat, had he remained free. On holidays he will have meat,
+and fine people will give him alms, and his evening's work will bring
+him in some money. And the society one meets with in the convict prison,
+is that to be counted for nothing? The convicts are clever, wide-awake
+people, who are up to everything. The new arrival can scarcely conceal
+the admiration he feels for his companions in labour. He has seen
+nothing like it before, and he will consider himself in the best
+company possible.
+
+Is it possible that men so differently situated can feel in an equal
+degree the punishment inflicted? But why think about questions that are
+insoluble? The drum beats, let us go back to barracks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)
+
+
+We were between walls once more. The doors of the barracks were locked,
+each with a particular padlock, and the prisoners remained shut up till
+the next morning.
+
+The verification was made by a non-commissioned officer accompanied by
+two soldiers. When by chance an officer was present, the convicts were
+drawn up in the court-yard, but generally speaking they were identified
+in the buildings. As the soldiers often made mistakes, they went out and
+came back in order to count us again and again, until their reckoning
+was satisfactory, then the barracks were closed. Each one contained
+about thirty prisoners, and we were very closely packed in our camp
+bedsteads. As it was too soon to go to sleep, the convicts occupied
+themselves with work.
+
+Besides the old soldier of whom I have spoken, who slept in our
+dormitory, and represented there the administration of the prison, there
+was in our barrack another old soldier wearing a medal as rewarded for
+good conduct. It happened often enough, however, that the good-conduct
+men themselves committed offences for which they were sentenced to be
+whipped. They then lost their rank, and were immediately replaced by
+comrades whose conduct was considered satisfactory.
+
+Our good-conduct man was no other than Akim Akimitch. To my great
+astonishment, he was very rough with the prisoners, but they only
+replied by jokes. The other old soldier, more prudent, interfered with
+no one, and if he opened his mouth, it was only as a matter of form, as
+an affair of duty. For the most part he remained silent, seated on his
+little bedstead, occupied in mending his own boots.
+
+That day I could not help making to myself an observation, the accuracy
+of which became afterwards apparent: that all those who are not convicts
+and who have to deal with them, whoever they may be--beginning with the
+soldiers of the escort and the sentinels--look upon the convicts in a
+false and exaggerated light, expecting that for a yes or a no, these men
+will throw themselves upon them knife in hand. The prisoners, perfectly
+conscious of the fear they inspire, show a certain arrogance.
+Accordingly, the best prison director is the one who experiences no
+emotion in their presence. In spite of the airs they give themselves,
+the convicts prefer that confidence should be placed in them. By such
+means, indeed, they may be conciliated. I have more than once had
+occasion to notice their astonishment at an official entering their
+prison without an escort, and certainly their astonishment was not
+unflattering. A visitor who is intrepid imposes respect. If anything
+unfortunate happens, it will not be in his presence. The terror inspired
+by the convicts is general, and yet I saw no foundation for it. Is it
+the appearance of the prisoner, his brigand-like look, that causes a
+certain repugnance? Is it not rather the feeling that invades you
+directly you enter the prison, that in spite of all efforts, all
+precautions, it is impossible to turn a living man into a corpse, to
+stifle his feelings, his thirst for vengeance and for life, his
+passions, and his imperious desire to satisfy them? However that may be,
+I declare that there is no reason for fearing the convicts. A man does
+not throw himself so quickly nor so easily upon his fellow-man, knife in
+hand. Few accidents happen; sometimes they are so rare that the danger
+may be looked upon as non-existent.
+
+I speak, it must be understood, only of prisoners already condemned,
+who are undergoing their punishment, and some of whom are almost happy
+to find themselves in the convict prison; so attractive under all
+circumstances is a new form of life. These latter live quiet and
+contented. As for the turbulent ones, the convicts themselves keep them
+in restraint, and their arrogance never goes too far. The prisoner,
+audacious and reckless as he may be, is afraid of every official
+connected with the prison. It is by no means the same with the accused
+whose fate has not been decided. Such a one is quite capable of
+attacking, no matter whom, without any motive of hatred, and solely
+because he is to be whipped the next day. If, indeed, he commits a fresh
+crime his offence becomes complicated. Punishment is delayed, and he
+gains time. The act of aggression is explained; it has a cause, an
+object. The convict wishes at all hazards to change his fate, and that
+as soon as possible. In connection with this, I myself have witnessed a
+physiological fact of the strangest kind.
+
+In the section of military convicts was an old soldier who had been
+condemned to two years' hard labour, a great boaster, and at the same
+time a coward. Generally speaking, the Russian soldier does not boast.
+He has no time for doing so, even had he the inclination. When such a
+one appears among a multitude of others, he is always a coward and a
+rogue. Dutoff--that was the name of the prisoner of whom I am
+speaking--underwent his punishment, and then went back to the same
+battalion in the Line; but, like all who are sent to the convict prison
+to be corrected, he had been thoroughly corrupted. A "return horse"
+re-appears in the convict prison after two or three weeks' liberty, not
+for a comparatively short time, but for fifteen or twenty years. So it
+happened in the case of Dutoff. Three weeks after he had been set at
+liberty, he robbed one of his comrades, and was, moreover, mutinous. He
+was taken before a court-martial and sentenced to a severe form of
+corporal punishment. Horribly frightened, like the coward that he was,
+at the prospect of punishment, he threw himself, knife in hand, on to
+the officer of the guard, as he entered his dungeon on the eve of the
+day that he was to run the gauntlet through the men of his company. He
+quite understood that he was aggravating his offence, and that the
+duration of his punishment would be increased; but all he wanted was to
+postpone for some days, or at least for some hours, a terrible moment.
+He was such a coward that he did not even wound the officer whom he had
+attacked. He had, indeed, only committed this assault in order to add a
+new crime to the last already against him, and thus defer the sentence.
+
+The moment preceding the punishment is terrible for the man condemned to
+the rods. I have seen many of them on the eve of the fatal day. I
+generally met with them in the hospital when I was ill, which happened
+often enough. In Russia the people who show most compassion for the
+convicts are certainly the doctors, who never make between the prisoners
+the distinctions observed by other persons brought into direct relations
+with them. In this respect the common people can alone be compared with
+the doctors, for they never reproach a criminal with the crime that he
+has committed, whatever it may be. They forgive him in consideration of
+the sentence passed upon him.
+
+Is it not known that the common people throughout Russia call crime a
+"misfortune," and the criminal an "unfortunate"? This definition is
+expressive, profound, and, moreover, unconscious, instinctive. To the
+doctor the convicts have naturally recourse, above all when they are to
+undergo corporal punishment. The prisoner who has been before a
+court-martial knows pretty well at what moment his sentence will be
+executed. To escape it he gets himself sent to the hospital, in order to
+postpone for some days the terrible moment. When he is declared restored
+to health, he knows that the day after he leaves the hospital this
+moment will arrive. Accordingly, on quitting the hospital the convict is
+always in a state of agitation. Some of them may endeavour from vanity
+to conceal their anxiety, but no one is taken in by that; every one
+understands the cruelty of such a moment, and is silent from humane
+motives.
+
+I knew one young convict, an ex-soldier, sentenced for murder, who was
+to receive the maximum of rods. The eve of the day on which he was to be
+flogged, he had resolved to drink a bottle of vodka in which he had
+infused a quantity of snuff.
+
+The prisoner condemned to the rods always drinks, before the critical
+moment arrives, a certain amount of spirits which he has procured long
+beforehand, and often at a fabulous price. He would deprive himself of
+the necessaries of life for six months rather than not be in a position
+to swallow half a pint of vodka before the flogging. The convicts are
+convinced that a drunken man suffers less from the sticks or whip than
+one who is in cold blood.
+
+I will return to my narrative. The poor devil felt ill a few moments
+after he had swallowed his bottle of vodka. He vomited blood, and was
+carried in a state of unconsciousness to the hospital. His lungs were so
+much injured by this accident that phthisis declared itself, and carried
+off the soldier in a few months. The doctors who had attended him never
+knew the origin of his illness.
+
+If examples of cowardice are not rare among the prisoners, it must be
+added that there are some whose intrepidity is quite astounding. I
+remember many instances of courage pushed to the extreme. The arrival in
+the hospital of a terrible bandit remains fixed in my memory.
+
+One fine summer day the report was spread in the infirmary that the
+famous prisoner, Orloff, was to be flogged the same evening, and that he
+would be brought afterwards to the hospital. The prisoners who were
+already there said that the punishment would be a cruel one, and every
+one--including myself I must admit--was awaiting with curiosity the
+arrival of this brigand, about whom the most unheard-of things were
+told. He was a malefactor of a rare kind, capable of assassinating in
+cold blood old men and children. He possessed an indomitable force of
+will, and was fully conscious of his power. As he had been guilty of
+several crimes, they had condemned him to be flogged through the ranks.
+
+He was brought, or, rather carried, in towards evening. The place was
+already dark. Candles were lighted. Orloff was excessively pale, almost
+unconscious, with his thick curly hair of dull black without the least
+brilliancy. His back was skinned and swollen, blue, and stained with
+blood. The prisoners nursed him throughout the night; they changed his
+poultices, placed him on his side, prepared for him the lotion ordered
+by the doctor; in a word, showed as much solicitude for him as for a
+relation or benefactor.
+
+Next day he had fully recovered his faculties, and took one or two turns
+round the room. I was much astonished, for he was broken down and
+powerless when he was brought in. He had received half the number of
+blows ordered by the sentence. The doctor had stopped the punishment,
+convinced that if it were continued Orloff's death would inevitably
+ensue.
+
+This criminal was of a feeble constitution, weakened by long
+imprisonment. Whoever has seen prisoners after having been flogged, will
+remember their thin, drawn-out features and their feverish looks. Orloff
+soon recovered his powerful energy, which enabled him to get over his
+physical weakness. He was no ordinary man. From curiosity I made his
+acquaintance, and was able to study him at leisure for an entire week.
+Never in my life did I meet a man whose will was more firm or
+inflexible.
+
+I had seen at Tobolsk a celebrity of the same kind--a former chief of
+brigands. This man was a veritable wild beast; by being near him,
+without even knowing him, it was impossible not to recognise in him a
+dangerous creature. What above all frightened me was his stupidity.
+Matter, in this man, had taken such an ascendant over mind, that one
+could see at a glance that he cared for nothing in the world but the
+brutal satisfaction of his physical wants. I was certain, however, that
+Kareneff--that was his name--would have fainted on being condemned to
+such rigorous corporal punishment as Orloff had undergone; and that he
+would have murdered the first man near him without blinking.
+
+Orloff, on the contrary, was a brilliant example of the victory of
+spirit over matter. He had a perfect command over himself. He despised
+punishment, and feared nothing in the world. His dominant characteristic
+was boundless energy, a thirst for vengeance, and an immovable will when
+he had some object to attain.
+
+I was not astonished at his haughty air. He looked down upon all around
+him from the height of his grandeur. Not that he took the trouble to
+pose; his pride was an innate quality. I don't think that anything had
+the least influence over him. He looked upon everything with the calmest
+eye, as if nothing in the world could astonish him. He knew well that
+the other prisoners respected him; but he never took advantage of it to
+give himself airs.
+
+Nevertheless, vanity and conceit are defects from which scarcely any
+convict is exempt. He was intelligent and strangely frank in talking too
+much about himself. He replied point-blank to all the questions I put to
+him, and confessed to me that he was waiting impatiently for his return
+to health in order to take the remainder of the punishment he was to
+undergo.
+
+"Now," he said to me with a wink, "it is all over. I shall have the
+remainder, and shall be sent to Nertchinsk with a convoy of prisoners. I
+shall profit by it to escape. I shall get away beyond doubt. If only my
+back would heal a little quicker!"
+
+For five days he was burning with impatience to be in a condition for
+leaving the hospital At times he was gay and in the best of humours. I
+profited by these rare occasions to question him about his adventures.
+
+Then he would contract his eyebrows a little; but he always answered my
+questions in a straightforward manner. When he understood that I was
+endeavouring to see through him, and to discover in him some trace of
+repentance, he looked at me with a haughty and contemptuous air, as if I
+were a foolish little boy, to whom he did too much honour by conversing
+with him.
+
+I detected in his countenance a sort of compassion for me. After a
+moment's pause he laughed out loud, but without the least irony. I fancy
+he must, more than once, have laughed in the same manner, when my words
+returned to his memory. At last he wrote down his name as cured,
+although his back was not yet entirely healed. As I also was almost
+well, we left the infirmary together and returned to the convict prison,
+while he was shut up in the guard-room, where he had been imprisoned
+before. When he left me he shook me by the hand, which in his eyes was a
+great mark of confidence. I fancy he did so, because at that moment he
+was in a good humour. But in reality he must have despised me, for I was
+a feeble being, contemptible in all respects, and guilty above all of
+resignation. The next day he underwent the second half of his
+punishment.
+
+When the gates of the barracks had been closed, it assumed, in less than
+no time, quite another aspect--that of a private house, of quite a home.
+Then only did I see my convict comrades at their ease. During the day
+the under officers, or some of the other authorities, might suddenly
+arrive, so that the prisoners were then always on the look-out. They
+were only half at their ease. As soon, however, as the bolts had been
+pushed and the gates padlocked, every one sat down in his place and
+began to work. The barrack was lighted up in an unexpected manner. Each
+convict had his candle and his wooden candlestick. Some of them stitched
+boots, others sewed different kinds of garments. The air, already
+mephitic, became more and more impure.
+
+Some of the prisoners, huddled together in a corner, played at cards on
+a piece of carpet. In each barrack there was a prisoner who possessed a
+small piece of carpet, a candle, and a pack of horribly greasy cards.
+The owner of the cards received from the players fifteen kopecks [about
+sixpence] a night. They generally played at the "three leaves"--Gorka,
+that is to say: a game of chance. Each player placed before him a pile
+of copper money--all that he possessed--and did not get up until he had
+lost it or had broken the bank.
+
+Playing was continued until late at night; sometimes the dawn found the
+gamblers still at their game. Often, indeed, it did not cease until a
+few minutes before the opening of the gates. In our room--as in all the
+others--there were beggars ruined by drink and play, or rather beggars
+innate--I say innate, and maintain my expression. Indeed, in our
+country, and in all classes, there are, and always will be, strange
+easy-going people whose destiny it is to remain always beggars. They are
+poor devils all their lives; quite broken down, they remain under the
+domination or guardianship of some one, generally a prodigal, or a man
+who has suddenly made his fortune. All initiative is for them an
+insupportable burden. They only exist on condition of undertaking
+nothing for themselves, and by serving, always living under the will of
+another. They are destined to act by and through others. Under no
+circumstances, even of the most unexpected kind, can they get rich; they
+are always beggars. I have met these persons in all classes of society,
+in all coteries, in all associations, including the literary world.
+
+As soon as a party was made up, one of these beggars, quite
+indispensable to the game, was summoned. He received five kopecks for a
+whole night's employment; and what employment it was! His duty was to
+keep guard in the vestibule, with thirty degrees (R�aumur) of frost, in
+total darkness, for six or seven hours. The man on watch had to listen
+for the slightest noise, for the Major or one of the other officers of
+the guard would sometimes make a round rather late in the night. They
+arrived secretly, and sometimes discovered the players and the watchers
+in the act--thanks to the light of the candles, which could be seen from
+the court-yard.
+
+When the key was heard grinding in the padlock which closed the gate, it
+was too late to put the lights out and lie down on the plank bedsteads.
+Such surprises were, however, rare. Five kopecks was a ridiculous
+payment even in our convict prison, and the exigency and hardness of the
+gamblers astonished me in this as in many cases: "You are paid, you must
+do what you are told." This was the argument, and it admitted of no
+reply. To have paid a few kopecks to any one gave the right to turn him
+to the best possible account, and even to claim his gratitude. More than
+once it happened to me to see the convicts spend their money
+extravagantly, throwing it away on all sides, and, at the same time,
+cheat the man employed to watch. I have seen this in several barracks on
+many occasions.
+
+I have already said that, with the exception of the gamblers, every one
+worked. Five only of the convicts remained completely idle, and went to
+bed on the first opportunity. My sleeping place was near the door. Next
+to me was Akim Akimitch, and when we were lying down our heads touched.
+He used to work until ten or eleven at making, by pasting together
+pieces of paper, multicolour lanterns, which some one living in the town
+had ordered from him, and for which he used to be well paid. He excelled
+in this kind of work, and did it methodically and regularly. When he had
+finished he put away carefully his tools, unfolded his mattress, said
+his prayers, and went to sleep with the sleep of the just. He carried
+his love of order even to pedantry, and must have thought himself in his
+inner heart a man of brains, as is generally the case with narrow,
+mediocre persons. I did not like him the first day, although he gave me
+much to think of. I was astonished that such a man could be found in a
+convict prison. I shall speak of Akimitch further on in the course of
+this book.
+
+But I must now continue to describe the persons with whom I was to live
+a number of years. Those who surrounded me were to be my companions
+every minute, and it will be understood that I looked upon them with
+anxious curiosity.
+
+On my left slept a band of mountaineers from the Caucasus, nearly all
+exiled for brigandage, but condemned to different punishments. There
+were two Lesghians, a Circassian, and three Tartars from Daghestan. The
+Circassian was a morose and sombre person. He scarcely ever spoke, and
+looked at you sideways with a sly, sulky, wild-beast-like expression.
+One of the Lesghians, an old man with an aquiline nose, tall and thin,
+seemed to be a true brigand; but the other Lesghian, Nourra by name,
+made a most favourable impression upon me. Of middle height, still
+young, built like a Hercules, with fair hair and violet eyes; he had a
+slightly turned up nose, while his features were somewhat of a Finnish
+cast. Like all horsemen, he walked with his toes in. His body was
+striped with scars, ploughed by bayonet wounds and bullets. Although he
+belonged to the conquered part of the Caucasus, he had joined the
+rebels, with whom he used to make continual incursions into our
+territory. Every one liked him in the prison by reason of his gaiety and
+affability. He worked without murmuring, always calm and peaceful.
+Thieving, cheating, and drunkenness filled him with disgust, or put him
+in a rage--not that he wished to quarrel with any one; he simply turned
+away with indignation. During his confinement he committed no breach of
+the rules. Fervently pious, he said his prayers religiously every
+evening, observed all the Mohammedan fasts like a true fanatic, and
+passed whole nights in prayer. Every one liked him, and looked upon him
+as a thoroughly honest man. "Nourra is a lion," said the convicts; and
+the name of "Lion" stuck to him. He was quite convinced that as soon as
+he had finished his sentence he would be sent to the Caucasus. Indeed,
+he only lived by this hope, and I believe he would have died had he been
+deprived of it. I noticed it the very day of my arrival. How was it
+possible not to distinguish this calm, honest face in the midst of so
+many sombre, sardonic, repulsive countenances!
+
+Before I had been half-an-hour in the prison, he passed by my side and
+touched me gently on the shoulder, smiling at the same time with an
+innocent air. I did not at first understand what he meant, for he spoke
+Russian very badly; but soon afterwards he passed again, and, with a
+friendly smile, again touched me on the shoulder. For three days running
+he repeated this strange proceeding. As I soon found out, he wanted to
+show me that he pitied me, and that he felt how painful the first moment
+of imprisonment must be. He wanted to testify his sympathy, to keep up
+my spirits, and to assure me of his good-will. Kind and innocent Nourra!
+
+Of the three Tartars from Daghestan, all brothers, the two eldest were
+well-developed men, while the youngest, Ali, was not more than
+twenty-two, and looked younger. He slept by my side, and when I observed
+his frank, intelligent countenance, thoroughly natural, I was at once
+attracted to him, and thanked my fate that I had him for a neighbour in
+place of some other prisoner. His whole soul could be read in his
+beaming countenance. His confident smile had a certain childish
+simplicity; his large black eyes expressed such friendliness, such
+tender feeling, that I always took a pleasure in looking at him. It was
+a relief to me in moments of sadness and anguish. One day his eldest
+brother--he had five, of whom two were working in the mines of
+Siberia--had ordered him to take his yataghan, to get on horseback, and
+follow him. The respect of the mountaineers for their elders is so great
+that young Ali did not dare to ask the object of the expedition. He
+probably knew nothing about it, nor did his brothers consider it
+necessary to tell him. They were going to plunder the caravan of a rich
+Armenian merchant, and they succeeded in their enterprise. They
+assassinated the merchant and stole his goods. Unhappily for them, their
+act of brigandage was discovered. They were tried, flogged, and then
+sent to hard labour in Siberia. The Court admitted no extenuating
+circumstances, except in the case of Ali. He was condemned to the
+minimum punishment--four years' confinement. These brothers loved him,
+their affection being paternal rather than fraternal. He was the only
+consolation of their exile. Dull and sad as a rule, they had always a
+smile for him when they spoke to him, which they rarely did--for they
+looked upon him as a child to whom it would be useless to speak
+seriously--their forbidding countenances lightened up. I fancied they
+always spoke to him in a jocular tone, as to an infant. When he replied,
+the brothers exchanged glances, and smiled good-naturedly.
+
+He would not have dared to speak to them first by reason of his respect
+for them. How this young man preserved his tender heart, his native
+honesty, his frank cordiality without getting perverted and corrupted
+during his period of hard labour, is quite inexplicable. In spite of his
+gentleness, he had a strong stoical nature, as I afterwards saw. Chaste
+as a young girl, everything that was foul, cynical, shameful, or unjust
+filled his fine black eyes with indignation, and made them finer than
+ever. Without being a coward, he would allow himself to be insulted with
+impunity. He avoided quarrels and insults, and preserved all his
+dignity. With whom, indeed, was he to quarrel? Every one loved him,
+caressed him.
+
+At first he was only polite to me; but little by little we got into the
+habit of talking together in the evening, and in a few months he had
+learnt to speak Russian perfectly, whereas his brothers never gained a
+correct knowledge of the language. He was intelligent, and at the same
+time modest and full of delicate feeling.
+
+Ali was an exceptional being, and I always think of my meeting him as
+one of the lucky things in my life. There are some natures so
+spontaneously good and endowed by God with such great qualities that the
+idea of their getting perverted seems absurd. One is always at ease
+about them. Accordingly I had never any fears about Ali. Where is he
+now?
+
+One day, a considerable time after my arrival at the convict prison, I
+was stretched out on my camp-bedstead agitated by painful thoughts. Ali,
+always industrious, was not working at this moment. His time for going
+to bed had not arrived. The brothers were celebrating some Mussulman
+festival, and were not working. Ali was lying down with his head between
+his hands in a state of reverie. Suddenly he said to me:
+
+"Well, you are very sad!"
+
+I looked at him with curiosity. Such a remark from Ali, always so
+delicate, so full of tact, seemed strange. But I looked at him more
+attentively, and saw so much grief, so much repressed suffering in his
+countenance--of suffering caused no doubt by sudden recollections--that
+I understood in what pain he must be, and said so to him. He uttered a
+deep sigh, and smiled with a melancholy air. I always liked his
+graceful, agreeable smile. When he laughed, he showed two rows of teeth
+which the first beauty in the world would have envied him.
+
+"You were probably thinking, Ali, how this festival is celebrated in
+Daghestan. Ah, you were happy there!"
+
+"Yes," he replied with enthusiasm, and his eyes sparkled. "How did you
+know I was thinking of such things?"
+
+"How was I not to know? You were much better off than you are here."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"What beautiful flowers there are in your country! Is it not so? It is a
+true paradise."
+
+"Be silent, please."
+
+He was much agitated.
+
+"Listen, Ali. Had you a sister?"
+
+"Yes; why do you ask me?"
+
+"She must have been very beautiful if she is like you?"
+
+"Oh, there is no comparison to make between us. In all Daghestan no such
+beautiful girl is to be seen. My sister is, indeed, charming. I am sure
+that you have never seen any one like her. My mother also is very
+handsome."
+
+"And your mother was fond of you?"
+
+"What are you saying? Certainly she was. I am sure that she has died of
+grief, she was so fond of me. I was her favourite child. Yes, she loved
+me more than my sister, more than all the others. This very night she
+has appeared to me in a dream, she shed tears for me."
+
+He was silent, and throughout the rest of the night did not open his
+mouth; but from this very moment he sought my company and my
+conversation; although very respectful, he never allowed himself to
+address me first. On the other hand he was happy when I entered into
+conversation with him. He spoke often of the Caucasus, and of his past
+life. His brothers did not forbid him to converse with me; I think even
+that they encouraged him to do so. When they saw that I had formed an
+attachment to him, they became more affable towards me.
+
+Ali often helped me in my work. In the barrack he did whatever he
+thought would be agreeable to me, and would save me trouble. In his
+attentions to me there was neither servility nor the hope of any
+advantage, but only a warm, cordial feeling, which he did not try to
+hide. He had an extraordinary aptitude for the mechanical arts. He had
+learnt to sew very tolerably, and to mend boots; he even understood a
+little carpentering--everything in short that could be learnt at the
+convict prison. His brothers were proud of him.
+
+"Listen, Ali," I said to him one day, "why don't you learn to read and
+write the Russian language, it might be very useful to you here in
+Siberia?"
+
+"I should like to do so, but who would teach me?"
+
+"There are plenty of people here who can read and write. I myself will
+teach you if you like."
+
+"Oh, do teach me, I beg of you," said Ali, raising himself up in bed; he
+joined his hands and looked at me with a suppliant air.
+
+We went to work the very next evening. I had with me a Russian
+translation of the New Testament, the only book that was not forbidden
+in the prison. With this book alone, without an alphabet, Ali learnt to
+read in a few weeks, and after a few months he could read perfectly. He
+brought to his studies extraordinary zeal and warmth.
+
+One day we were reading together the Sermon on the Mount. I noticed that
+he read certain passages with much feeling; and I asked him if he was
+pleased with what he read. He glanced at me, and his face suddenly
+lighted up.
+
+"Yes, yes, Jesus is a holy prophet. He speaks the language of God. How
+beautiful it is!"
+
+"But tell me what it is that particularly pleases you."
+
+"The passage in which it is said, 'Forgive those that hate you!' Ah! how
+divinely He speaks!"
+
+He turned towards his brothers, who were listening to our conversation,
+and said to them with warmth a few words. They talked together seriously
+for some time, giving their approval of what their young brother had
+said by a nodding of the head. Then with a grave, kindly smile, quite a
+Mussulman smile (I liked the gravity of this smile), they assured me
+that Isu [Jesus] was a great prophet. He had done great miracles. He had
+created a bird with a little clay on which he breathed the breath of
+life, and the bird had then flown away. That, they said, was written in
+their books. They were convinced that they would please me much by
+praising Jesus. As for Ali, he was happy to see that his brothers
+approved of our friendship, and that they were giving me, what he
+thought would be, grateful words. The success I had with my pupil in
+teaching him to write, was really extraordinary. Ali had bought paper at
+his own expense, for he would not allow me to purchase any, also pens
+and ink; and in less than two months he had learnt to write. His
+brothers were astonished at such rapid progress. Their satisfaction and
+their pride were without bounds. They did not know how to show me enough
+gratitude. At the workshop, if we happened to be together, there were
+disputes as to which of them should help me. I do not speak of Ali, he
+felt for me more affection than even for his brothers. I shall never
+forget the day on which he was liberated. He went with me outside the
+barracks, threw himself on my neck and sobbed. He had never embraced me
+before, and had never before wept in my presence.
+
+"You have done so much for me," he said; "neither my father nor my
+mother have ever been kinder. You have made a man of me. God will bless
+you, I shall never forget you, never!"
+
+Where is he now, where is my good, kind, dear Ali?
+
+Besides the Circassians, we had a certain number of Poles, who formed a
+separate group. They had scarcely any relations with the other convicts.
+I have already said that, thanks to their hatred for the Russian
+prisoners, they were detested by every one. They were of a restless,
+morbid disposition: there were six of them, some of them men of
+education, of whom I shall speak in detail further on. It was from them
+that during the last days of my imprisonment I obtained a few books. The
+first work I read made a deep impression upon me. I shall speak further
+on of these sensations, which I look upon as very curious, though it
+will be difficult to understand them. Of this I am certain, for there
+are certain things as to which one cannot judge without having
+experienced them oneself. It will be enough for me to say that
+intellectual privations are more difficult to support than the most
+frightful, physical tortures.
+
+A common man sent to hard labour finds himself in kindred society,
+perhaps even in a more interesting society than he has been accustomed
+to. He loses his native place, his family; but his ordinary surroundings
+are much the same as before. A man of education, condemned by law to the
+same punishment as the common man, suffers incomparably more. He must
+stifle all his needs, all his habits, he must descend into a lower
+sphere, must breathe another air. He is like a fish thrown upon the
+sand. The punishment that he undergoes, equal for all criminals
+according to the law, is ten times more severe and more painful for him
+than for the common man. This is an incontestable truth, even if one
+thinks only of the material habits that have to be sacrificed.
+
+I was saying that the Poles formed a group by themselves. They lived
+together, and of all the convicts in the prison, they cared only for a
+Jew, and for no other reason than because he amused them. Our Jew was
+generally liked, although every one laughed at him. We only had one, and
+even now I cannot think of him without laughing. Whenever I looked at
+him I thought of the Jew Jankel, whom Gogol describes in his Tarass
+Boulba, and who, when undressed and ready to go to bed with his Jewess
+in a sort of cupboard, resembled a fowl; but Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein and
+a plucked fowl were as like one another as two drops of water. He was
+already of a certain age--about fifty--small, feeble, cunning, and, at
+the same time, very stupid, bold, and boastful, though a horrible
+coward. His face was covered with wrinkles, his forehead and cheeks were
+scarred from the burning he had received in the pillory. I never
+understood how he had been able to support the sixty strokes he
+received.
+
+He had been sentenced for murder. He carried on his person a medical
+prescription which had been given to him by other Jews immediately after
+his exposure in the pillory. Thanks to the ointment prescribed, the
+scars were to disappear in less than a fortnight. He had been afraid to
+use it. He was waiting for the expiration of his twenty years (after
+which he would become a colonist) in order to utilise his famous remedy.
+
+"Otherwise I shall not be able to get married," he would say; "and I
+must absolutely marry."
+
+We were great friends: his good-humour was inexhaustible. The life of
+the convict prison did not seem to disagree with him. A goldsmith by
+trade, he received more orders than he could execute, for there was no
+jeweller's shop in our town. He thus escaped his hard labour. As a
+matter of course, he lent money on pledges to the convicts, who paid him
+heavy interest. He arrived at the prison before I did. One of the Poles
+related to me his triumphal entry. It is quite a history, which I shall
+relate further on, for I shall often have to speak of Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein.
+
+As for the other prisoners there were, first of all, four "old
+believers," among whom was the old man from Starodoub, two or three
+Little Russians, very morose persons, and a young convict with delicate
+features and a finely-chiselled nose, about twenty-three years of age,
+who had already committed eight murders; besides a band of coiners, one
+of whom was the buffoon of our barracks; and, finally, some sombre,
+sour-tempered convicts, shorn and disfigured, always silent, and full of
+envy. They looked askance at all who came near them, and must have
+continued to do so during a long course of years. I saw all this
+superficially on the first night of my arrival, in the midst of thick
+smoke, in a mephitic atmosphere, amid obscene oaths, accompanied by the
+rattling of chains, by insults, and cynical laughter. I stretched
+myself out on the bare planks, my head resting on my coat, rolled up to
+do duty in lieu of a pillow, not yet supplied to me. Then I covered
+myself with my sheepskin, but, thanks to the painful impression of this
+evening, I was unable for some time to get to sleep. My new life was
+only just beginning. The future reserved for me many things which I had
+not foreseen, and of which I had never the least idea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE FIRST MONTH
+
+
+Three days after my arrival I was ordered to go to work. The impression
+left upon me to this day is still very clear, although there was nothing
+very striking in it, unless one considers that my position was in itself
+extraordinary. The first sensations count for a good deal, and I as yet
+looked upon everything with curiosity. My first three days were
+certainly the most painful of all my terms of imprisonment.
+
+My wandering is at an end, I said to myself every moment. I am now in
+the convict prison, my resting-place for many years. Here is where I am
+to live. I come here full of grief, who knows that when I leave it I
+shall not do so with regret? I said this to myself as one touches a
+wound, the better to feel its pain. The idea that I might regret my stay
+was terrible to me. Already I felt to what an intolerable degree man is
+a creature of habit, but this was a matter of the future. The present,
+meanwhile, was terrible enough.
+
+The wild curiosity with which my convict companions examined me, their
+harshness towards a former nobleman now entering into their corporation,
+a harshness which sometimes took the form of hatred--all this tormented
+me to such a degree that I felt obliged of my own accord to go to work
+in order to measure at one stroke the whole extent of my misfortune,
+that I might at once begin to live like the others, and fall with them
+into the same abyss.
+
+But convicts differ, and I had not yet disentangled from the general
+hostility the sympathy here and there manifested towards me.
+
+After a time the affability and good-will shown to me by certain
+convicts gave me a little courage, and restored my spirits. Most
+friendly among them was Akim Akimitch. I soon noticed some kind,
+good-natured faces in the dark and hateful crowd. Bad people are to be
+found everywhere, but even among the worst there may be something good,
+I began to think, by way of consolation. Who knows? These persons are
+perhaps not worse than others who are free. While making these
+reflections I felt some doubts, and, nevertheless, how much I was in the
+right!
+
+The convict Suchiloff, for example; a man whose acquaintance I did not
+make until long afterwards, although he was near me during nearly the
+whole period of my confinement. Whenever I speak of the convicts who are
+not worse than other men, my thoughts turn involuntarily to him. He
+acted as my servant, together with another prisoner named Osip, whom
+Akim Akimitch had recommended to me immediately after my arrival. For
+thirty kopecks a month this man agreed to cook me a separate dinner, in
+case I should not be able to put up with the ordinary prison fare, and
+should be able to pay for my own food. Osip was one of the four cooks
+chosen by the prisoners in our two kitchens. I may observe that they
+were at liberty to refuse these duties, and give them up whenever they
+might think fit. The cooks were men from whom hard labour was not
+expected. They had to bake bread and prepare the cabbage soup. They were
+called "cook-maids," not from contempt, for the men chosen were always
+the most intelligent, but merely in fun. The name given to them did not
+annoy them.
+
+For many years past Osip had been constantly selected as "cook-maid." He
+never refused the duty except when he was out of sorts, or when he saw
+an opportunity of getting spirits into the barracks. Although he had
+been sent to the convict prison as a smuggler, he was remarkably honest
+and good-tempered (I have spoken of him before); at the same time he was
+a dreadful coward, and feared the rod above all things. Of a peaceful,
+patient disposition, affable with everybody, he never got into quarrels;
+but he could never resist the temptation of bringing spirits in,
+notwithstanding his cowardice, and simply from his love of smuggling.
+Like all the other cooks he dealt in spirits, but on a much less
+extensive scale than Gazin, because he was afraid of running the same
+risks. I always lived on good terms with Osip. To have a separate table
+it was not necessary to be very rich; it cost me only one rouble a month
+apart from the bread, which was given to us. Sometimes when I was very
+hungry I made up my mind to eat the cabbage soup, in spite of the
+disgust with which it generally filled me. After a time this disgust
+entirely disappeared. I generally bought one pound of meat a day, which
+cost me two kopecks--[5 kopecks = 2 pence.]
+
+The old soldiers, who watched over the internal discipline of the
+barracks, were ready, good-naturedly, to go every day to the market to
+make purchases for the convicts. For this they received no pay, except
+from time to time a trifling present. They did it for the sake of their
+peace; their life in the convict prison would have been a perpetual
+torment had they refused. They used to bring in tobacco, tea,
+meat--everything, in short, that was desired, always excepting spirits.
+
+For many years Osip prepared for me every day a piece of roast meat. How
+he managed to get it cooked was a secret. What was strangest in the
+matter was, that during all this time I scarcely exchanged two words
+with him. I tried many times to make him talk, but he was incapable of
+keeping up a conversation. He would only smile and answer my questions
+by "yes" or "no." He was a Hercules, but he had no more intelligence
+than a child of seven.
+
+Suchiloff was also one of those who helped me. I had never asked him to
+do so, he attached himself to me on his own account, and I scarcely
+remember when he began to do so. His principal duty consisted in washing
+my linen. For this purpose there was a basin in the middle of the
+court-yard, round which the convicts washed their clothes in prison
+buckets.
+
+Suchiloff had found means for rendering me a number of little services.
+He boiled my tea-urn, ran right and left to perform various commissions
+for me, got me all kinds of things, mended my clothes, and greased my
+boots four times a month. He did all this in a zealous manner, with a
+business-like air, as if he felt all the weight of the duties he was
+performing. He seemed quite to have joined his fate to mine, and
+occupied himself with all my affairs. He never said: "You have so many
+shirts, or your waistcoat is torn;" but, "We have so many shirts, and
+our waistcoat is torn." I had somehow inspired him with admiration, and
+I really believe that I had become his sole care in life. As he knew no
+trade whatever his only source of income was from me, and it must be
+understood that I paid him very little; but he was always pleased,
+whatever he might receive. He would have been without means had he not
+been a servant of mine, and he gave me the preference because I was more
+affable than the others, and, above all, more equitable in money
+matters. He was one of those beings who never get rich, and never know
+how to manage their affairs; one of those in the prison who were hired
+by the gamblers to watch all night in the ante-chamber, listening for
+the least noise that might announce the arrival of the Major. If there
+was a night visit they received nothing, indeed their back paid for
+their want of attention. One thing which marks this kind of men is their
+entire absence of individuality, which they seem entirely to have lost.
+
+Suchiloff was a poor, meek fellow; all the courage seemed to have been
+beaten out of him, although he had in reality been born meek. For
+nothing in the world would he have raised his hand against any one in
+the prison. I always pitied him without knowing why. I could not look at
+him without feeling the deepest compassion for him. If asked to explain
+this, I should find it impossible to do so. I could never get him to
+talk, and he never became animated, except when, to put an end to all
+attempts at conversation, I gave him something to do, or told him to go
+somewhere for me. I soon found that he loved to be ordered about.
+Neither tall nor short, neither ugly nor handsome, neither stupid nor
+intelligent, neither old nor young, it would be difficult to describe in
+any definite manner this man, except that his face was slightly pitted
+with the small-pox, and that he had fair hair. He belonged, as far as I
+could make out, to the same company as Sirotkin. The prisoners sometimes
+laughed at him because he had "exchanged." During the march to Siberia
+he had exchanged for a red shirt and a silver rouble. It was thought
+comical that he should have sold himself for such a small sum, to take
+the name of another prisoner in place of his own, and consequently to
+accept the other's sentence. Strange as it may appear it was
+nevertheless true. This custom, which had become traditional, and still
+existed at the time I was sent to Siberia, I, at first, refused to
+believe, but found afterwards that it really existed. This is how the
+exchange was effected:
+
+A company of prisoners started for Siberia. Among them there are exiles
+of all kinds, some condemned to hard labour, others to labour in the
+mines, others to simple colonisation. On the way out, no matter at what
+stage of the journey, in the Government of Perm, for instance, a
+prisoner wishes to exchange with another man, who--we will say he is
+named Mikhailoff--has been condemned to hard labour for a capital
+offence, and does not like the prospect of passing long years without
+his liberty. He knows, in his cunning, what to do. He looks among his
+comrades for some simple, weak-minded fellow, whose punishment is less
+severe, who has been condemned to a few years in the mines, or to hard
+labour, or has perhaps been simply exiled. At last he finds such a man
+as Suchiloff, a former serf, sentenced only to become a colonist. The
+man has made fifteen hundred versts [about one thousand miles] without a
+kopeck, for the good reason that a Suchiloff is always without money;
+fatigued, exhausted, he can get nothing to eat beyond the fixed rations,
+nothing to wear in addition to the convict uniform.
+
+Mikhailoff gets into conversation with Suchiloff, they suit one another,
+and they strike up a friendship. At last at some station Mikhailoff
+makes his comrade drunk, then he will ask him if he will "exchange."
+
+"My name is Mikhailoff," he says to him, "condemned to what is called
+hard labour, but which, in my own case, will be nothing of the kind, as
+I am to enter a particular special section. I am classed with the
+hard-labour men, but in my special division the labour is not so
+severe."
+
+Before the special section was abolished, many persons in the official
+world, even at St. Petersburg, were unaware even of its existence. It
+was in such a retired corner of one of the most distant regions of
+Siberia, that it was difficult to know anything about it. It was
+insignificant, moreover, from the number of persons belonging to it. In
+my time they numbered altogether only seventy. I have since met men who
+have served in Siberia, and know the country well, and yet have never
+heard of the "special section." In the rules and regulations there are
+only six lines about this institution. Attached to the convict prison of
+---- is a special section reserved for the most dangerous criminals,
+while the severest labours are being prepared for them. The prisoners
+themselves knew nothing of this special section. Did it exist
+temporarily or constantly? Neither Suchiloff nor any of the prisoners
+being sent out, not Mikhailoff himself could guess the significance of
+those two words. Mikhailoff, however, had his suspicion as to the true
+character of this section. He formed his opinion from the gravity of the
+crime for which he was made to march three or four thousand versts on
+foot. It was certain that he was not being sent to a place where he
+would be at his ease. Suchiloff was to be a colonist. What could
+Mikhailoff desire better than that?
+
+"Won't you change?" he asks. Suchiloff is a little drunk, he is a
+simple-minded man, full of gratitude to the comrade who entertains him,
+and dare not refuse; he has heard, moreover, from other prisoners, that
+these exchanges are made, and understands, therefore, that there is
+nothing extraordinary, unheard-of, in the proposition made to him. An
+agreement is come to, the cunning Mikhailoff, profiting by Suchiloff's
+simplicity, buys his name for a red shirt, and a silver rouble, which
+are given before witnesses. The next day Suchiloff is sober; but more
+liquor is given to him. Then he drinks up his own rouble, and after a
+while the red shirt has the same fate.
+
+"If you don't like the bargain we made, give me back my money," says
+Mikhailoff. But where is Suchiloff to get a rouble? If he does not give
+it back, the "artel" [_i.e._, the association--in this case of convicts]
+will force him to keep his promise. The prisoners are very sensitive on
+such points: he must keep his promise. The "artel" requires it, and, in
+case of disobedience, woe to the offender! He will be killed, or at
+least seriously intimidated. If indeed the "artel" once showed mercy to
+the men who had broken their word, there would be an end to its
+existence. If the given word can be recalled, and the bargain put an end
+to after the stipulated sum has been paid, who would be bound by such an
+agreement? It is a question of life or death for the "artel."
+Accordingly the prisoners are very severe on the point.
+
+Suchiloff then finds that it is impossible to go back, that nothing can
+save him, and he accordingly agrees to all that is demanded of him. The
+bargain is then made known to all the convoy, and if denunciations are
+feared, the men looked upon as suspicious are entertained. What,
+moreover, does it matter to the others whether Mikhailoff or Suchiloff
+goes to the devil? They have had gratuitous drinks, they have been
+feasted for nothing, and the secret is kept by all.
+
+At the next station the names are called. When Mikhailoff's turn
+arrives, Suchiloff answers "present," Mikhailoff replies "present" for
+Suchiloff, and the journey is continued. The matter is not now even
+talked about. At Tobolsk the prisoners are told off. Mikhailoff will
+become a colonist, while Suchiloff is sent to the special section under
+a double escort. It would be useless now to cry out, to protest, for
+what proof could be given? How many years would it take to decide the
+affair, what benefit would the complainant derive? Where, moreover, are
+the witnesses? They would deny everything, even if they could be found.
+
+That is how Suchiloff, for a silver rouble and a red shirt, came to be
+sent to the special section. The prisoners laughed at him, not because
+he had exchanged--though in general they despised those who had been
+foolish enough to exchange a work that was easy for a work that was
+hard--but simply because he had received nothing for the bargain except
+a red shirt and a rouble--certainly a ridiculous compensation.
+
+Generally speaking, the exchanges are made for relatively large sums;
+several ten-rouble notes sometimes change hands. But Suchiloff was so
+characterless, so insignificant, so null, that he could scarcely even be
+laughed at. We lived a considerable time together, he and I; I had got
+accustomed to him, and he had formed an attachment for me. One day,
+however--I can never forgive myself for what I did--he had not executed
+my orders, and when he came to ask me for his money I had the cruelty to
+say to him, "You don't forget to ask for your money, but you don't do
+what you are told." Suchiloff remained silent and hastened to do as he
+was ordered, but he suddenly became very sad. Two days passed. I could
+not believe that what I had said to him could affect him so much. I knew
+that a person named Vassilieff was claiming from him in a morose manner
+payment of a small debt. Suchiloff was probably short of money, and did
+not dare to ask me for any.
+
+"Suchiloff, you wish, I think, to ask me for some money to pay
+Vassilieff; take this."
+
+I was seated on my camp-bedstead. Suchiloff remained standing up before
+me, much astonished that I myself should propose to give him money, and
+that I remembered his difficult position; the more so as latterly he had
+asked me several times for money in advance, and could scarcely hope
+that I should give him any more. He looked at the paper I held out to
+him, then looked at me, turned sharply on his heel and went out. I was
+as astonished as I could be. I went out after him, and found him at the
+back of the barracks. He was standing up with his face against the
+palisade and his arms resting on the stakes.
+
+"What is the matter, Suchiloff?" I asked him.
+
+He made no reply, and to my stupefaction I saw that he was on the point
+of bursting into tears.
+
+"You think, Alexander Petrovitch," he said, in a trembling voice, in
+endeavouring not to look at me, "that I care only for your money, but
+I----"
+
+He turned away from me, and struck the palisade with his forehead and
+began to sob. It was the first time in the convict prison that I had
+seen a man weep. I had much trouble in consoling him; and he afterwards
+served me, if possible, with more zeal than ever. He watched for my
+orders, but by almost imperceptible indications I could see that his
+heart would never forgive me for my reproach. Meanwhile other men
+laughed at him and teased him whenever the opportunity presented itself,
+and even insulted him without his losing his temper; on the contrary, he
+still remained on good terms with them. It is indeed difficult to know a
+man, even after having lived long years with him.
+
+The convict prison had not at first for me the significance it was
+afterwards to assume. I was at first, in spite of my attention, unable
+to understand many facts which were staring me in the face. I was
+naturally first struck by the most salient points, but I saw them from a
+false point of view, and the only impression they made upon me was one
+of unmitigated sadness. What contributed above all to this result was my
+meeting with A----f, the convict who had come to the prison before me,
+and who had astonished me in such a painful manner during the first few
+days. The effect of his baseness was to aggravate my moral suffering,
+already sufficiently cruel. He offered the most repulsive example of the
+kind of degradation and baseness to which a man may fall when all
+feeling of honour has perished within him. This young man of noble
+birth--I have spoken of him before--used to repeat to the Major all that
+was done in the barracks, and in doing so through the Major's
+body-servant Fedka. Here is the man's history.
+
+Arrived at St. Petersburg before he had finished his studies, after a
+quarrel with his parents, whom his life of debauchery had terrified, he
+had not shrunk for the sake of money from doing the work of an informer.
+He did not hesitate to sell the blood of ten men in order to satisfy his
+insatiable thirst for the grossest and most licentious pleasures. At
+last he became so completely perverted in the St. Petersburg taverns and
+houses of ill-fame, that he did not hesitate to take part in an affair
+which he knew to be conceived in madness--for he was not without
+intelligence. He was condemned to exile and ten years' hard labour in
+Siberia. One might have thought that such a frightful blow would have
+shocked him, that it would have caused some reaction and brought about a
+crisis; but he accepted his new fate without the least confusion. It did
+not frighten him; all that he feared in it was the necessity of working,
+and of giving up for ever his habits of debauchery. The name of convict
+had no effect but to prepare him for new acts of baseness, and more
+hideous villainies than any he had previously perpetrated.
+
+"I am now a convict, and can crawl at ease, without shame."
+
+That was the light in which he looked upon his new position. I think of
+this disgusting creature as of some monstrous phenomenon. During the
+many years I have lived in the midst of murderers, debauchees, and
+proved rascals, never in my life did I meet a case of such complete
+moral abasement, determined corruption, and shameless baseness. Among us
+there was a parricide of noble birth. I have already spoken of him; but
+I could see by several signs that he was much better and more humane
+than A----f. During the whole time of my punishment, he was never
+anything more in my eyes than a piece of flesh furnished with teeth and
+a stomach, greedy for the most offensive and ferocious animal
+enjoyments, for the satisfaction of which he was ready to assassinate
+anyone. I do not exaggerate in the least; I recognised in A----f one of
+the most perfect specimens of animality, restrained by no principles, no
+rule. How much I was disgusted by his eternal smile! He was a monster--a
+moral Quasimodo. He was at the same time intelligent, cunning,
+good-looking, had received some education, and possessed a certain
+capacity. Fire, plague, famine, no matter what scourge, is preferable to
+the presence of such a man in human society. I have already said that in
+the convict prison espionage and denunciation flourished as the natural
+product of degradation, without the convicts thinking much of it. On the
+contrary, they maintained friendly relations with A----f. They were more
+affable with him than with any one else. The kindly attitude towards him
+of our drunken friend, the Major, gave him a certain importance, and
+even a certain worth in the eyes of the convicts. Later on, this
+cowardly wretch ran away with another convict and the soldier in charge
+of them; but of this I shall speak in proper time and place. At first,
+he hung about me, thinking I did not know his history. I repeat that he
+poisoned the first days of my imprisonment so as to drive me nearly to
+despair. I was terrified by the mass of baseness and cowardice in the
+midst of which I had been thrown. I imagined that every one else was as
+foul and cowardly as he. But I made a mistake in supposing that every
+one resembled A----f.
+
+During the first three days I did nothing but wander about the convict
+prison, when I did not remain stretched out on my camp-bedstead. I
+entrusted to a prisoner of whom I was sure, the piece of linen which had
+been delivered to me by the administration, in order that he might make
+me some shirts. Always on the advice of Akim Akimitch, I got myself a
+folding mattress. It was in felt, covered with linen, as thin as a
+pancake, and very hard to any one who was not accustomed to it. Akim
+Akimitch promised to get me all the most essential things, and with his
+own hands made me a blanket out of a piece of old cloth, cut and sewn
+together from all the old trousers and waistcoats which I had bought
+from various prisoners. The clothes delivered to them, when they have
+been worn the regulation time, become the property of the prisoners.
+They at once sell them, for however much worn an article of clothing may
+be, it always possesses a certain value. I was very much astonished by
+all this, above all at the outset, during my first relations with this
+world. I became as low as my companions, as much a convict as they.
+Their customs, their habits, their ideas influenced me thoroughly, and
+externally became my own, without affecting my inner self. I was
+astonished and confused as though I had never heard or suspected
+anything of the kind before, and yet I knew what to expect, or at least
+what had been told me. The thing itself, however, produced on me a
+different impression from the mere description of it. How could I
+suppose, for instance, that old rags possessed still some value? And,
+nevertheless, my blanket was made up entirely of tatters. It would be
+difficult to describe the cloth out of which the clothes of the convicts
+were made. It was like the thick, gray cloth manufactured for the
+soldiers, but as soon as it had been worn some little time it showed the
+threads and tore with abominable ease. The uniform ought to have lasted
+for a whole year, but it never went so long as that. The prisoner
+labours, carries heavy burdens, and the cloth naturally wears out, and
+gets into holes very quickly. Our sheepskins were intended to be worn
+for three years. During the whole of that time they served as outer
+garments, blankets, and pillows, but they were very solid. Nevertheless,
+at the end of the third year, it was not rare to see them mended with
+ordinary linen. Although they were now very much worn, it was always
+possible to sell them at the rate of forty kopecks a piece, the best
+preserved ones even at the price of sixty kopecks, which was a great sum
+for the convict prison.
+
+Money, as I have before said, has a sovereign value in such a place. It
+is certain that a prisoner who has some pecuniary resources suffers ten
+times less than the one who has nothing.
+
+"When the Government supplies all the wants of the convict, what need
+can he have for money?" reasoned our chief.
+
+Nevertheless, I repeat that if the prisoners had been deprived of the
+opportunity of possessing something of their own, they would have lost
+their reason, or would have died like flies. They would have committed
+unheard-of crimes; some from wearisomeness or grief, the others, in
+order to get sooner punished, and, according to their expression, "have
+a change." If the convict who has gained some kopecks by the sweat of
+his brow, who has embarked in perilous undertakings in order to conquer
+them, if he spends this money recklessly, with childish stupidity, that
+does not the least in the world prove that he does not know its value,
+as might at first sight be thought. The convict is greedy for money, to
+the point of losing his reason, and, if he throws it away, he does so in
+order to procure what he places far above money--liberty, or at least a
+semblance of liberty.
+
+Convicts are great dreamers; I will speak of that further on with more
+detail. At present I will confine myself to saying that I have heard
+men, who had been condemned to twenty years' hard labour, say, with a
+quiet air, "when I have finished my time, if God wishes, then----" The
+very words hard labour, or forced labour, indicate that the man has lost
+his freedom; and when this man spends his money he is carrying out his
+own will.
+
+In spite of the branding and the chains, in spite of the palisade which
+hides from his eyes the free world, and encloses him in a cage like a
+wild beast, he can get himself spirits and other delights; sometimes
+even (not always), corrupt his immediate superintendents, the old
+soldiers and non-commissioned officers, and get them to close their eyes
+to his infractions of discipline within the prison. He can,
+moreover--what he adores--swagger; that is to say, impress his
+companions and persuade himself for a time, that he enjoys more liberty
+than he really possesses. The poor devil wishes, in a word, to convince
+himself of what he knows to be impossible. This is why the prisoners
+take such pleasure in boasting and exaggerating in burlesque fashion
+their own unhappy personality.
+
+Finally, they run some risk when they give themselves up to this
+boasting; in which again they find a semblance of life and liberty--the
+only thing they care for. Would not a millionaire with a rope round his
+neck give all his millions for one breath of air? A prisoner has lived
+quietly for several years in succession, his conduct has been so
+exemplary that he has been rewarded by special exemptions. Suddenly, to
+the great astonishment of his chiefs, this man becomes mutinous, plays
+the very devil, and does not recoil from a capital crime such as
+assassination, violation, etc. Every one is astounded at the cause of
+this unexpected explosion on the part of a man thought incapable of such
+a thing. It is the convulsive manifestation of his personality, an
+instinctive melancholia, an uncontrollable desire for self-assertion,
+all of which obscures his reason. It is a sort of epileptic attack, a
+spasm. A man buried alive who suddenly wakes up must strike in a similar
+manner against the lid of his coffin. He tries to rise up, to push it
+from him, although his reason must convince him of the uselessness of
+his efforts.
+
+Reason, however, has nothing to do with this convulsion. It must not be
+forgotten that almost every voluntary manifestation on the part of a
+convict is looked upon as a crime. Accordingly, it is a perfect matter
+of indifference to them whether this manifestation be important or
+insignificant, debauch for debauch, danger for danger. It is just as
+well to go to the end, even as far as a murder. The only difficulty is
+the first step. Little by little the man becomes excited, intoxicated,
+and can no longer contain himself. For that reason it would be better
+not to drive him to extremities. Everybody would be much better for it.
+
+But how can this be managed?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE FIRST MONTH (_continued_)
+
+
+When I entered the convict prison I possessed a small sum of money; but
+I carried very little of it about with me, lest it should be
+confiscated. I had gummed some banknotes into the binding of my New
+Testament--the only book authorised in the convict prison. This New
+Testament had been given to me at Tobolsk, by a person who had been
+exiled some dozens of years, and who had got accustomed to see in other
+"unfortunates" a brother.
+
+There are in Siberia people who pass their lives in giving brotherly
+assistance to the "unfortunates." They feel the same sympathy for them
+that they would have for their own children. Their compassion is
+something sacred and quite disinterested. I cannot help here relating in
+some words a meeting which I had at this time.
+
+In the town where we were then imprisoned lived a widow, Nastasia
+Ivanovna. Naturally, none of us were in direct relations with this
+woman. She had made it the object of her life to come to the assistance
+of all the exiles; but, above all, of us convicts. Had there been some
+misfortune in her family? Had some person dear to her undergone a
+punishment similar to ours? I do not know. In any case, she did for us
+whatever she could. It is true she could do very little, for she was
+very poor. But we felt when we were shut up in the convict prison that,
+outside, we had a devoted friend. She often brought us news, which we
+were very glad to hear, for nothing of the kind reached us.
+
+When I left the prison to be taken to another town, I had the
+opportunity of calling upon her and making her acquaintance. She lived
+in one of the suburbs, at the house of a near relation.
+
+Nastasia Ivanovna was neither old nor young, neither pretty nor ugly. It
+was difficult, impossible even, to know whether she was intelligent and
+well-bred. But in her actions could be seen infinite compassion, an
+irresistible desire to please, to solace, to be in some way agreeable.
+All this could be read in the sweetness of her smile.
+
+I passed an entire evening at her house, with other companions of my
+imprisonment. She looked us straight in the face, laughed when we
+laughed, did everything we asked her, in conversation was always of our
+opinion, and did her best in every way to entertain us. She gave us tea
+and various little delicacies. If she had been rich we felt sure she
+would have been pleased, if only to be able to entertain us better and
+offer for us some solid consolation.
+
+When we wished her "good-bye," she gave us each a present of a cardboard
+cigar-case as a souvenir. She had made them herself--Heaven knows
+how--with coloured paper, the paper with which school-boys' copy-books
+are covered. All round this cardboard cigar-case she had gummed, by way
+of ornamentation, a thin edge of gilt paper.
+
+"As you smoke, these cigar-cases will perhaps be of use to you," she
+said, as if excusing herself for making such a present.
+
+There are people who say, as I have read and heard, that a great love
+for one's neighbour is only a form of selfishness. What selfishness
+could there be in this? That I could never understand.
+
+Although I had not much money when I entered the convict prison, I could
+not nevertheless feel seriously annoyed with convicts who, immediately
+on my arrival, after having deceived me once, came to borrow of me a
+second, a third time, and even oftener. But I admitted frankly that what
+did annoy me was the thought that all these people, with their smiling
+knavery, must take me for a fool, and laugh at me just because I lent
+the money for the fifth time. It must have seemed to them that I was the
+dupe of their tricks and their deceit. If, on the contrary, I had
+refused them and sent them away, I am certain that they would have had
+much more respect for me. Still, though it vexed me very much, I could
+not refuse them.
+
+I was rather anxious during the first days to know what footing I should
+hold in the convict prison, and what rule of conduct I should follow
+with my companions. I felt and perfectly understood that the place being
+in every way new to me, I was walking in darkness, and it would be
+impossible for me to live for ten years in darkness. I decided to act
+frankly, according to the dictates of my conscience and my personal
+feeling. But I also knew that this decision might be very well in
+theory, and that I should, in practice, be governed by unforeseen
+events. Accordingly, in addition to all the petty annoyances caused to
+me by my confinement in the convict prison, one terrible anguish laid
+hold of me and tormented me more and more.
+
+"The dead-house!" I said to myself when night fell, and I looked from
+the threshold of our barracks at the prisoners just returned from their
+labours and walking about in the court-yard, from the kitchen to the
+barracks, and _vice vers�_. As I examined their movements and their
+physiognomies I endeavoured to guess what sort of men they were, and
+what their disposition might be.
+
+They lounged about in front of me, some with lowered brows, others full
+of gaiety--one of these expressions was seen on every convict's
+face--exchanged insults or talked on indifferent matters. Sometimes,
+too, they wandered about in solitude, occupied apparently with their own
+reflections; some of them with a worn-out, pathetic look, others with a
+conceited air of superiority. Yes, here, even here!--their cap balanced
+on the side of their head, their sheepskin coat picturesquely over the
+shoulder, insolence in their eyes and mockery on their lips.
+
+"Here is the world to which I am condemned, in which, in spite of
+myself, I must somehow live," I said to myself.
+
+I endeavoured to question Akim Akimitch, with whom I liked to take my
+tea, in order not to be alone, for I wanted to know something about the
+different convicts. In parenthesis I must say that the tea, at the
+beginning of my imprisonment, was almost my only food. Akim Akimitch
+never refused to take tea with me, and he himself heated our tin
+tea-urns, made in the convict prison and let out to me by M----.
+
+Akim Akimitch generally drank a glass of tea (he had glasses of his own)
+calmly and silently, then thanked me when he had finished, and at once
+went to work on my blanket; but he had not been able to tell me what I
+wanted to know, and did not even understand my desire to know the
+dispositions of the people surrounding me. He listened to me with a
+cunning smile which I have still before my eyes. No, I thought, I must
+find out for myself; it is useless to interrogate others.
+
+The fourth day, the convicts were drawn up in two ranks, early in the
+morning, in the court-yard before the guard-house, close to the prison
+gates. Before and behind them were soldiers with loaded muskets and
+fixed bayonets.
+
+The soldier has the right to fire on the convict if he tries to escape.
+But, on the other hand, he is answerable for his shot, if there was no
+absolute necessity for him to fire. The same thing applies to revolts.
+But who would think of openly taking to flight?
+
+The Engineer officer arrived accompanied by the so-called "conductor"
+and by some non-commissioned officers of the Line, together with sappers
+and soldiers told off to superintend the labours of the convicts.
+
+The roll was called. Then the convicts who were going to the tailors'
+workshop started first. These men worked inside the prison, and made
+clothes for all the inmates. The other exiles went into the outer
+workshops, until at last arrived the turn of the prisoners destined for
+field labour. I was of this number--there were altogether twenty of us.
+Behind the fortress on the frozen river were two barges belonging to the
+Government, which were not worth anything, but which had to be taken to
+pieces in order that the wood might not be lost. The wood was in itself
+all but valueless, for firewood can be bought in the town at a nominal
+price. The whole country is covered with forests.
+
+This work was given to us in order that we might not remain with our
+arms crossed. This was understood on both sides. Accordingly, we went to
+it apathetically; though just the contrary happened when work had to be
+done, which would be profitable, or when a fixed task was assigned to
+us. In this latter case, although prisoners were to derive no profit
+from their work, they tried to get it over as soon as possible, and took
+a pride in doing it quickly. When such work as I am speaking of had to
+be done as a matter of form, rather than because it was necessary, task
+work could not be asked for. We had to go on until the beating of the
+drum at eleven o'clock called back the convicts.
+
+The day was warm and foggy, the snow was on the point of melting. Our
+entire band walked towards the bank behind the fortress, shaking lightly
+their chains hid beneath their garments: the sound came forth clear and
+ringing. Two or three convicts went to get their tools from the d�p�t.
+
+I walked on with the others. I had become a little animated, for I
+wanted to see and know in what this field labour consisted, to what sort
+of work I was condemned, and how I should do it for the first time in my
+life.
+
+I remember the smallest particulars. We met, as we were walking along, a
+townsman with a long beard, who stopped and slipped his hand into his
+pocket. A prisoner left our party, took off his cap and received
+alms--to the extent of five kopecks--then came back hurriedly towards
+us. The townsman made the sign of the cross and went his way. The five
+kopecks were spent the same morning in buying cakes of white bread
+which were shared equally among us. In my squad some were gloomy and
+taciturn, others indifferent and indolent. There were some who talked in
+an idle manner. One of these men was extremely gay, heaven knows why. He
+sang and danced as we went along, shaking and ringing his chains at each
+step. This fat and corpulent convict was the very one who, on the very
+day of my arrival during the general washing, had a quarrel with one of
+his companions about the water, and had ventured to compare him to some
+sort of bird. His name was Scuratoff. He finished by shouting out a
+lively song of which I remember the burden:
+
+
+     They married me without my consent,
+     When I was at the mill.
+
+
+Nothing was wanting but a balalaika [the Russian banjo].
+
+His extraordinary good-humour was justly reproved by several of the
+prisoners, who were offended by it.
+
+"Listen to his hallooing," said one of the convicts, "though it doesn't
+become him."
+
+"The wolf has but one song; this Tuliak [inhabitant of Tula] is stealing
+it from him," said another, who could be recognised by his accent as a
+Little Russian.
+
+"Of course I am from Tula," replied Scuratoff; "but we don't stuff
+ourselves to bursting as you do in your Pultava."
+
+"Liar! what did you eat yourself? Bark shoes and cabbage soup?"
+
+"You talk as if the devil fed you on sweet almonds," broke in a third.
+
+"I admit, my friend, that I am an effeminate man," said Scuratoff with a
+gentle sigh, as though he were really reproaching himself for his
+effeminacy. "From my most tender infancy I was brought up in luxury, fed
+on plums and delicate cakes. My brothers even now have a large business
+at Moscow. They are wholesale dealers in the wind that blows; immensely
+rich men, as you may imagine."
+
+"And what did you sell?"
+
+"I was very successful, and when I received my first two hundred----"
+
+"Roubles? impossible!" interrupted one of the prisoners, struck with
+amazement at hearing of so large a sum.
+
+"No, my good fellow, not two hundred roubles, two hundred blows of the
+stick. Luka; I say Luka!"
+
+"Some have the right to call me Luka, but for you I am Luka Kouzmitch,"
+replied rather ill-temperedly a small, feeble convict with a pointed
+nose.
+
+"The devil take you, you are really not worth speaking to; yet I wanted
+to be civil to you. But to continue my story; this is how it happened
+that I did not remain any longer at Moscow. I received my fifteen last
+strokes and was then sent off, and was at----"
+
+"But what were you sent for?" asked a convict who had been listening
+attentively.
+
+"Don't ask stupid questions. I was explaining to you how it was I did
+not make my fortune at Moscow; and yet how anxious I was to be rich, you
+could scarcely imagine how much."
+
+Many of the prisoners began to laugh. Scuratoff was one of those lively
+persons, full of animal spirits, who take a pleasure in amusing their
+graver companions, and who, as a matter of course, received no reward
+except insults. He belonged to a type of men, to whose characteristics I
+shall, perhaps, have to return.
+
+"And what a fellow he is now!" observed Luka Kouzmitch. "His clothes
+alone must be worth a hundred roubles."
+
+Scuratoff had the oldest and greasiest sheepskin that could be seen. It
+was mended in many different places with pieces that scarcely hung
+together. He looked at Luka attentively from head to foot.
+
+"It is my head, friend," he said, "my head that is worth money. When I
+took farewell of Moscow, I was half consoled, because my head was to
+make the journey on my shoulders. Farewell, Moscow, I shall never
+forget your free air, nor the tremendous flogging I got. As for my
+sheepskin, you are not obliged to look at it."
+
+"You would like me, perhaps, to look at your head?"
+
+"If it was really his own natural property, but it was given him in
+charity," cried Luka Kouzmitch. "It was a gift made to him at Tumen,
+when the convoy was passing through the town."
+
+"Scuratoff, had you a workshop?"
+
+"What workshop could he have? He was only a cobbler," said one of the
+convicts.
+
+"It is true," said Scuratoff, without noticing the caustic tone of the
+speaker. "I tried to mend boots, but I never got beyond a single pair."
+
+"And were you paid for them?"
+
+"Well, I found a fellow who certainly neither feared God nor honoured
+either his father or his mother, and as a punishment, Providence made
+him buy the work of my hands."
+
+The men around Scuratoff burst into a laugh.
+
+"I also worked once at the convict prison," continued Scuratoff, with
+imperturbable coolness. "I did up the boots of Stepan Fedoritch, the
+lieutenant."
+
+"And was he satisfied?"
+
+"No, my dear fellows, indeed he was not; he blackguarded me enough to
+last me for the rest of my life. He also pushed me from behind with his
+knee. What a rage he was in! Ah! my life has deceived me. I see no fun
+in the convict prison whatever." He began to sing again.
+
+
+     Akolina's husband is in the court-yard.
+       There he waits.
+
+
+Again he sang, and again he danced and leaped.
+
+"Most unbecoming!" murmured the Little Russian, who was walking by my
+side.
+
+"Frivolous man!" said another in a serious, decided tone.
+
+I could not make out why they insulted Scuratoff, nor why they despised
+those convicts who were light-hearted, as they seemed to do. I
+attributed the anger of the Little Russian and the others to a feeling
+of personal hostility, but in this I was wrong. They were vexed that
+Scuratoff had not that puffed-up air of false dignity with which the
+whole of the convict prison was impregnated.
+
+They did not, however, get annoyed with all the jokers, nor treat them
+all like Scuratoff. Some of them were men who would stand no nonsense,
+and forgive no one voluntarily or involuntarily. It was necessary to
+treat them with respect. There was in our band a convict of this very
+kind, a good-natured, lively fellow, whom I did not see in his true
+light until later on. He was a tall young fellow, with pleasant manners,
+and not without good looks. There was at the same time a very comic
+expression on his face.
+
+He was called the Sapper, because he had served in the Engineers. He
+belonged to the special section.
+
+But all the serious-minded convicts were not so particular as the Little
+Russian, who could not bear to see people gay.
+
+We had in our prison several men who aimed at a certain pre-eminence,
+either in virtue of skill at their work, of their general ingenuity, of
+their character, or their wit. Many of them were intelligent and
+energetic, and reached the point they were aiming at--pre-eminence, that
+is to say, and moral influence over their companions. They often hated
+one another, and they excited general envy. They looked upon other
+convicts with a dignified air, that was full of condescension; and they
+never quarrelled without a cause. Favourably looked upon by the
+administration, they in some measure directed the work, and none of them
+would have lowered himself so far as to quarrel with a man about his
+songs. All these men were very polite to me during the whole time of my
+imprisonment, but not at all communicative.
+
+At last we reached the bank; a little lower down was the old hulk, which
+we were to break up, stuck fast in the ice. On the other side of the
+water was the blue steppe and the sad horizon. I expected to see every
+one go to work at once. Nothing of the kind. Some of the convicts sat
+down negligently on wooden beams that were lying near the shore, and
+nearly all took from their pockets pouches containing native
+tobacco--which was sold in leaf at the market at the rate of three
+kopecks a pound--and short wooden pipes. They lighted them while the
+soldiers formed a circle around them, and began to watch us with a tired
+look.
+
+"Who the devil had the idea of sinking this barque?" asked one of the
+convicts in a loud voice, without speaking to any one in particular.
+
+"Were they very anxious, then, to have it broken up?"
+
+"The people were not afraid to give us work," said another.
+
+"Where are all those peasants going to work?" said the first, after a
+short silence.
+
+He had not even heard his companion's answer. He pointed with his finger
+to the distance, where a troop of peasants were marching in file across
+the virgin snow.
+
+All the convicts turned negligently towards this side, and began from
+mere idleness to laugh at the peasants as they approached them. One of
+them, the last of the line, walked very comically with his arms apart,
+and his head on one side. He wore a tall pointed cap. His shadow threw
+itself in clear lines on the white snow.
+
+"Look how our brother Petrovitch is dressed," said one of my companions,
+imitating the pronunciation of the peasants of the locality. One amusing
+thing--the convicts looked down on peasants, although they were for the
+most part peasants by origin.
+
+"The last one, too, above all, looks as if he were planting radishes."
+
+"He is an important personage, he has lots of money," said a third.
+
+They all began to laugh without, however, seeming genuinely amused.
+
+During this time a woman selling cakes came up. She was a brisk, lively
+person, and it was with her that the five kopecks given by the townsman
+were spent.
+
+The young fellow who sold white bread in the convict prison took two
+dozen of her cakes, and had a long discussion with the woman in order to
+get a reduction in price. She would not, however, agree to his terms.
+
+At last the non-commissioned officer appointed to superintend the work
+came up with a cane in his hand.
+
+"What are you sitting down for? Begin at once."
+
+"Give us our tasks, Ivan Matveitch," said one of the "foremen" among us,
+as he slowly got up.
+
+"What more do you want? Take out the barque, that is your task."
+
+Then ultimately the convicts got up and went to the river, but very
+slowly. Different "directors" appeared, "directors," at least, in words.
+The barque was not to be broken up anyhow. The latitudinal and
+longitudinal beams were to be preserved, and this was not an easy thing
+to manage.
+
+"Draw this beam out, that is the first thing to do," cried a convict who
+was neither a director nor a foreman, but a simple workman. This man,
+very quiet and a little stupid, had not previously spoken. He now bent
+down, took hold of a heavy beam with both hands, and waited for some one
+to help him. No one, however, seemed inclined to do so.
+
+"Not you, indeed, you will never manage it; not even your grandfather,
+the bear, could do it," muttered some one between his teeth.
+
+"Well, my friend, are we to begin? As for me, I can do nothing alone,"
+said, with a morose air, the man who had put himself forward, and who
+now, quitting the beam, held himself upright.
+
+"Unless you are going to do all the work by yourself, what are you in
+such a hurry about?"
+
+"I was only speaking," said the poor fellow, excusing himself for his
+forwardness.
+
+"Must you have blankets to keep yourselves warm, or are you to be
+heated for the winter?" cried a non-commissioned officer to the twenty
+men who seemed to loathe to begin work. "Go on at once."
+
+"It is never any use being in a hurry, Ivan Matveitch."
+
+"But you are doing nothing at all, Savelieff. What are you casting your
+eyes about for? Are they for sale, by chance? Come, go on."
+
+"What can I do alone?"
+
+"Set us tasks, Ivan Matveitch."
+
+"I told you before that I had no task to give you. Attack the barque,
+and when you have finished we will go back to the house. Come, begin."
+
+The prisoners began work, but with no good-will, and very indolently.
+The irritation of the chief at seeing these vigorous men remain so idle
+was intelligible enough. While the first rivet was being removed it
+suddenly snapped.
+
+"It broke to pieces," said the convict in self-justification. It was
+impossible, then, they suggested, to work in such a manner. What was to
+be done? A long discussion took place between the prisoners, and little
+by little they came to insults; nor did this seem likely to be the end
+of it. The under officer cried out again as he agitated his stick, but
+the second rivet snapped like the first. It was then agreed that
+hatchets were of no use, and that other tools must be procured.
+Accordingly, two prisoners were sent under escort to the fortress to get
+the proper instruments. Waiting their return, the other convicts sat
+down on the bank as calmly as possible, pulled out their pipes and began
+again to smoke. Finally, the under officer spat with contempt.
+
+"Well," he exclaimed, "the work you are doing will not kill you. Oh,
+what people, what people!" he grumbled, with an ill-natured air. He then
+made a gesture, and went away to the fortress, brandishing his cane.
+
+After an hour the "conductor" arrived. He listened quietly to what the
+convicts had to say, declared that the task he gave them was to get off
+four rivets unbroken, and to demolish a good part of the barque. As
+soon as this was done the prisoners could go back to the house. The task
+was a considerable one, but, good heavens! how the convicts now went to
+work! Where now was their idleness, their want of skill? The hatchets
+soon began to dance, and soon the rivets were sprung. Those who had no
+hatchets made use of thick sticks to push beneath the rivets, and thus
+in due time and in artistic fashion, they got them out. The convicts
+seemed suddenly to have become intelligent in their conversation. No
+more insults were heard. Every one knew perfectly what to say, to do, to
+advise. Just half-an-hour before the beating of the drum, the appointed
+task was executed, and the prisoners returned to the convict prison
+fatigued, but pleased to have gained half-an-hour from the working time
+fixed by the regulations.
+
+As regards myself, I have only one thing to say. Wherever I stood to
+help the workers I was never in my place; they always drove me away, and
+generally insulted me. Any one of the ragged lot, any miserable workman
+who would not have dared to say a syllable to the other convicts, all
+more intelligent and skilful than he, assumed the right of swearing at
+me if I went near him, under pretext that I interfered with him in his
+work. At last one of the best of them said to me frankly, but coarsely:
+
+"What do you want here? Be off with you! Why do you come when no one
+calls you?"
+
+"That is it," added another.
+
+"You would do better to take a pitcher," said a third, "and carry water
+to the house that is being built, or go to the tobacco factory. You are
+no good here."
+
+I was obliged to keep apart. To remain idle while others were working
+seemed a shame; but when I went to the other end of the barque I was
+insulted anew.
+
+"What men we have to work!" was the cry. "What can be done with fellows
+of this kind?"
+
+All this was said spitefully. They were pleased to have the opportunity
+of laughing at a gentleman.
+
+It will now be understood that my first thought on entering the convict
+prison was to ask myself how I should ever get on with such people. I
+foresaw that such incidents would often be repeated; but I resolved not
+to change my conduct in any way, whatever might be the result. I had
+decided to live simply and intelligently, without manifesting the least
+desire to approach my companions; but also without repelling them, if
+they themselves desired to approach me; in no way to fear their threats
+or their hatred; and to pretend as much as possible not to be affected
+by them. Such was my plan. I saw from the first that they would despise
+me, if I adopted any other course.
+
+When I returned in the evening to the convict prison, having finished my
+afternoon's work, fatigued and harassed, a deep sadness took possession
+of me. "How many thousands of days have I to pass like this one?" Always
+the same thought. I walked about alone and meditated as night fell,
+when, suddenly, near the palisade behind the barracks, I saw my friend,
+Bull, who ran towards me.
+
+Bull was the dog of the prison; for the prison has its dog as companies
+of infantry, batteries of artillery, and squadrons of cavalry have
+theirs. He had been there for a long time, belonged to no one, looked
+upon every one as his master, and lived on the remains from the kitchen.
+He was a good-sized black dog, spotted with white, not very old, with
+intelligent eyes, and a bushy tail. No one caressed him or paid the
+least attention to him. As soon as I arrived I made friends with him by
+giving him a piece of bread. When I patted him on the back he remained
+motionless, looked at me with a pleased expression, and gently wagged
+his tail.
+
+That evening, not having seen me the whole day--me, the first person who
+in so many years had thought of caressing him--he ran towards me,
+leaping and barking. It had such an effect on me that I could not help
+embracing him. I placed his head against my body. He placed his paws on
+my shoulders and looked me in the face.
+
+"Here is a friend sent to me by destiny," I said to myself, and during
+the first weeks, so full of pain, every time that I came back from work
+I hastened, before doing anything else, to go to the back of the
+barracks with Bull, who leaped with joy before me. I took his head in my
+hands and kissed it. At the same time a troubled, bitter feeling pressed
+my heart. I well remember thinking--and taking pleasure in the
+thought--that this was my one, my only friend in the world--my faithful
+dog, Bull.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+NEW ACQUAINTANCES--PETROFF
+
+
+Time went on, and little by little I accustomed myself to my new life.
+The scenes I had daily before me no longer afflicted me so much. In a
+word, the convict prison, its inhabitants, and its manners, left me
+indifferent. To get reconciled to this life was impossible, but I had to
+accept it as an inevitable fact. I had driven entirely away from me all
+the anxiety by which I had at first been troubled. I no longer wandered
+through the convict prison like a lost soul, and no longer allowed
+myself to be subjugated by my anxiety. The wild curiosity of the
+convicts had had its edge taken off, and I was no longer looked upon
+with that affectation or insolence previously displayed. They had become
+indifferent to me, and I was very glad of it. I began to feel at home in
+the barracks. I knew where to go and sleep at night; gradually I became
+accustomed to things the very idea of which would formerly have been
+repugnant to me. I went every week regularly to have my head shaved. We
+were called every Saturday one after another to the guard-house. The
+regimental barbers lathered our skulls with cold water and soap, and
+scraped us afterwards with their saw-like razors.
+
+Merely the thought of this torture gives me a shudder. I soon found a
+remedy for it--Akim Akimitch pointed it out to me--a prisoner in the
+military section who for one kopeck shaved those who paid for it with
+his own razor. This was his trade. Many of the prisoners were his
+customers merely to avoid the military barbers, yet these were not men
+of weak nerves. Our barber was called the "major," why, I cannot say. As
+far as I know he possessed no points of resemblance with any major. As I
+write these lines I see clearly before me the "major" and his thin face.
+He was a tall fellow, silent, rather stupid, absorbed entirely by his
+business; he was never to be seen without a strop in his hand, on which
+day and night he sharpened a razor, which was always in admirable
+condition. He had certainly made this work the supreme object of his
+life; he was really happy when his razor was quite sharp and his
+services were in request; his soap was always warm, and he had a very
+light hand--a hand of velvet. He was proud of his skill, and used to
+take with a careless air the kopeck he received; one might have thought
+that he worked from love of his art, and not in order to gain money.
+
+A----f was soundly corrected by our real Major one day, because he had
+the misfortune to say the "major" when he was speaking of the barber who
+shaved him. The real Major was in a violent rage.
+
+"Blackguard," he cried, "do you know what a major is?" and according to
+his habit he shook A----f violently. "The idea of calling a scoundrel of
+a convict a 'major' in my presence."
+
+From the first day of my imprisonment I began to dream of my liberation.
+My favourite occupation was to count thousands and thousands of times in
+a thousand different manners the number of days that I should have to
+pass in prison. I thought of that only, and every one deprived of his
+liberty for a fixed time does the same; of that I am certain. I cannot
+say that all the convicts had the same degree of hopefulness, but their
+sanguine character often astonished me. The hopefulness of a prisoner
+differs essentially from that of a free man. The latter may desire an
+amelioration in his position, or a realisation of some enterprise which
+he has undertaken, but meanwhile he lives, he acts; he is swept away in
+the whirlwind of real life. Nothing of the kind takes place in the case
+of the convict for life. He lives also in a way, but not being condemned
+to a fixed number of years, he takes a vaguer view of his situation than
+the one who is imprisoned for a definite term. The man condemned for a
+comparatively short period feels that he is not at home; he looks upon
+himself, so to say, as on a visit; he regards the twenty years of his
+punishment as two years at most; he is sure that at fifty, when he has
+finished his sentence, he will be as young and as lively as at
+thirty-five. "We have time before us," he thinks, and he strives
+obstinately to dispel discouraging thoughts. Even a man sentenced for
+life thinks that some day an order may arrive from St.
+Petersburg--"Transport such a one to the mines at Nertchinsk and fix a
+term for his detention." It would be famous, first because it takes six
+months to get to Nertchinsk, and the life on the road is a hundred times
+preferable to the convict prison. He would finish his time at
+Nertchinsk, and then--more than one gray-haired old man speculates in
+this way.
+
+At Tobolsk I have seen men fastened to the wall by a chain about two
+yards long; by their side they have their bed. They are thus chained for
+some terrible crime committed after their transportation to Siberia;
+they are kept chained up for five, ten years. They are nearly all
+brigands, and I only saw one of them who looked like a man of good
+breeding; he had been in some branch of the Civil Service, and spoke in
+a soft, lisping way; his smile was sweet but sickly; he showed us his
+chain, and pointed out to us the most convenient way of lying down. He
+must have been a nice person! All these poor wretches are perfectly
+well-behaved; they all seem satisfied, and yet their desire to finish
+their period of chains devours them. Why? it will be asked. Because then
+they will leave their low, damp, stifling cells for the court-yard of
+the convict prison, that is all. These last places of confinement they
+will never leave; they know that those who have once been chained up
+will never be liberated, and they will die in irons. They know all this,
+and yet they are very anxious to be no longer chained up. Without this
+hope could they remain five or six years fastened to a wall, and not die
+or go mad?
+
+I soon understood that work alone could save me, by fortifying my health
+and my body, whereas incessant restlessness of mind, nervous irritation,
+and the close air of the barracks would ruin them completely. I should
+go out vigorous and full of elasticity. I did not deceive myself, work
+and movement were very useful to me.
+
+I saw one of my comrades, to my terror, melt away like a piece of wax;
+and yet, when he was with me in the convict prison, he was young,
+handsome, and vigorous; when he left his health was ruined, and his legs
+could no longer support him. His chest, too, was oppressed by asthma.
+
+"No," I said to myself, as I gazed upon him; "I wish to live, and I will
+live."
+
+My love for work exposed me in the first place to the contempt and
+bitter laughter of my comrades; but I paid no attention to them, and
+went away with a light heart wherever I was sent. Sometimes, for
+instance, to break and pound alabaster. This work, the first that was
+given to me, is easy. The engineers did their utmost to lighten the
+task-work of all the gentlemen; this was not indulgence, but simple
+justice. Would it not have been strange to require the same work from a
+labourer as from a man whose strength was less by half, and who had
+never worked with his hands? But we were not "spoilt" in this way for
+ever, and we were only spared in secret, for we were severely watched.
+As real severe work was by no means rare, it often happened that the
+task given to us was beyond the strength of the gentlemen, who thus
+suffered twice as much as their comrades.
+
+Generally three or four men were sent to pound the alabaster, and
+nearly always old men or feeble ones were chosen. We were of the latter
+class. A man skilled in this particular kind of work was sent with us.
+For several years it was always the same man, Almazoff by name. He was
+severe, already in years, sunburnt, and very thin, by no means
+communicative, moreover, and difficult to get on with. He despised us
+profoundly; but he was of such a reserved disposition that he never
+broke it sufficient to call us names. The shed in which we calcined the
+alabaster was built on a sloping and deserted bank of the river. In
+winter, on a foggy day, the view was sad, both on the river and on the
+opposite shore, even to a great distance. There was something
+heartrending in this dull, naked landscape, but it was still sadder when
+a brilliant sun shone above the boundless white plain. How one would
+have liked to fly away beyond this steppe, which began on the opposite
+shore and stretched out for fifteen hundred versts to the south like an
+immense table-cloth.
+
+Almazoff went to work silently, with a disagreeable air. We were ashamed
+not to be able to help him more effectually, but he managed to do his
+work without our assistance, and seemed to wish to make us understand
+that we were acting unjustly towards him, and that we ought to repent
+our uselessness. Our work consisted in heating the oven in order to
+calcine the alabaster that we had got together in a heap.
+
+The day following, when the alabaster was entirely calcined, we turned
+it out. Each one filled a box of alabaster, which he afterwards crushed.
+This work was not disagreeable. The fragile alabaster soon became a
+white, brilliant dust. We brandished our heavy hammers, and dealt such
+formidable blows, that we admired our own strength. When we were tired
+we felt lighter, our cheeks were red, the blood circulated more rapidly
+in our veins. Almazoff would then look at us in a condescending manner,
+as he would have looked at little children. He smoked his pipe with an
+indulgent air, unable, however, to prevent himself from grumbling. When
+he opened his mouth he was never otherwise, and he was the same with
+every one. At bottom I believe he was a kind man.
+
+They gave me another kind of labour, which consisted in working the
+turning wheel. This wheel was high and heavy, and great efforts were
+necessary to make it go round, above all when the workmen from the
+workshop of the engineers used to make the balustrade of a staircase or
+the foot of a large table, which required almost the whole trunk. No one
+man could have done the work alone. To two convicts, B---- (formerly
+gentleman) and myself, this work was given nearly always for several
+years, whenever there was anything to turn. B---- was weak, even still
+young, and somewhat sympathetic. He had been sent to prison a year
+before me, with two companions who were also of noble birth. One of
+them, an old man, used to pray day and night. The prisoners respected
+him greatly for it. He died in prison. The other one was quite a young
+man, fresh-coloured, strong, and courageous. He had carried his
+companion B---- for several hundred versts, seeing that at the end of
+the first half-stage he had fallen down from fatigue. Their friendship
+for one another was something to see.
+
+B---- was a perfectly well-bred man, of noble and generous disposition,
+but spoiled and irritated by illness. We used to turn the wheel well
+together, and the work interested us. As for me, I found the exercise
+most salutary.
+
+I was very--too--fond of shovelling away the snow, which we generally
+did after the hurricanes, so frequent in the winter. When the hurricane
+had been raging for an entire day, more than one house would be buried
+up to the windows, even if it was not covered over entirely. The
+hurricane ceased, the sun reappeared, and we were ordered to disengage
+the houses, barricaded as they were by heaps of snow.
+
+We were sent in large bands, sometimes the whole of the convicts
+together. Each of us received a shovel and had an appointed task to do,
+which it sometimes seemed impossible to get through. But we all went to
+work with a good-will. The light dust-like snow had not yet congealed,
+and was frozen only on the surface. We removed it in enormous
+shovelfuls, which were dispersed around us. In the air the snow-dust was
+as brilliant as diamonds. The shovel sank easily into the white
+glittering mass. The convicts did this work almost always with gaiety,
+the cold winter air and the exercise animated them. Every one felt
+himself in better spirits, laughter and jokes were heard, snowballs were
+exchanged, which after a time excited the indignation of the
+serious-minded convicts, who liked neither laughter nor gaiety.
+Accordingly these scenes finished almost always in showers of insults.
+
+Little by little the circle of my acquaintances increased, although I
+never thought of making new ones. I was always restless, morose, and
+mistrustful. Acquaintances, however, were made involuntarily. The first
+who came to visit me was the convict Petroff. I say visit, and I retain
+the word, for he lived in the special division which was at the farthest
+end of the barracks from mine. It seemed as if no relations could exist
+between him and me, for we had nothing in common.
+
+Nevertheless, during the first period of my stay, Petroff thought it his
+duty to come towards me nearly every day, or at least to stop me when,
+after work, I went for a stroll at the back of the barracks as far as
+possible from observation. His persistence was disagreeable to me; but
+he managed so well that his visits became at last a pleasing diversion,
+although he was by no means of a communicative disposition. He was
+short, strongly built, agile, and skilful. He had rather an agreeable
+voice, and high cheek-bones, a bold look, and white, regular teeth. He
+had always a quid of tobacco in his mouth between the lower lip and the
+gums. Many of the convicts had the habit of chewing. He seemed to me
+younger than he really was, for he did not appear to be more than
+thirty, and he was really forty. He spoke to me without any ceremony,
+and behaved to me on a footing of equality with civility and attention.
+If, for instance, he saw that I wished to be alone, he would talk to me
+for about two minutes and then go away. He thanked me, moreover, each
+time for my kindness in conversing with him, which he never did to any
+one else. I must add that his relations underwent no change not only
+during the first period of my story, but for several years, and that
+they never became more intimate, although he was really my friend. I
+never could say exactly what he looked for in my society, nor why he
+came every day to see me. He robbed me sometimes, but almost
+involuntarily. He never came to me to borrow money; so that what
+attracted him was not personal interest.
+
+It seemed to me, I know not why, that this man did not live in the same
+prison with me, but in another house in the town, far away. It appeared
+as though he had come to the convict prison by chance in order to pick
+up news, to inquire for me, in short, to see how I was getting on. He
+was always in a hurry, as though he had left some one for a moment who
+was waiting for him, or as if he had given up for a time some matter of
+business. And yet he never hurried himself. His look was strongly fixed,
+with a slight air of levity and irony. He had a habit of looking into
+the distance above the objects near him, as though he were endeavouring
+to distinguish something behind the person to whom he was talking. He
+always seemed absent-minded. I sometimes asked myself where he went when
+he left me, where could Petroff be so anxiously expected? He would
+simply go with a light step to one of the barracks or to the kitchen,
+and sit down to hear the conversation. He listened attentively, and
+joined in with animation; after which he would suddenly become silent.
+But whether he spoke or kept silent, one could always see on his
+countenance that he had business somewhere else, and that some one was
+waiting for him in the town, not very far away. The most astonishing
+thing was that he never had any business--apart, of course, from the
+hard labour assigned to him. He knew no trade, and had scarcely ever any
+money. But that did not seem to grieve him. Why did he speak to me? His
+conversation was as strange as he himself was singular. When he noticed
+that I was walking alone at the back of the barracks he made a stand,
+and turned towards me. He walked very fast, and when I turned he was
+suddenly on his heel. He approached me walking, but so quickly that he
+seemed to be going at a run.
+
+"Good-morning."
+
+"Good-morning."
+
+"I am not disturbing you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I wish to ask you something about Napoleon. I wanted to ask you if he
+is not a relation of the one who came to us in the year 1812."
+
+Petroff was a soldier's son, and knew how to read and write.
+
+"Of course he is."
+
+"People say he is President. What President--and of what?"
+
+His questions were always rapid and abrupt, as though he wished to know
+as soon as possible what he asked. I explained to him of what Napoleon
+was President, and I added that perhaps he would become Emperor.
+
+"How will that be?"
+
+I explained it to him as well as I could; Petroff listened with
+attention. He understood perfectly all I told him, and added, as he
+leant his ear towards me:
+
+"Hem! Ah, I wished to ask you, Alexander Petrovitch, if there are really
+monkeys who have hands instead of feet, and are as tall as a man?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What are they like?"
+
+I described them to him, and told him what I knew on the subject.
+
+"And where do they live?"
+
+"In warm climates. There are some to be found in the island of
+Sumatra."
+
+"Is that in America? I have heard that people there walk with their
+heads downwards."
+
+"No, no; you are thinking of the Antipodes." I explained to him as well
+as I could what America was, and what the Antipodes. He listened to me
+as attentively as if the question of the Antipodes had alone caused him
+to approach me.
+
+"Ah, ah! I read last year the story of the Countess de la Valli�re.
+Arevieff had bought this book from the Adjutant. Is it true or is it an
+invention? The work is by Dumas."
+
+"It is an invention, no doubt."
+
+"Ah, indeed. Good-bye. I am much obliged to you."
+
+And Petroff disappeared. The above may be taken as a specimen of our
+ordinary conversation.
+
+I made inquiries about him. M---- thought he had better speak to me on
+the subject, when he learnt what an acquaintance I had made. He told me
+that many convicts had excited his horror on their arrival; but not one
+of them, not even Gazin, had produced upon him such a frightful
+impression as this Petroff.
+
+"He is the most resolute, most to be feared of all the convicts," said
+M----. "He is capable of anything, nothing stops him if he has a
+caprice. He will assassinate you, if the fancy takes him, without
+hesitation and without the least remorse. I often think he is not in his
+right senses."
+
+This declaration interested me extremely; but M---- was never able to
+tell me why he had such an opinion of Petroff. Strangely enough, for
+many years together I saw this man and talked with him nearly every day.
+He was always my sincere friend, though I could not at the time tell
+why, and during the whole time he lived very quietly, and did nothing
+extreme. I am moreover convinced that M---- was right, and that he was
+perhaps a most intrepid man and the most difficult to restrain in the
+whole prison. And why so, I can scarcely explain.
+
+This Petroff was that very convict who, when he was called up to receive
+his punishment, had wished to kill the Major. I have told you the latter
+was saved by a miracle--that he had gone away one minute before the
+punishment was inflicted.
+
+Once when he was still a soldier--before his arrival at the convict
+prison--his Colonel had struck him on parade. Probably he had often been
+beaten before, but that day he was not in a humour to bear an insult, in
+open day, before the battalion drawn up in line. He killed his Colonel.
+I don't know all the details of the story, for he never told it to me
+himself. It must be understood that these explosions only took place
+when the nature within him spoke too loudly, and these occasions were
+rare; as a rule he was serious and even quiet. His strong, ardent
+passions were not burnt out, but smouldering, like burning coals beneath
+ashes.
+
+I never noticed that he was vain, or given to bragging like so many
+other convicts. He hardly ever quarrelled, but he was on friendly
+relations with scarcely any one, except, perhaps, Sirotkin, and then
+only when he had need of him. I saw him, however, one day seriously
+irritated. Some one had offended him by refusing him something he
+wanted. He was disputing on the point with a tall convict, as vigorous
+as an athlete, named Vassili Antonoff, known for his nagging, spiteful
+disposition. The man, however, who belonged to the class of civil
+convicts, was far from being a coward. They shouted at one another for
+some time, and I thought the quarrel would finish like so many others of
+the same kind, by simple interchange of abuse. The affair took an
+unexpected turn. Petroff only suddenly turned pale, his lips trembled,
+and turned blue, his respiration became difficult. He got up, and
+slowly, very slowly, and with imperceptible steps--he liked to walk
+about with his feet naked--approached Antonoff; at once the noise of
+shouting gave place to a death-like silence--a fly passing through the
+air might have been heard--every one anxiously awaited the event.
+Antonoff pointed to his adversary. His face was no longer human. I was
+unable to endure the scene, and I left the prison. I was certain that
+before I got to the staircase I should hear the shrieks of a man who was
+being murdered; but nothing of the kind took place. Before Petroff had
+succeeded in getting up to Antonoff, the latter threw him the object
+which had caused the quarrel--a miserable rag, a worn-out piece of
+lining.
+
+Of course afterwards, Antonoff did not fail to call Petroff names,
+merely as a matter of conscience, and from a feeling of what was right,
+in order to show that he had not been too much afraid; but Petroff paid
+no attention to his insults, he did not even answer him. Everything had
+ended to his advantage, and the insults scarcely affected him; he was
+glad to have got his piece of rag.
+
+A quarter of an hour later he was strolling about the barracks quite
+unoccupied, looking for some group whose conversation might possibly
+gratify his curiosity. Everything seemed to interest him, and yet he
+remained apparently indifferent to all he heard. He might have been
+compared to a workman, a vigorous workman, whom the work fears; but who,
+for the moment, has nothing to do, and condescends meanwhile to put out
+his strength in playing with his children. I did not understand why he
+remained in prison, why he did not escape. He would not have hesitated
+to get away if he had really desired to do so. Reason has no power on
+people like Petroff unless they are spurred on by will. When they desire
+something there are no obstacles in their way. I am certain that he
+would have been clever enough to escape, that he would have deceived
+every one, that he would have remained for a time without eating, hid in
+a forest, or in the bulrushes of the river; but the idea had evidently
+not occurred to him. I never noticed in him much judgment or good sense.
+People like him are born with one idea, which, without being aware of
+it, pursues them all their life. They wander until they meet with some
+object which apparently excites their desire, and then they do not mind
+risking their head. I was sometimes astonished that a man who had
+assassinated his Colonel for having been struck, would lie down without
+opposition beneath the rods, for he was always flogged when he was
+detected introducing spirits into the prison. Like all those who had no
+settled occupation, he smuggled in spirits; then, if caught, he would
+allow himself to be whipped as though he consented to the punishment,
+and confessed himself in the wrong. Otherwise they would have killed him
+rather than make him lie down. More than once I was astonished to see
+that he was robbing me in spite of his affection for me; but he did so
+from time to time. Thus he stole my Bible, which I had asked him to
+carry to its place. He had only a few steps to go; but on his way he met
+with a purchaser, to whom he sold the book, at once spending the money
+he had received on vodka. Probably he felt that day a violent desire for
+drink, and when he desired something it was necessary that he should
+have it. A man like Petroff will assassinate any one for twenty-five
+kopecks, simply to get himself a pint of vodka. On any other occasion he
+will disdain hundreds and thousands of roubles. He told me the same
+evening of the theft he had committed, but without showing the least
+sign of repentance or confusion, in a perfectly indifferent tone, as
+though he were speaking of an ordinary incident. I endeavoured to
+reprove him as he deserved, for I regretted the loss of my Bible. He
+listened to me without hesitation very calmly. He agreed that the Bible
+was a very useful book, and sincerely regretted that I had it no longer;
+but he was not for one moment sorry, though he had stolen it. He looked
+at me with such assurance that I gave up scolding him. He bore my
+reproaches because he thought I could not do otherwise than I was doing.
+He knew that he ought to be punished for such an action, and
+consequently thought I ought to abuse him for my own satisfaction, and
+to console myself for my loss. But in his inner heart he considered
+that it was all nonsense, to which a serious man ought to be ashamed to
+descend. I believe even that he looked upon me as a child, an infant,
+who does not yet understand the simplest things in the world. If I spoke
+to him of anything, except books and matters of knowledge, he would
+answer me, but only from politeness, and in laconic phrases. I wondered
+what made him question me so much on the subject of books. I looked at
+him carefully during our conversation to assure myself that he was not
+laughing at me; but no, he listened seriously, and with an attention
+which was genuine, though not always maintained. This latter
+circumstance irritated me sometimes. The questions he put to me were
+clear and precise, and he always seemed prepared for the answer. He had
+made up his mind once for all that it was no use speaking to me as to
+other matters, and that, apart from books, I understood nothing. I am
+certain that he was attached to me, and much that fact astonished me;
+but he looked upon me as a child, or as an imperfect man. He felt for me
+that sort of compassion which every stronger being feels for a weaker;
+he took me for--I do not know what he took me for. Although this
+compassion did not prevent him from robbing me, I am sure that in doing
+so he pitied me.
+
+"What a strange person!" he must have said to himself, as he lay hands
+on my property; "he does not even know how to take care of what he
+possesses." That, I think, is why he liked me. One day he said to me as
+if involuntarily:
+
+"You are too good-natured, you are so simple, so simple that one cannot
+help pitying you. Do not be offended at what I was saying to you,
+Alexander Petrovitch," he added a minute afterwards, "it is not
+ill-meant."
+
+People like Petroff will sometimes, in times of trouble and excitement,
+manifest themselves in a forcible manner; then they find the kind of
+activity which suits them; they are not men of words; they could not be
+instigators and chiefs of insurrections, but they are the men who
+execute and act; they act simply without any fuss, and run just to throw
+themselves against an obstacle with bared breast, neither thinking nor
+fearing. Every one follows them to the foot of the wall, where they
+generally leave their life. I do not think Petroff can have ended well,
+he was marked for a violent end; and if he is not yet dead, that only
+means that the opportunity has not yet presented itself. Who knows,
+however? He will, perhaps, die of extreme old age, quite quietly, after
+having wandered through life, here and there, without an object; but I
+believe M---- was right, and that Petroff was the most determined man in
+the whole convict prison.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+MEN OF DETERMINATION--LUKA
+
+
+It is difficult to speak of these men of determination. In the convict
+prison, as elsewhere, they are rare. They can be known by the fear they
+inspire; people beware of them. An irresistible feeling urged me first
+of all to turn away from them, but I afterwards changed my point of
+view, even in regard to the most frightful murderers. There are men who
+have never killed any one, and who, nevertheless, are more atrocious
+than those who have assassinated six persons. It is impossible to form
+an idea of certain crimes, of so strange a nature are they.
+
+A type of murderers that one often meets with is the following: A man
+lives calmly and peacefully. His fate is a hard one, but he puts up with
+it. He is a peasant attached to the soil, a domestic serf, a shopkeeper,
+or a soldier. Suddenly he finds something give way within him; what he
+has hitherto suffered he can bear no longer, and he plunges his knife
+into the breast of his oppressor or his enemy. He then goes beyond all
+measure. He has killed his oppressor, his enemy. That can be
+understood--there was cause for that crime; but afterwards he does not
+assassinate his enemies alone, but the first person he happens to meet
+he kills for the pleasure of killing--for an abusive word, for a look,
+to make an equal number, or only because some one is standing in his
+way. He behaves like a drunken man--a man in a delirium. When once he
+has passed the fatal line, he is himself astonished to find that nothing
+sacred exists for him. He breaks through all laws, defies all powers,
+and gives himself boundless license. He enjoys the agitation of his own
+heart and the terror that he inspires. He knows all the same that a
+frightful punishment awaits him. His sensations are probably like those
+of a man who, looking down from a high tower on to the abyss yawning at
+his feet, would be happy to throw himself head first into it in order to
+bring everything to an end. That is what happens with even the most
+quiet, the most commonplace individuals. There are some even who give
+themselves airs in this extremity. The more they were quiet,
+self-effacing before, the more they now swagger and seek to inspire
+fear. The desperate men enjoy the horror they cause; they take pleasure
+in the disgust they excite; they perform acts of madness from despair,
+and care nothing how it must all end, or seem impatient that it should
+end as soon as possible. The most curious thing is that their
+excitement, their exaltation, will last until the pillory. After that
+the thread is cut, the moment is fatal, and the man becomes suddenly
+calm, or, rather, he becomes extinct, a thing without feeling. In the
+pillory all his strength fails him, and he begs pardon of the people.
+Once at the convict prison, he is quite different. No one would ever
+imagine that this white-livered chicken had killed five or six men.
+
+There are some men whom the convict prison does not easily subdue. They
+preserve a certain swagger, a spirit of bravado.
+
+"I say, I am not what you take me for; I have sent six fellows out of
+the world," you will hear them boast; but sooner or later they have all
+to submit. From time to time, the murderer will amuse himself by
+recalling his audacity, his lawlessness when he was in a state of
+despair. He likes at these moments to have some silly fellow before whom
+he can brag, and to whom he will relate his heroic deeds, by pretending
+not to have the least wish to astonish him. "That is the sort of man I
+am," he says.
+
+And with what a refinement of prudent conceit he watches him while he is
+delivering his narrative! In his accent, in every word, this can be
+perceived. Where did he acquire this particular kind of artfulness?
+
+During the long evening of one of the first days of my confinement, I
+was listening to one of these conversations. Thanks to my inexperience I
+took the narrator for the malefactor, a man with an iron character, a
+man to whom Petroff was nothing. The narrator, Luka Kouzmitch, had
+"knocked over" a Major, for no other reason but that it pleased him to
+do so. This Luka Kouzmitch was the smallest and thinnest man in all the
+barracks. He was from the South. He had been a serf, one of those not
+attached to the soil, but who serve their masters as domestics. There
+was something cutting and haughty in his demeanour. He was a little
+bird, but had a beak and nails. The convicts sum up a man instinctively.
+They thought nothing of this one, he was too susceptible and too full of
+conceit.
+
+That evening he was stitching a shirt, seated on his camp-bedstead.
+Close to him was a narrow-minded, stupid, but good-natured and obliging
+fellow, a sort of Colossus, Kobylin by name. Luka often quarrelled with
+him in a neighbourly way, and treated him with a haughtiness which,
+thanks to his good-nature, Kobylin did not notice in the least. He was
+knitting a stocking, and listening to Luka with an indifferent air. Luka
+spoke in a loud voice and very distinctly. He wished every one to hear
+him, though he was apparently speaking only to Kobylin.
+
+"I was sent away," said Luka, sticking his needle in the shirt, "as a
+brigand."
+
+"How long ago?" asked Kobylin.
+
+"When the peas are ripe it will be just a year. Well, we got to K----v,
+and I was put into the convict prison. Around me there were a dozen men
+from Little Russia, well-built, solid, robust fellows, like oxen, and
+how quiet! The food was bad, the Major of the prison did what he liked.
+One day passed, then another, and I soon saw that all these fellows were
+cowards.
+
+"'You are afraid of such an idiot?' I said to them.
+
+"'Go and talk to him yourself,' and they burst out laughing like brutes
+that they were. I held my tongue.
+
+"There was one fellow so droll, so droll," added the narrator, now
+leaving Kobylin to address all who chose to listen.
+
+"This droll fellow was telling them how he had been tried, what he had
+said, and how he had wept with hot tears.
+
+"'There was a dog of a clerk there,' he said, 'who did nothing but write
+and take down every word I said. I told him I wished him at the devil,
+and he actually wrote that down. He troubled me so, that I quite lost my
+head.'"
+
+"Give me some thread, Vasili; the house thread is bad, rotten."
+
+"There is some from the tailor's shop," replied Vasili, handing it over
+to him.
+
+"Well, but about this Major?" said Kobylin, who had been quite
+forgotten.
+
+Luka was only waiting for that. He did not go on at once with his story,
+as though Kobylin were not worth such a mark of attention. He threaded
+his needle quietly, bent his legs lazily beneath him, and at last
+continued as follows:
+
+"I excited the fellows to such an extent that they all called out
+against the Major. That same morning I had borrowed the 'rascal' [prison
+slang for knife] from my neighbour, and had hid it, so as to be ready
+for anything. When the Major arrived, he was as furious as a madman.
+'Come now, you Little Russians,' I whispered to them, 'this is not the
+time for fear.' But, dear me, all their courage had slipped down to the
+soles of their feet, they trembled! The Major came in, he was quite
+drunk.
+
+"'What is this, how do you dare? I am your Tzar, your God,' he cried.
+
+"When he said that he was the Tzar and God, I went up to him with my
+knife in my sleeve.
+
+"'No,' I said to him, 'your high nobility,' and I got nearer and nearer
+to him, 'that cannot be. Your "high nobility" cannot be our Tzar and our
+God.'
+
+"'Ah, you are the man, it is you,' cried the Major; 'you are the leader
+of them.'
+
+"'No,' I answered, and I got still nearer to him; 'no, your "high
+nobility," as every one knows, and as you yourself know, the
+all-powerful God present everywhere is alone in heaven. And we have only
+one Tzar placed above every one else by God himself. He is our monarch,
+your "high nobility." And, your "high nobility," you are as yet only
+Major, and you are our chief only by the grace of the Tzar, and by your
+merits.'
+
+"'How? how? how?' stammered the Major. He could not speak, so astounded
+was he.
+
+"This is how I answered, and I threw myself upon him and thrust my knife
+into his belly up to the hilt. It had been done very quickly; the Major
+tottered, turned, and fell.
+
+"I had thrown my life away.
+
+"'Now, you fellows,' I cried, 'it is for you to pick him up.'"
+
+I will here make a digression from my narrative. The expression, "I am
+the Tzar! I am God!" and other similar ones were once, unfortunately,
+too often employed in the good old times by many commanders. I must
+admit that their number has seriously diminished, and perhaps even the
+last has already disappeared. Let me observe that those who spoke in
+this way were, above all, men promoted from the ranks. The grade of
+officer had turned their brain upside down. After having laboured long
+years beneath the knapsack, they suddenly found themselves officers,
+commanders, and nobles above all. Thanks to their not being accustomed
+to it, and to the first excitement caused by their promotion, they
+contracted an exaggerated idea of their power and importance relatively
+to their subordinates. Before their superiors such men are revoltingly
+servile. The most fawning of them will even say to their superiors that
+they have been common soldiers, and that they do not forget their place.
+But towards their inferiors they are despots without mercy. Nothing
+irritates the convicts so much as such abuses. These overweening
+opinions of their own greatness; this exaggerated idea of their
+immunity, causes hatred in the hearts of the most submissive men, and
+drives the most patient to excesses. Fortunately, all this dates from a
+time that is almost forgotten, and even then the superior authorities
+used to deal very severely with abuses of power. I know more than one
+example of it. What exasperates the convicts above all is disdain or
+repugnance manifested by any one in dealing with them. Those who think
+that it is only necessary to feed and clothe the prisoner, and to act
+towards him in all things according to the law, are much mistaken.
+However much debased he may be, a man exacts instinctively respect for
+his character as a man. Every prisoner knows perfectly that he is a
+convict and a reprobate, and knows the distance which separates him from
+his superiors; but neither the branding irons nor chains will make him
+forget that he is a man. He must, therefore, be treated with humanity.
+Humane treatment may raise up one in whom the divine image has long been
+obscured. It is with the "unfortunate," above all, that humane conduct
+is necessary. It is their salvation, their only joy. I have met with
+some chiefs of a kind and noble character, and I have seen what a
+beneficent influence they exercised over the poor, humiliated men
+entrusted to their care. A few affable words have a wonderful moral
+effect upon the prisoners. They render them as happy as children, and
+make them sincerely grateful towards their chiefs. One other
+remark--they do not like their chiefs to be familiar and too much
+hail-fellow-well-met with them. They wish to respect them, and
+familiarity would prevent this. The prisoners will feel proud, for
+instance, if their chief has a number of decorations; if he has good
+manners; if he is well-considered by a powerful superior; if he is
+severe, but at the same time just, and possesses a consciousness of
+dignity. The convicts prefer such a man to all others. He knows what he
+is worth, and does not insult others. Everything then is for the best.
+
+"You got well skinned for that, I suppose," asked Kobylin.
+
+"As for being skinned, indeed, there is no denying it. Ali, give me the
+scissors. But, what next; are we not going to play at cards to-night?"
+
+"The cards we drank up long ago," remarked Vassili. "If we had not sold
+them to get drink they would be here now."
+
+"If!---- Ifs fetch a hundred roubles a piece on the Moscow market."
+
+"Well, Luka, what did you get for sticking him?" asked Kobylin.
+
+"It brought me five hundred strokes, my friend. It did indeed. They did
+all but kill me," said Luka, once more addressing the assembly and
+without heeding his neighbour Kobylin. "When they gave me those five
+hundred strokes, I was treated with great ceremony. I had never before
+been flogged. What a mass of people came to see me! The whole town had
+assembled to see the brigand, the murderer, receive his punishment. How
+stupid the populace is!--I cannot tell you to what extent. Timoshka the
+executioner undressed me and laid me down and cried out, 'Look out, I am
+going to grill you!' I waited for the first stroke. I wanted to cry out,
+but could not. It was no use opening my mouth, my voice had gone. When
+he gave me the second stroke--you need not believe me unless you
+please--I did not hear when they counted two. I returned to myself and
+heard them count seventeen. Four times they took me down from the board
+to let me breathe for half-an-hour, and to souse me with cold water. I
+stared at them with my eyes starting from my head, and said to myself,
+'I shall die here.'"
+
+"But you did not die," remarked Kobylin innocently.
+
+Luka looked at him with disdain, and every one burst out laughing.
+
+"What an idiot! Is he wrong in the upper storey?" said Luka, as if he
+regretted that he had condescended to speak to such an idiot.
+
+"He is a little mad," said Vassili on his side.
+
+Although Luka had killed six persons, no one was ever afraid of him in
+the prison. He wished, however, to be looked upon as a terrible person.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+ISAIAH FOMITCH--THE BATH--BAKLOUCHIN.
+
+
+But the Christmas holidays were approaching, and the convicts looked
+forward to them with solemnity. From their mere appearance it was easy
+to see that something extraordinary was about to arrive. Four days
+before the holidays they were to be taken to the bath; every one was
+pleased, and was making preparations. We were to go there after dinner.
+On this occasion there was no work in the afternoon, and of all the
+convicts the one who was most pleased, and showed the greatest activity,
+was a certain Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein, a Jew, of whom I spoke in my
+fifth chapter. He liked to remain stewing in the bath until he became
+unconscious. Whenever I think of the prisoner's bath, which is a thing
+not to be forgotten, the first thought that presents itself to my memory
+is of that very glorious and eternally to be remembered, Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein, my prison companion. Good Lord! what a strange man he was! I
+have already said a few words about his face. He was fifty years of age,
+his face wrinkled, with frightful scars on his cheeks and on his
+forehead, and the thin, weak body of a fowl. His face expressed
+perpetual confidence in himself, and, I may almost say, perfect
+happiness. I do not think he was at all sorry to be condemned to hard
+labour. He was a jeweller by trade, and as there was no other in the
+town, he had always plenty of work to do, and was more or less well
+paid. He wanted nothing, and lived, so to say, sumptuously, without
+spending all that he gained, for he saved money and lent it out to the
+other convicts at interest. He possessed a tea-urn, a mattress, a
+tea-cup, and a blanket. The Jews of the town did not refuse him their
+patronage. Every Saturday he went under escort to the synagogue (which
+was authorised by the law); and he lived like a fighting cock.
+Nevertheless, he looked forward to the expiration of his term of
+imprisonment in order to get married. He was the most comic mixture of
+simplicity, stupidity, cunning, timidity, and bashfulness; but the
+strangest thing was that the convicts never laughed, or seriously mocked
+him--they only teased him for amusement. Isaiah Fomitch was a subject of
+distraction and amusement for every one.
+
+"We have only one Isaiah Fomitch, we will take care of him," the
+convicts seemed to say; and as if he understood this, he was proud of
+his own importance. From the account given to me it appeared he had
+entered the convict prison in the most laughable manner (it took place
+before my arrival). Suddenly one evening a report was spread in the
+convict prison that a Jew had been brought there, who at that moment was
+being shaved in the guard-house, and that he was immediately afterwards
+to be taken to the barracks. As there was not a single Jew in the
+prison, the convicts looked forward to his entry with impatience, and
+surrounded him as soon as he passed the great gates. The officer on
+service took him to the civil prison, and pointed out the place where
+his plank bedstead was to be.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch held in his hand a bag containing the things given to
+him, and some other things of his own. He put down his bag, took his
+place at the plank bedstead, and sat down there with his legs crossed,
+without daring to raise his eyes. People were laughing all round him.
+The convicts ridiculed him by reason of his Jewish origin. Suddenly a
+young convict left the others, and came up to him, carrying in his hand
+an old pair of summer trousers, dirty, torn, and mended with old rags.
+He sat down by the side of Isaiah Fomitch, and struck him on the
+shoulder.
+
+"Well, my dear fellow," said he, "I have been waiting for the last six
+years; look up and tell me how much you will give for this article,"
+holding up his rags before him.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch was so dumbfounded that he did not dare to look at the
+mocking crowd, with mutilated and frightful countenances, now grouped
+around him, and did not speak a single word, so frightened was he. When
+he saw who was speaking to him he shuddered, and began to examine the
+rags carefully. Every one waited to hear his first words.
+
+"Well, cannot you give me a silver rouble for it? It is certainly worth
+that," said the would-be vendor smiling, and looking towards Isaiah
+Fomitch with a wink.
+
+"A silver rouble! no; but I will give you seven kopecks."
+
+These were the first words pronounced by Isaiah Fomitch in the convict
+prison. A loud laugh was heard from all sides.
+
+"Seven kopecks! Well, give them to me; you are lucky, you are indeed.
+Look! Take care of the pledge, you answer for it with your head."
+
+"With three kopecks for interest; that will make ten kopecks you will
+owe me," said the Jew, at the same time slipping his hand into his
+pocket to get out the sum agreed upon.
+
+"Three kopecks interest--for a year?"
+
+"No, not for a year, for a month."
+
+"You are a terrible screw, what is your name?"
+
+"Isaiah Fomitch."
+
+"Well, Isaiah Fomitch, you ought to get on. Good-bye."
+
+The Jew examined once more the rags on which he had lent seven kopecks,
+folded them up, and put them carefully away in his bag. The convicts
+continued to laugh at him.
+
+In reality every one laughed at him, but, although every prisoner owed
+him money, no one insulted him; and when he saw that every one was well
+disposed towards him, he gave himself haughty airs, but so comic that
+they were at once forgiven.
+
+Luka, who had known many Jews when he was at liberty, often teased him,
+less from malice than for amusement, as one plays with a dog or a
+parrot. Isaiah Fomitch knew this and did not take offence.
+
+"You will see, Jew, how I will flog you."
+
+"If you give me one blow I will return you ten," replied Isaiah Fomitch
+valiantly.
+
+"Scurvy Jew."
+
+"As scurvy as you like; I have in any case plenty of money."
+
+"Bravo! Isaiah Fomitch. We must take care of you. You are the only Jew
+we have; but they will send you to Siberia all the same."
+
+"I am already in Siberia."
+
+"They will send you farther on."
+
+"Is not the Lord God there?"
+
+"Of course, he is everywhere."
+
+"Well, then! With the Lord God, and money, one has all that is
+necessary."
+
+"What a fellow he is!" cries every one around him.
+
+The Jew sees that he is being laughed at, but does not lose courage. He
+gives himself airs. The flattery addressed to him causes him much
+pleasure, and with a high, squealing falsetto, which is heard throughout
+the barracks, he begins to sing, "la, la, la, la," to an idiotic and
+ridiculous tune; the only song he was heard to sing during his stay at
+the convict prison. When he made my acquaintance, he assured me solemnly
+that it was the song, and the very air, that was sung by 600,000 Jews,
+small and great, when they crossed the Red Sea, and that every Israelite
+was ordered to sing it after a victory gained over an enemy.
+
+The eve of each Saturday the convicts came from the other barracks to
+ours, expressly to see Isaiah Fomitch celebrating his Sabbath. He was so
+vain, so innocently conceited, that this general curiosity flattered him
+immensely. He covered the table in his little corner with a pedantic
+air of importance, opened a book, lighted two candles, muttered some
+mysterious words, and clothed himself in a kind of chasuble, striped,
+and with sleeves, which he preserved carefully at the bottom of his
+trunk. He fastened to his hands leather bracelets, and finally attached
+to his forehead, by means of a ribbon, a little box, which made it seem
+as if a horn were starting from his head. He then began to pray. He read
+in a drawling voice, cried out, spat, and threw himself about with wild
+and comic gestures. All this was prescribed by the ceremonies of his
+religion. There was nothing laughable or strange in it, except the airs
+which Isaiah Fomitch gave himself before us in performing his
+ceremonies. Then he suddenly covered his head with both hands, and began
+to read with many sobs. His tears increased, and in his grief he almost
+lay down upon the book his head with the ark upon it, howling as he did
+so; but suddenly in the midst of his despondent sobs he burst into a
+laugh, and recited with a nasal twang a hymn of triumph, as if he were
+overcome by an excess of happiness.
+
+"Impossible to understand it," the convicts would sometimes say to one
+another. One day I asked Isaiah Fomitch what these sobs signified, and
+why he passed so suddenly from despair to triumphant happiness. Isaiah
+Fomitch was very pleased when I asked him these questions. He explained
+to me directly that the sobs and tears were provoked by the loss of
+Jerusalem, and that the law ordered the pious Jew to groan and strike
+his breast; but at the moment of his most acute grief he was suddenly to
+remember that a prophecy had foretold the return of the Jews to
+Jerusalem, and he was then to manifest overflowing joy, to sing, to
+laugh, and to recite his prayers with an expression of happiness in his
+voice and on his countenance. This sudden passage from one phase of
+feeling to another delighted Isaiah Fomitch, and he explained to me this
+ingenious prescription of his faith with the greatest satisfaction.
+
+One evening, in the midst of his prayers, the Major entered, followed by
+the officer of the guard and an escort of soldiers. All the prisoners
+got immediately into line before their camp-bedsteads. Isaiah Fomitch
+alone continued to shriek and gesticulate. He knew that his worship was
+authorised, and that no one could interrupt him, so that in howling in
+the presence of the Major he ran no risk. It pleased him to throw
+himself about beneath the eyes of the chief.
+
+The Major approached within a few steps. Isaiah Fomitch turned his back
+to the table, and just in front of the officer began to sing his hymn of
+triumph, gesticulating and drawling out certain syllables. When he came
+to the part where he had to assume an expression of extreme happiness,
+he did so by blinking with his eyes, at the same time laughing and
+nodding his head in the direction of the Major. The latter was at first
+much astonished; then he burst into a laugh, called out, "Idiot!" and
+went away, while the Jew still continued to shriek. An hour later, when
+he had finished, I asked him what he would have done if the Major had
+been wicked enough and foolish enough to lose his temper.
+
+"What Major?"
+
+"What Major! Did you not see him? He was only two steps from you, and
+was looking at you all the time." But Isaiah Fomitch assured me as
+seriously as possible that he had not seen the Major, for while he was
+saying his prayers he was in such a state of ecstasy that he neither saw
+nor heard anything that was taking place around him.
+
+I can see Isaiah Fomitch wandering about on Saturday throughout the
+prison, endeavouring to do nothing, as the law prescribes to every Jew.
+What improbable anecdotes he told me! Every time he returned from the
+synagogue he always brought me some news of St. Petersburg, and the most
+absurd rumours imaginable from his fellow Jews of the town, who
+themselves had received them at first hand. But I have already spoken
+too much of Isaiah Fomitch.
+
+In the whole town there were only two public baths. The first, kept by a
+Jew, was divided into compartments, for which one paid fifty kopecks. It
+was frequented by the aristocracy of the town.
+
+The other bath, old, dirty, and close, was destined for the people. It
+was there that the convicts were taken. The air was cold and clear. The
+prisoners were delighted to get out of the fortress and have a walk
+through the town. During the walk their laughter and jokes never ceased.
+A platoon of soldiers, with muskets loaded, accompanied us. It was quite
+a sight for the town's-people. When we had reached our destination, the
+bath was so small that it did not permit us all to enter at once. We
+were divided into two bands, one of which waited in the cold room while
+the other one bathed in the hot one. Even then, so narrow was the room
+that it was difficult for us to understand how half of the convicts
+could stand together in it.
+
+Petroff kept close to me. He remained by my side without my having
+begged him to do so, and offered to rub me down. Baklouchin, a convict
+of the special section, offered me at the same time his services. I
+recollect this prisoner, who was called the "Sapper," as the gayest and
+most agreeable of all my companions. We had become intimate friends.
+Petroff helped me to undress, because I was generally a long time
+getting my things off, not being yet accustomed to the operation; and it
+was almost as cold in the dressing-room as outside the doors.
+
+It is very difficult for a convict who is still a novice to get his
+things off, for he must know how to undo the leather straps which fasten
+on the chains. These leather straps are buckled over the shirt, just
+beneath the ring which encloses the leg. One pair of straps costs sixty
+kopecks, and each convict is obliged to get himself a pair, for it would
+be impossible to walk without their assistance. The ring does not
+enclose the leg too tightly. One can pass the finger between the iron
+and the flesh; but the ring rubs against the calf, so that in a single
+day the convict who walks without leather straps, gets his skin broken.
+
+To take off the straps presents no difficulty. It is not the same with
+the clothes. To get the trousers off is in itself a prodigious
+operation, and the same may be said of the shirt whenever it has to be
+changed. The first who gave us lessons in this art was Koreneff, a
+former chief of brigands, condemned to be chained up for five years. The
+convicts are very skilful at the work, and do it readily.
+
+I gave a few kopecks to Petroff to buy soap and a bunch of the twigs
+with which one rubs oneself in the bath. Bits of soap were given to the
+convicts, but they were not larger than pieces of two kopecks. The soap
+was sold in the dressing-room, as well as mead, cakes of white flour,
+and boiling water; for each convict received but one pailful, according
+to the agreement made between the proprietor of the bath and the
+administration of the prison. The convicts who wished to make themselves
+thoroughly clean, could for two kopecks buy another pailful, which the
+proprietor handed to them through a window pierced in the wall for that
+purpose. As soon as I was undressed, Petroff took me by the arm and
+observed to me that I should find it difficult to walk with my chains.
+
+"Drag them up on to your calves," he said to me, holding me by the arms
+at the same time, as if I were an old man. I was ashamed at his care,
+and assured him that I could walk well enough by myself, but he did not
+believe me. He paid me the same attention that one gives to an awkward
+child. Petroff was not a servant in any sense of the word. If I had
+offended him, he would have known how to deal with me. I had promised
+him nothing for his assistance, nor had he asked me for anything. What
+inspired him with so much solicitude for me?
+
+Represent to yourself a room of twelve feet long by as many broad, in
+which a hundred men are all crowded together, or at least eighty, for we
+were in all two hundred divided into two sections. The steam blinded us;
+the sweat, the dirt, the want of space, were such that we did not know
+where to put a foot down. I was frightened and wished to go out. Petroff
+hastened to reassure me. With great trouble we succeeded in raising
+ourselves on to the benches, by passing over the heads of the convicts,
+whom we begged to bend down, in order to let us pass; but all the
+benches were already occupied. Petroff informed me that I must buy a
+place, and at once entered into negotiations with the convict who was
+near the window. For a kopeck this man consented to cede me his place.
+After receiving the money, which Petroff held tight in his hand, and
+which he had prudently provided himself with beforehand, the man crept
+just beneath me into a dark and dirty corner. There was there, at least,
+half an inch of filth; even the places above the benches were occupied,
+the convicts swarmed everywhere. As for the floor there was not a place
+as big as the palm of the hand which was not occupied by the convicts.
+They sent the water in spouts out of their pails. Those who were
+standing up washed themselves pail in hand, and the dirty water ran all
+down their body to fall on the shaved heads of those who were sitting
+down. On the upper bench, and the steps which led to it, were heaped
+together other convicts who washed themselves more thoroughly, but these
+were in small number. The populace does not care to wash with soap and
+water, it prefers stewing in a horrible manner, and then inundating
+itself with cold water. That is how the common people take their bath.
+On the floor could be seen fifty bundles of rods rising and falling at
+the same time, the holders were whipping themselves into a state of
+intoxication. The steam became thicker and thicker every minute, so that
+what one now felt was not a warm but a burning sensation, as from
+boiling pitch. The convicts shouted and howled to the accompaniment of
+the hundred chains shaking on the floor. Those who wished to pass from
+one place to another got their chains mixed up with those of their
+neighbours, and knocked against the heads of the men who were lower down
+than they. Then there were volleys of oaths as those who fell dragged
+down the ones whose chains had become entangled in theirs. They were all
+in a state of intoxication of wild exultation. Cries and shrieks were
+heard on all sides. There was much crowding and crushing at the window
+of the dressing-room through which the hot water was delivered, and
+much of it got spilt over the heads of those who were seated on the
+floor before it arrived at its destination. We seemed to be fully at
+liberty; and yet from time to time, behind the window of the
+dressing-room, or through the open door, could be seen the moustached
+face of a soldier, with his musket at his feet, watching that no serious
+disorder took place.
+
+The shaved heads of the convicts, and their red bodies, which the steam
+made the colour of blood, seemed more monstrous than ever. On their
+backs, made scarlet by the steam, stood out in striking relief the scars
+left by the whips and the rods, made long before, but so thoroughly that
+the flesh seemed to have been quite recently torn. Strange scars. A
+shudder passed through me at the mere sight of them. Again the volume of
+steam increased, and the bath-room was now covered with a thick, burning
+cloud, covering agitation and cries. From this cloud stood out torn
+backs, shaved heads; and, to complete the picture, Isaiah Fomitch
+howling with joy on the highest of the benches. He was saturating
+himself with steam. Any other man would have fainted away, but no
+temperature is too high for him; he engages the services of a rubber for
+a kopeck, but after a few moments the latter is unable to continue,
+throws away his bunch of twigs, and runs to inundate himself with cold
+water. Isaiah Fomitch does not lose courage, he runs to hire a second
+rubber, then a third; on these occasions he thinks nothing of expense,
+and changes his rubber four or five times. "He stews well, the gallant
+Isaiah Fomitch," cry the convicts from below. The Jew feels that he goes
+beyond all the others, he has beaten them; he triumphs with his hoarse
+falsetto voice, and sings out his favourite air which rises above the
+general hubbub. It seemed to me that if ever we met in hell we should be
+reminded of the place where we then were. I could not resist a wish to
+communicate this idea to Petroff. He looked all round him, but made no
+answer.
+
+I wished to buy a place for him on the bench by my side; but he sat
+down at my feet and declared that he felt quite at his ease. Baklouchin
+meanwhile bought us some hot water which he would bring to us as soon as
+we wanted it. Petroff offered to clean me from head to foot, and he
+begged me to go through the preliminary stewing process. I could not
+make up my mind to it. At last he rubbed me all over with soap. I wished
+to make him understand that I could wash myself, but it was no use
+contradicting him and I gave myself up to him.
+
+When he had done with me he took me back to the dressing-room, holding
+me up, and telling me at each step to take care, as if I had been made
+of porcelain. He helped me to put on my clothes, and when he had
+finished his kindly work he rushed back to the bath to have a thorough
+stewing.
+
+When we got back to the barracks I offered him a glass of tea, which he
+did not refuse. He drank it and thanked me. I wished to go to the
+expense of a glass of vodka in his honour, and I succeeded in getting it
+on the spot. Petroff was exceedingly pleased. He swallowed his vodka
+with a murmur of satisfaction, declared that I had restored him to life,
+and then suddenly rushed to the kitchen, as if the people who were
+talking there could not decide anything important without him.
+
+Now another man came up for a talk. This was Baklouchin, of whom I have
+already spoken, and whom I had also invited to take tea.
+
+I never knew a man of a more agreeable disposition than Baklouchin. It
+must be admitted that he never forgave a wrong, and that he often got
+into quarrels. He could not, above all, endure people interfering with
+his affairs. He knew, in a word, how to take care of himself; but his
+quarrels never lasted long, and I believe that all the convicts liked
+him. Wherever he went he was well received. Even in the town he was
+looked upon as the most amusing man in the world. He was a man of lofty
+stature, thirty years old, with a frank, determined countenance, and
+rather good-looking, with his tuft of hair on his chin. He possessed the
+art of changing his face in such a comic manner by imitating the first
+person he happened to see, that the people around him were constantly in
+a roar. He was a professed joker, but he never allowed himself to be
+slighted by those who did not enjoy his fun. Accordingly, no one spoke
+disparagingly of him. He was full of life and fire. He made my
+acquaintance at the very beginning of my imprisonment, and related to me
+his military career, when he was a sapper in the Engineers, where he had
+been placed as a favour by people of influence. He put a number of
+questions to me about St. Petersburg; he even read books when he came to
+take tea with me. He amused the whole company by relating how roughly
+Lieutenant K---- had that morning handled the Major. He told me,
+moreover, with a satisfied air, as he took his seat by my side, that we
+should probably have a theatrical representation in the prison. The
+convicts proposed to get up a play during the Christmas holidays. The
+necessary actors were found, and, little by little, the scenery was
+prepared. Some persons in the town had promised to lend women's clothes
+for the performance. Some hopes were even entertained of obtaining,
+through the medium of an officer's servant, a uniform with epaulettes,
+provided only the Major did not take it into his head to forbid the
+performance, as he had done the previous year. He was at that time in
+ill-humour through having lost at cards, and he had been annoyed at
+something that had taken place in the prison. Accordingly, in a fit of
+ill-humour, he had forbidden the performance. It was possible, however,
+that this year he would not prevent it. Baklouchin was in a state of
+exultation. It could be seen that he would be one of the principal
+supporters of the meditated theatre. I made up my mind to be present at
+the performance. The ingenuous joy which Baklouchin manifested in
+speaking of the undertaking was quite touching. From whispering, we
+gradually got to talk of the matter quite openly. He told me, among
+other things, that he had not served at St. Petersburg alone. He had
+been sent to R---- with the rank of non-commissioned officer in a
+garrison battalion.
+
+"From there they sent me on here," added Baklouchin.
+
+"And why?" I asked him.
+
+"Why? You would never guess, Alexander Petrovitch. Because I was in
+love."
+
+"Come now. A man is not exiled for that," I said, with a laugh.
+
+"I should have added," continued Baklouchin, "that it made me kill a
+German with a pistol-shot. Was it worth while to send me to hard labour
+for killing a German? Only think."
+
+"How did it happen? Tell me the story. It must be a strange one."
+
+"An amusing story indeed, Alexander Petrovitch."
+
+"So much the better. Tell me."
+
+"You wish me to do so? Well, then, listen."
+
+And he told me the story of his murder. It was not "amusing," but it was
+indeed strange.
+
+"This is how it happened," began Baklouchin; "I had been sent to Riga, a
+fine, handsome city, which has only one fault, there are too many
+Germans there. I was still a young man, and I had a good character with
+my officers. I wore my cap cocked on the side of my head, and passed my
+time in the most agreeable manner. I made love to the German girls. One
+of them, named Luisa, pleased me very much. She and her aunt were
+getters-up of fine linen. The old woman was a true caricature; but she
+had money. First of all I merely passed under the young girl's windows;
+but I soon made her acquaintance. Luisa spoke Russian well enough,
+though with a slight accent. She was charming. I never saw any one like
+her. I was most pressing in my advances; but she only replied that she
+would preserve her innocence, that as a wife she might prove worthy of
+me. She was an affectionate, smiling girl, and wonderfully neat. In
+fact, I assure you, I never saw any one like her. She herself had
+suggested that I should marry her, and how was I not to marry her?
+Suddenly Luisa did not come to her appointment. This happened once, then
+twice, then a third time. I sent her a letter, but she did not reply.
+'What is to be done?' I said to myself. If she had been deceiving me she
+could easily have taken me in. She could have answered my letter and
+come all the same to the appointment; but she was incapable of
+falsehood. She had simply broken off with me. 'This is a trick of the
+aunt,' I said to myself. I was afraid to go to her house.
+
+"Even though she was aware of our engagement, we acted as if she were
+ignorant of it. I wrote a fine letter in which I said to Luisa, 'If you
+don't come, I will come to your aunt's for you.' She was afraid and
+came. Then she began to weep, and told me that a German named Schultz, a
+distant relation of theirs, a clockmaker by trade, and of a certain age,
+but rich, had shown a wish to marry her--in order to make her happy, as
+he said, and that he himself might not remain without a wife in his old
+age. He had loved her a long time, so she told me, and had been
+nourishing this idea for years, but he had kept it a secret, and had
+never ventured to speak out. 'You see, Sasha,' she said to me, 'that it
+is a question of my happiness; for he is rich, and would you prevent my
+happiness?' I looked her in the face, she wept, embraced me, clasped me
+in her arms.
+
+"'Well, she is quite right,' I said to myself, 'what good is there in
+marrying a soldier--even a non-commissioned officer? Come, farewell,
+Luisa. God protect you. I have no right to prevent your happiness.'
+
+"'And what sort of a man is he? Is he good-looking?'
+
+"'No, he is old, and he has such a long nose.'
+
+"She here burst into a fit of laughter. I left her. 'It was my destiny,'
+I said to myself. The next day I passed by Schultz' shop (she had told
+me where he lived). I looked through the window and saw a German, who
+was arranging a watch, forty-five years of age, an aquiline nose,
+swollen eyes, a dress-coat with a very high collar. I spat with contempt
+as I looked at him. At that moment I was ready to break the shop
+windows, but 'What is the use of it?' I said to myself; 'there is
+nothing more to be done: it is over, all over.' I got back to the
+barracks as the night was falling, and stretched myself out on my bed,
+and--will you believe it, Alexander Petrovitch?--began to sob--yes, to
+sob. One day passed, then a second, then a third. I saw Luisa no more. I
+had learned, however, from an old woman (she was also a washerwoman, and
+the girl I loved used sometimes to visit her), that this German knew of
+our relations, and that for that reason he had made up his mind to marry
+her as soon as possible, otherwise he would have waited two years
+longer. He had made Luisa swear that she would see me no more. It
+appeared that on account of me he had refused to loosen his
+purse-strings, and kept Luisa and her aunt very close. Perhaps he would
+yet change his idea, for he was not very resolute. The old woman told me
+that he had invited them to take coffee with him the next day, a Sunday,
+and that another relation, a former shopkeeper, now very poor, and an
+assistant in some liquor store, would also come. When I found that the
+business was to be settled on Sunday, I was so furious that I could not
+recover my cold blood, and the following day I did nothing but reflect.
+I believe I could have devoured that German. On Sunday morning I had not
+come to any decision. As soon as the service was over I ran out, got
+into my great-coat, and went to the house of this German. I thought I
+should find them all there. Why I went to the German, and what I meant
+to say to him, I did not know myself.
+
+"I slipped a pistol into my pocket to be ready for everything; a little
+pistol which was not worth a curse, with an old-fashioned lock--a thing
+I had used when I was a boy, and which was really fit for nothing. I
+loaded it, however, because I thought they would try to kick me out, and
+that the German would insult me, in which case I would pull out my
+pistol to frighten them all. I arrived. There was no one on the
+staircase; they were all in the work-room. No servant. The one girl who
+waited upon them was absent. I crossed the shop and saw that the door
+was closed--an old door fastened from the inside. My heart beat; I
+stopped and listened. They were speaking German. I broke open the door
+with a kick. I looked round. The table was laid; there was a large
+coffee-pot on it, with a spirit lamp underneath, and a plate of
+biscuits. On a tray there was a small decanter of brandy, herrings,
+sausages, and a bottle of some wine. Luisa and her aunt, both in their
+Sunday best, were seated on a sofa. Opposite them, the German was
+exhibiting himself on a chair, got up like a bridegroom, and in his coat
+with the high collar, and with his hair carefully combed. On the other
+side, there was another German, old, fat, and gray. He was taking no
+part in the conversation. When I entered, Luisa turned very pale. The
+aunt sprang up with a bound and sat down again. The German became angry.
+What a rage he was in! He got up, and walking towards me, said:
+
+"'What do you want?'
+
+"I should have lost my self-possession if anger had not supported me.
+
+"'What do I want? Is this the way to receive a guest? Why do you not
+offer him something to drink? I have come to pay you a visit.'
+
+"The German reflected a moment, and then said, 'Sit down.'
+
+"I sat down.
+
+"'Here is some vodka. Help yourself, I beg.'
+
+"'And let it be good,' I cried, getting more and more into a rage.
+
+"'It is good.'
+
+"I was enraged to see him looking at me from top to toe. The most
+frightful part of it was, that Luisa was looking on. I took a drink and
+said to him:
+
+"'Look here, German, what business have you to speak rudely to me? Let
+us be better acquainted. I have come to see you as friends.'
+
+"'I cannot be your friend,' he replied. 'You are a private soldier.'
+
+"Then I lost all self-command.
+
+"'Oh, you German! You sausage-seller! You know how much you are in my
+power. Look here; do you wish me to break your head with this pistol?'
+
+"I drew out my pistol, got up, and struck him on the forehead. The
+women were more dead than alive; they were afraid to breathe. The eldest
+of the two men, quite white, was trembling like a leaf.
+
+"The German seemed much astonished. But he soon recovered himself.
+
+"'I am not afraid of you,' he said, 'and I beg of you, as a well-bred
+man, to put an end to this pleasantry. I am not afraid of you!'
+
+"'You are afraid! You dare not move while this pistol is presented at
+you.'
+
+"'You dare not do such a thing!' he cried.
+
+"'And why should I not dare?'
+
+"'Because you would be severely punished.'
+
+"May the devil take that idiot of a German! If he had not urged me on,
+he would have been alive now.
+
+"'So you think I dare not?'
+
+"'No.'
+
+"'I dare not, you think?'
+
+"'You would not dare!'
+
+"'Wouldn't I, sausage-maker?' I fired the pistol, and down he sank on
+his chair. The others uttered shrieks. I put back my pistol in my
+pocket, and when I returned to the fortress, threw it among some weeds
+near the principal entrance.
+
+"Inside the barracks I laid on my bed, and said to myself, 'I shall be
+taken away soon.' One hour passed, then another, but I was not arrested.
+
+"Towards evening I felt so sad, I went out at all hazards to see Luisa;
+I passed before the house of the clockmaker's. There were a number of
+people there, including the police. I ran on to the old woman's and
+said:
+
+"'Call Luisa!'
+
+"I had only a moment to wait. She came immediately, and threw herself on
+my neck in tears.
+
+"'It is my fault,' she said. 'I should not have listened to my aunt.'
+
+"She then told me that her aunt, immediately after the scene, had gone
+back home. She was in such a fright that she fell and did not speak a
+word; she had uttered nothing. On the contrary, she ordered her niece
+to be as silent as herself.
+
+"'No one has seen her since,' said Luisa.
+
+"The clockmaker had previously sent his servant away, for he was afraid
+of her. She was jealous, and would have scratched his eyes out had she
+known that he wished to get married.
+
+"There were no workmen in the house, he had sent them all away; he had
+himself prepared the coffee and collation. As for the relation, who had
+scarcely spoken a word all his life, he took his hat, and, without
+opening his mouth, went away.
+
+"'He is quite sure to be silent,' added Luisa.
+
+"So, indeed, he was. For two weeks no one arrested me nor suspected me
+the least in the world.
+
+"You need not believe me unless you choose, Alexander Petrovitch.
+
+"These two weeks were the happiest in my life. I saw Luisa every day.
+And how much she had become attached to me!
+
+"She said to me through her tears: 'If you are exiled, I will go with
+you. I will leave everything to follow you.'
+
+"I thought of making away with myself, so much had she moved me; but
+after two weeks I was arrested. The old man and the aunt had agreed to
+denounce me."
+
+"But," I interrupted, "Baklouchin, for that they would only have given
+you from ten to twelve years' hard labour, and in the civil section; yet
+you are in the special section. How does that happen?"
+
+"That is another affair," said Baklouchin. "When I was taken before the
+Council of War, the captain appointed to conduct the case began by
+insulting me, and calling me names before the Tribunal. I could not
+stand it, and shouted out to him: 'Why do you insult me? Don't you see,
+you scoundrel! that you are only looking at yourself in the glass?'
+
+"This brought a new charge against me. I was tried a second time, and
+for the two things was condemned to four thousand strokes, and to the
+special section. When I was taken out to receive my punishment in the
+_Green Street_, the captain was at the same time sent away. He had been
+degraded from his rank, and was despatched to the Caucasus as a private
+soldier. Good-bye, Alexander Petrovitch. Don't fail to come to our
+performance."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS
+
+
+The holidays were approaching. On the eve of the great day the convicts
+scarcely ever went to work. Those who had been assigned to the sewing
+workshops, and a few others, went to work as usual; but they went back
+almost immediately to the convict prison, separately, or in parties.
+After dinner no one worked. From the early morning the greater part of
+the convicts were occupied with their own affairs, and not with those of
+the administration. Some were making arrangements for bringing in
+spirits, while others were seeking permission to see their friends, or
+to collect small accounts due to them for the work they had already
+executed. Baklouchin, and the convicts who were to take part in the
+performance, were endeavouring to persuade some of their acquaintances,
+nearly all officers' servants, to procure for them the necessary
+costumes. Some of them came and went with a business-like air, solely
+because others were really occupied. They had no money to receive, and
+yet seemed to expect a payment. Every one, in short, seemed to be
+looking for a change of some kind. Towards evening the old soldiers,
+who executed the convicts' commissions, brought them all kinds of
+victuals--meat, sucking-pigs, and geese. Many prisoners, even the most
+simple and most economical, after saving up their kopecks throughout the
+year, thought they ought to spend some of them that day, so as to
+celebrate Christmas Eve in a worthy manner. The day afterwards was for
+the convicts a still greater festival, one to which they had a right, as
+it was recognised by law. The prisoners could not be sent to work that
+day. There were not three days like it in all the year.
+
+And, moreover, what recollections must have been agitating the souls of
+those reprobates at the approach of such a solemn day! The common people
+from their childhood kept the great festival in their memory. They must
+have remembered with anguish and torments these days which, work being
+laid aside, are passed in the bosom of the family. The respect of the
+convicts for that day had something imposing about it. The drunkards
+were not at all numerous; nearly every one was serious, and, so to say,
+preoccupied, though they had for the most part nothing to do. Even those
+who feasted most preserved a serious air. Laughter seemed to be
+forbidden. A sort of intolerant susceptibility reigned throughout the
+prison; and if any one interfered with the general repose, even
+involuntarily, he was soon put in his proper place, with cries and
+oaths. He was condemned as though he had been wanting in respect to the
+festival itself.
+
+This disposition of the convicts was remarkable, and even touching.
+Besides the innate veneration they have for this great day, they foresee
+that in observing the festival they are in communion with the rest of
+the world; that they are not altogether reprobates lost and cast off by
+society. The usual rejoicings took place in the convict prison as well
+as outside. They felt all that. I saw it, and understood it myself.
+
+Akim Akimitch had made great preparations for the festival. He had no
+family recollections, being an orphan, born in a strange house, and put
+into the army at the age of fifteen. He could never have experienced any
+great joys, having always lived regularly and uniformly in the fear of
+infringing the rules imposed upon him, nor was he very religious; for
+his acquired formality had stifled in him all human feeling, all
+passions and likings, good or bad. He accordingly prepared to keep
+Christmas without exciting himself about it. He was saddened by no
+painful, useless recollection. He did everything with the punctuality
+imposed upon him in the execution of his duties, and in order once for
+all to get through the ceremony in a becoming manner. Moreover, he did
+not care to reflect upon the importance of the day, had never troubled
+his brain about it, even while he was executing his prescribed duties
+with religious minuteness. If he had been ordered the day following to
+do contrary to what he had done the evening before he would have done it
+with equal submission. Once in life, once, and once only, he had wished
+to act by his own impulse--and he had been sent to hard labour for it.
+
+This lesson had not been lost upon him, although it was written that he
+was never to understand his fault. He had yet become impressed with this
+salutary moral principle: never to reason in any matter because his mind
+was not equal to the task of judging. Blindly devoted to ceremonies, he
+looked with respect at the sucking-pig which he had stuffed with
+millet-seed, and which he had roasted himself (for he had some culinary
+skill), just as if it had not been an ordinary sucking-pig which could
+have been bought and roasted at any time, but a particular kind of
+animal born specially for Christmas Day. Perhaps he had been accustomed
+from his tender infancy to see that day a sucking-pig on the table, and
+he may have concluded that a sucking-pig was indispensable for the
+proper celebration of the festival. I am certain that if by ill-luck he
+had not eaten this particular kind of meat on that day, he would have
+been troubled with remorse all his life for not having done his duty.
+Until Christmas morning he wore his old vest and his old trousers, which
+had long been threadbare. I then learned that he kept carefully in his
+box his new clothes which had been given to him four months before, and
+that he had not put them on once, in order that he might wear them for
+the first time on Christmas Day. He did so. The evening before he took
+his new clothes out of his trunk, unfolded, examined them, cleaned them,
+blew on them to remove the dust, and when he was convinced that they
+were perfect, probably tried them on. The dress became him perfectly;
+all the different garments suited one another. The waistcoat buttoned up
+to the neck, the collar, straight and stiff like cardboard, kept his
+chin in its proper place. There was a military cut about the dress; and
+Akim Akimitch, as he wore it, smiled with satisfaction, turning himself
+round and round, not without swagger, before a little mirror adorned
+with a gilt border.
+
+One of the waistcoat-buttons alone seemed out of place; Akim Akimitch
+remarked it, and at once set it right. He tried on the vest again and
+found it irreproachable. Then he folded up his things as before, and
+with a satisfied mind locked them up in his box until the next day. His
+skull was sufficiently shaved; but, after careful examination, Akim
+Akimitch came to the conclusion that it was not in good condition, his
+hair had imperceptibly sprung up. He accordingly went immediately to the
+"Major" to be properly shaved according to the rules. In reality no one
+would have dreamed of looking at him next day, but he was acting
+conscientiously in order to fulfil all his duties. This care lest the
+smallest button, the least thread of an epaulette, the slightest string
+of a tassel should go wrong, was engraved in his mind as an imperious
+duty, and in his heart as the image of the most perfect order that could
+possibly be attained. As one of the "old hands" in the barracks, he saw
+that hay was brought and strewed about on the floor; the same thing was
+done in the other barracks. I do not know why, but hay was always
+strewed on the ground at Christmas time.
+
+As soon as Akim Akimitch had finished his work he said his prayers,
+stretched himself on his bed, and went to sleep, with the sleep of a
+child, in order to wake up as early as possible the next day. The other
+convicts did the same. It must be added that all of them went to bed,
+but sooner than usual. They gave up their ordinary evening work that
+day. As for playing cards, no one would have dared even to speak of such
+a thing; every one was anxiously expecting the next morning.
+
+At last this morning arrived. At an early hour, even before it was
+light, the drum was sounded, and the under officer, whose duty it was to
+count the convicts, wished them a happy Christmas. The prisoners
+answered him in an affable and amiable tone by expressing a like wish.
+Akim Akimitch, and many others, who had their geese and their
+sucking-pigs, went to the kitchen, after saying their prayers, in a
+hurried manner to see where their victuals were and how they were being
+cooked.
+
+Through the little windows of our barracks, half hidden by the snow and
+the ice, could be seen, flaring in the darkness, the bright fire of the
+two kitchens where six stoves had been lighted. In the court-yard, where
+it was still dark, the convicts, each with a half pelisse round his
+shoulders, or perhaps fully dressed, were hurrying towards the kitchen.
+Some of them, meanwhile--a very small number--had already visited the
+drink-sellers. They were the impatient ones, but they behaved
+becomingly, possibly much better than on ordinary days; neither quarrels
+nor insults were heard, every one understood that it was a great day, a
+great festival. The convicts went even to visit the other barracks in
+order to wish the inmates a happy Christmas; that day a sort of
+friendship seemed to exist between them all. I will remark in passing
+that the convicts have scarcely ever any intimate friendships. It was
+very rare to see a man on confidential terms with any other man, as, in
+the outer world. We were generally harsh and abrupt in our mutual
+relations. With some rare exceptions this was the general tone adopted
+and maintained.
+
+I went out of the barracks like the others. It was beginning to get
+late. The stars were paling, a light, icy mist was rising from the
+earth, and spirals of smoke were ascending in curls from the chimneys.
+Several convicts whom I met wished me, with affability, a happy
+Christmas. I thanked them and returned their wishes. Some of them had
+never spoken to me before.
+
+Near the kitchen, a convict from the military barracks, with his
+sheepskin on his shoulder, came up to me. Recognising me, he called out
+from the middle of the court-yard, "Alexander Petrovitch." He ran
+towards me. I waited for him. He was a young fellow, with a round face
+and soft eyes, and not at all communicative as a rule. He had not spoken
+to me since my arrival, and seemed never to have noticed me. I did not
+know on my side what his name was. When he came up, he remained planted
+before me, smiling with a vacuous smile, but with a happy expression of
+countenance.
+
+"What do you want?" I asked, not without astonishment.
+
+He remained standing before me, still smiling and staring, but without
+replying to my question.
+
+"Why, it is Christmas Day," he muttered.
+
+He understood that he had nothing more to say, and now hastened into the
+kitchen.
+
+I must add that, after this we scarcely ever met, and that we never
+spoke to one another again.
+
+Round the flaming stoves of the kitchen the convicts were rubbing and
+pushing against one another. Every one was watching his own property.
+The cooks were preparing the dinner, which was to take place a little
+earlier than usual. No one began to eat before the time, though a good
+many wished to do so; but it was necessary to be well-behaved before the
+others. We were waiting for the priest, and the fast preceding Christmas
+would not be at an end until his arrival.
+
+It was not yet perfectly light, when the corporal was already heard
+shouting out from behind the principal gate of the prison:
+
+"The kitchen; the kitchen."
+
+These calls were repeated without interruption for about two hours. The
+cooks were wanted in order to receive gifts brought from all parts of
+the town in enormous numbers; loaves of white bread, scones, rusks,
+pancakes, and pastry of various kinds. I do not think there was a
+shop-keeper in the whole town who did not send something to the
+"unfortunates." Amongst these gifts there were some magnificent ones,
+including a good many cakes of the finest flour. There were also some
+very poor ones, such as rolls worth two kopecks a piece, and a couple of
+brown rolls, covered lightly over with sour cream. These were the
+offerings of the poor to the poor, on which a last kopeck had often been
+spent.
+
+All these gifts were accepted with equal gratitude, without reference to
+the value or the giver. The convicts, on receiving the offerings, took
+off their caps and thanked the donors with low bows, wishing them a
+happy Christmas, and then carried the things to the kitchen.
+
+When a number of loaves and cakes had been collected, the elders of each
+barrack were called, and it was for them to divide the whole in equal
+portions among all the sections. The division excited neither protest
+nor annoyance. It was made honestly, equitably. Akim Akimitch, helped by
+another prisoner, divided between the convicts of our barracks the share
+assigned to us, and gave to each of us what came to him. Every one was
+satisfied. No objection was made by any one. There was not the least
+manifestation of envy, and it occurred to no one to deceive another.
+
+When Akim Akimitch had finished at the kitchen, he proceeded religiously
+to dress himself, and did so with a solemn air. He buttoned up his
+waistcoat button by button, in the most punctilious manner. Then, when
+he had got his new clothes on, he went to pray, which occupied him a
+considerable time. Numbers of convicts fulfilled their religious duties,
+but these were for the most part old men. The young men scarcely ever
+prayed. The most they did was to make the sign of the cross when they
+rose from table, and that happened only on festival days.
+
+Akim Akimitch came up to me as soon as he had finished his prayer, to
+express to me the usual good wishes. I invited him to have some tea, and
+he returned my politeness by offering me some of his sucking-pig. After
+some time Petroff came up to address to me the usual compliments. I
+think he had been already drinking, and although he seemed to have much
+to say, he scarcely spoke. He stood up before me for some seconds, and
+then went back to the kitchen. The priest was now expected in the
+military section of the barracks. This section was not constructed like
+the others. The camp-bedsteads were arranged all along the wall, and not
+in the middle of the room as in all the others, so that it was the only
+one in which the middle was not obstructed. It had been probably
+arranged in this manner so that in case of necessity it might be easier
+to assemble the convicts. A small table had been prepared in the middle
+of the room, and a holy image placed upon it, before which burned a
+little lamp.
+
+At last the priest arrived, with the cross and holy water. He prayed and
+chanted before the image, and then turned towards the convicts, who one
+after the other came and kissed the cross. The priest then walked
+through all the barracks, sprinkling them with holy water. When he got
+to the kitchen he praised the bread of the convict prison, which had
+quite a reputation in town. The convicts at once expressed a desire to
+send him two loaves of new bread, still hot, which an old soldier was
+ordered to take to his house forthwith. The convicts walked back after
+the cross with the same respect as they had received it. Almost
+immediately afterwards, the Major and the Commandant arrived. The
+Commandant was liked, and even respected. He made the tour of the
+barracks in company with the Major, wished the convicts a happy
+Christmas, went into the kitchen, and tasted the cabbage soup. It was
+excellent that day. Each convict was entitled to nearly a pound of meat,
+besides which there was millet-seed in it, and certainly the butter had
+not been spared. The Major saw the Commandant to the door, and then
+ordered the convicts to begin dinner. Each endeavoured not to be under
+the Major's eyes. They did not like his spiteful, inquisitorial look
+from behind his spectacles as he wandered from right to left, seeking
+apparently some disorder to repress, some crime to punish.
+
+We dined. Akim Akimitch's sucking-pig was admirably roasted. I could
+never understand how, five minutes after the Major left, there was a
+mass of drunken prisoners, whereas as long as he remained every one was
+perfectly calm. Red, radiant faces were now numerous, and the balalaiki
+[Russian banjoes] soon appeared. Then came the little Pole, playing his
+violin, a convivial prisoner having engaged him for the whole day to
+play lively dance-tunes. The conversation became more animated and more
+noisy, but the dinner ended without great disorders. Every one had had
+enough. Some of the old men, serious-minded convicts, went immediately
+to bed. So did Akim Akimitch, who probably thought it was a duty to go
+to sleep after dinner on festival days.
+
+The "old believer" from Starodoub, after having slumbered a little,
+climbed up on to the top of the stove, opened his book, and prayed the
+entire day until late in the evening without interruption. The spectacle
+of so shameless an orgie was painful to him, he said. All the
+Circassians left the table. They looked with curiosity, but with a touch
+of disgust, at this drunken society. I met Nourra.
+
+"Aman, aman," he said, with a burst of honest indignation, and shaking
+his head. "What an offence to Allah!" Isaiah Fomitch lighted, with an
+arrogant and obstinate air, a candle in his favourite corner, and went
+to work in order to show that in his eyes this was no holiday. Here and
+there card parties were arranged. The convicts did not fear the old
+soldiers, but men were placed on the look-out in case the under officer
+should suddenly come in. He made a point, however, of seeing nothing.
+The officer of the guard made altogether three rounds. The prisoners, if
+they were drunk, hid themselves at once. The cards disappeared in the
+twinkling of an eye. I fancy that he had made up his mind not to notice
+any contraventions of an unimportant kind. Drunkenness was not an
+offence that day. Little by little every one became more or less gay.
+Then there were some quarrels. The greater number of the prisoners,
+however, remained calm, amusing themselves with the spectacle of those
+who were intoxicated. Some of these drank without limit.
+
+Gazin was triumphant. He walked about with a self-satisfied air, by the
+side of his camp bedstead, beneath which he had concealed his spirits,
+previously buried beneath the snow behind the barracks, in a secret
+place. He smiled knowingly when he saw customers arrive in crowds. He
+was perfectly calm. He had drunk nothing at all; for it was his
+intention to regale himself the last day of the holidays, after he had
+emptied the pockets of the other prisoners. Throughout the barracks the
+drunkenness was becoming infernal. Singing was heard, and the songs were
+giving way to tears. Some of the prisoners walked about in bands,
+sheepskin on shoulder, striking with a haughty air the strings of their
+balalaiki. A chorus of from eight to ten men had been formed in the
+special section. The singing here was excellent, with its accompaniments
+of balalaiki and guitars.
+
+Songs of a truly popular kind were rare. I remember one which was
+admirably sung:
+
+
+     Yesterday, I, a young girl,
+     Went to the feast.
+
+
+A variation was introduced previously unknown to me. At the end of the
+song these lines were added:
+
+
+     At my house, the house of a young girl,
+     Everything is in order.
+     I have washed the spoons,
+     I have turned out the cabbage-soup,
+     I have wiped down the panels of the door,
+     I have cooked the patties.
+
+
+What they chiefly sang were prison songs; one of them, called "As it
+happened," was very humorous. It related how a man amused himself, and
+lived like a prince until he was sent to the convict prison, where he
+fared very differently. Another song, only too popular, set forth how
+the hero of it had formerly possessed capital, but had now nothing but
+captivity. Here is a true convict's song:
+
+
+     The day breaks in the heavens,
+     We are waked up by the drum.
+     The old man opens the door,
+     The warder comes and calls us.
+     No one sees us behind the prison walls,
+     Nor how we live in this place.
+     But God, the Heavenly Creator, is with us
+     He will not let us perish.
+
+
+Another still more melancholy, but with a superb melody, was sung to
+tame and incorrect words. I can remember a few of the verses:
+
+
+     My eyes no more will see the land,
+     Where I was born;
+     To suffer torments undeserved,
+     Will be my punishment.
+     The owl will shriek upon the roof,
+     And raise the echoes of the forest.
+     My heart is broken down with grief.
+     No, never more shall I return.
+
+
+This song is often sung; not as a chorus, but always as a solo. When the
+work is over, a prisoner goes out of the barracks, sits down on the
+threshold, meditates with his chin resting on his hand, and then drawls
+out his song in a high falsetto. One listens to him, and the effect is
+heart-breaking. Some of our convicts had beautiful voices.
+
+Meanwhile it was getting dusk. Wearisomeness and general depression were
+making themselves felt through the drunkenness and the debauchery. The
+prisoner, who an hour beforehand was holding his sides with laughter,
+now sobbed in a corner, exceedingly drunk; others were fighting, or
+wandering in a tottering manner through the barracks, pale, very pale,
+and seeking whom to quarrel with. These poor people had wished to pass
+the great festival in the most joyous manner, but, gracious heaven, how
+painful the day was for all of them! They had passed it in the vague
+hope of a happiness that was not to be realised. Petroff came up to me
+twice. As he had drunk very little he was calm; but until the last
+moment he expected something which he made sure would happen, something
+extraordinary, and highly diverting. Although he said nothing about it,
+this could be seen from his looks. He ran from barrack to barrack
+without fatigue. Nothing, however, happened; nothing except general
+intoxication, idiotic insults from drunkards, and general giddiness of
+heated heads.
+
+Sirotkin wandered about also, dressed in a brand-new red shirt, going
+from barrack to barrack, and good-looking as usual. He also was on the
+watch for something to happen. The spectacle became insupportably
+repulsive, indeed nauseating. There were some laughable things, but I
+was too sad to be amused by them. I felt a deep pity for all these men,
+and felt strangled, stifled, in the midst of them. Here two convicts
+were disputing as to which should treat the other. The dispute lasts a
+long time; they have almost come to blows. One of them has, for a long
+time past, had a grudge against the other. He complains, stammering as
+he does so, and tries to prove to his companion that he acted unjustly
+when, a year before, he sold a pelisse and concealed the money. There
+was more than this too. The complainant is a tall young fellow, with
+good muscular development, quiet, by no means stupid, but who, when he
+is drunk, wishes to make friends with every one, and to pour out his
+grief into their bosom. He insults his adversary with the intention of
+becoming reconciled to him later on. The other man, a big, massive
+person, with a round face, as cunning as a fox, had perhaps drunk more
+than his companion, but appeared only slightly intoxicated. This convict
+has character, and passes for a rich man; he has probably no interest in
+irritating his companion, and he accordingly leads him to one of the
+drink-sellers. The expansive friend declares that his companion owes him
+money, and that he is bound to stand him a drink "if he has any
+pretensions to be considered an honest man."
+
+The drink-seller, not without some respect for his customer, and with a
+touch of contempt for the expansive friend (for he was drinking at the
+expense of another man), took a glass and filled it with vodka.
+
+"No, Stepka, you must pay, because you owe me money."
+
+"I won't tire my tongue talking to you any longer," replied Stepka.
+
+"No, Stepka, you lie," continues his friend, taking up a glass offered
+to him by the drink-seller. "You owe me money, and you must be without
+conscience. You have not a thing about you that you have not borrowed,
+and I don't believe your very eyes are your own. In a word, Stepka, you
+are a blackguard."
+
+"What are you whining about? Look, you are spilling your vodka."
+
+"If you are being treated, why don't you drink?" cries the drink-seller,
+to the expansive friend. "I cannot wait here until to-morrow."
+
+"I will drink, don't be frightened. What are you crying out about? My
+best wishes for the day. My best wishes for the day, Stepan Doroveitch,"
+replies the latter politely, as he bows, glass in hand, towards Stepka,
+whom the moment before he had called a blackguard. "Good health to you,
+and may you live a hundred years in addition to what you have lived
+already." He drinks, gives a grunt of satisfaction, and wipes his mouth.
+"What quantities of brandy I have drunk," he says, gravely speaking to
+every one, without addressing any one in particular, "but I have
+finished now. Thank me, Stepka Doroveitch."
+
+"There is nothing to thank you for."
+
+"Ah! you won't thank me. Then I will tell every one how you have treated
+me, and, moreover, that you are a blackguard."
+
+"Then I shall have something to tell you, drunkard that you are,"
+interrupts Stepka, who at last loses patience. "Listen and pay
+attention. Let us divide the world in two. You shall take one half, I
+the other. Then I shall have peace."
+
+"Then you will not give me back my money?"
+
+"What money do you want, drunkard?"
+
+"My money. It is the sweat of my brow; the labour of my hands. You will
+be sorry for it in the other world. You will be roasted for those five
+kopecks."
+
+"Go to the devil."
+
+"What are you driving me for? Am I a horse?"
+
+"Be off, be off."
+
+"Blackguard!"
+
+"Convict!"
+
+And the insults exchanged were worse than they had been before the visit
+to the drink-seller.
+
+Two friends are seated separately on two camp-bedsteads. One is tall,
+vigorous, fleshy, with a red face--a regular butcher. He is on the point
+of weeping; for he has been much moved. The other is tall, thin,
+conceited, with an immense nose, which always seems to have a cold, and
+little blue eyes fixed upon the ground. He is a clever, well-bred man,
+and was formerly a secretary. He treats his friend with a little
+disdain, which the latter cannot stand. They have been drinking together
+all day.
+
+"You have taken a liberty with me," cries the stout one, as with his
+left hand he shakes the head of his companion. To take a liberty
+signifies, in convict language, to strike. This convict, formerly a
+non-commissioned officer, envies in secret the elegance of his
+neighbour, and endeavours to make up for his material grossness by
+refined conversation.
+
+"I tell you, you are wrong," says the secretary, in a dogmatic tone,
+with his eyes obstinately fixed on the ground, and without looking at
+his companion.
+
+"You struck me. Do you hear?" continues the other, still shaking his
+dear friend. "You are the only man in the world I care for; but you
+shall not take a liberty with me."
+
+"Confess, my dear fellow," replies the secretary, "that all this is the
+result of too much drink."
+
+The corpulent friend falls back with a stagger, looks stupidly with his
+drunken eyes at the secretary, and suddenly, with all his might, sends
+his fist into the secretary's thin face. Thus terminates the day's
+friendship.
+
+The dear friend disappears beneath the camp-bedstead unconscious.
+
+One of my acquaintances enters the barracks. He is a convict of the
+special section, very good-natured, and gay, far from stupid, and
+jocular without malice. He is the man who, on my arrival at the convict
+prison, was looking out for a rich peasant, who spoke so much of his
+self-respect, and ended by drinking my tea. He was forty years old, had
+enormous lips, and a fat, fleshy, red nose. He held a balalaika, and
+struck negligently its strings. He was followed by a little convict,
+with a large head, whom I knew very little, and to whom no one paid any
+attention. Now that he was drunk he had attached himself to Vermaloff,
+and followed him like his shadow, at the same time gesticulating and
+striking with his fist the wall and the camp-bedsteads. He was almost in
+tears. Vermaloff did not notice him any more than if he had not existed.
+The most curious point was that these two men in no way resembled one
+another, neither by their occupations nor by their disposition. They
+belonged to different sections, and lived in separate barracks. The
+little convict was named Bulkin.
+
+Vermaloff smiled when he saw me seated by the stove. He stopped at some
+distance from me, reflected for a moment, tottered, and then came
+towards me with an affected swagger. Then he swept the strings of his
+instrument, and sung, or recited, tapping at the same time with his boot
+on the ground, the following chant:
+
+
+     My darling!
+     With her full, fair face,
+     Sings like a nightingale;
+     In her satin dress,
+     With its brilliant trimming,
+     She is very fair.
+
+
+This song excited Bulkin in an extraordinary manner. He agitated his
+arms, and shrieked out to every one: "He lies, my friends; he lies like
+a quack doctor. There is not a shadow of truth in what he sings."
+
+"My respects to the venerable Alexander Petrovitch," said Vermaloff,
+looking at me with a knowing smile. I fancied even he wished to embrace
+me. He was drunk. As for the expression, "My respects to the venerable
+so-and-so," it is employed by the common people throughout Siberia, even
+when addressed to a young man of twenty. To call a man old is a sign of
+respect, and may amount even to flattery.
+
+"Well, Vermaloff, how are you?" I replied.
+
+"So, so. Nothing to boast of. Those who really enjoy the holiday have
+been drinking since early morning."
+
+Vermaloff did not speak very distinctly.
+
+"He lies; he lies again," said Bulkin, striking the camp-bedsteads with
+a sort of despair.
+
+One might have sworn that Vermaloff had given his word of honour not to
+pay any attention to him. That was really the most comic thing about it;
+for Bulkin had not quitted him for one moment since the morning. Always
+with him, he quarrelled with Vermaloff about every word; wringing his
+hands, and striking with his fists against the wall and the camp
+bedsteads till he made them bleed, he suffered visibly from his
+conviction that Vermaloff "lied like a quack doctor." If Bulkin had had
+hair on his head, he would certainly have torn it in his grief, in his
+profound mortification. One might have thought that he had made himself
+responsible for Vermaloff's actions, and that all Vermaloff's faults
+troubled his conscience. The amusing part of it was that Vermaloff
+continued.
+
+"He lies! He lies! He lies!" cried Bulkin.
+
+"What can it matter to you?" replied the convicts, with a laugh.
+
+"I must tell you, Alexander Petrovitch, that I was very good-looking
+when I was a young man, and the young girls were very fond of me," said
+Vermaloff suddenly.
+
+"He lies! He lies!" again interrupted Bulkin, with a groan. The convicts
+burst into a laugh.
+
+"And well I got myself up to please them. I had a red shirt, and broad
+trousers of cotton velvet. I was happy in those days. I got up when I
+liked; did whatever I pleased. In fact----"
+
+"He lies," declared Bulkin.
+
+"I inherited from my father a stone house, two storeys high. Within two
+years I made away with the two storeys; nothing remained to me but the
+street door. Well, what of that. Money comes and goes like a bird."
+
+"He lies!" declared Bulkin, more resolutely than before.
+
+"Then when I had spent all, I sent a letter to my relations, that they
+might send me some money. They said that I had set their will at naught,
+that I was disrespectful. It is now seven years since I sent off my
+letter."
+
+"And any answer?" I asked, with a smile.
+
+"No," he replied, also laughing, and almost putting his nose in my face.
+
+He then informed me that he had a sweetheart.
+
+"You a sweetheart?"
+
+"Onufriel said to me the other day: 'My young woman is marked with
+small-pox, and as ugly as you like; but she has plenty of dresses, while
+yours, though she may be pretty, is a beggar.'"
+
+"Is that true?"
+
+"Certainly, she is a beggar," he answered.
+
+He burst into a laugh, and the others laughed with him. Every one indeed
+knew that he had a _liaison_ with a beggar woman, to whom he gave ten
+kopecks every six months.
+
+"Well, what do you want with me?" I said to him, wishing at last to get
+rid of him.
+
+He remained silent, and then, looking at me in the most insinuating
+manner, said:
+
+"Could not you let me have enough money to buy half-a-pint? I have drunk
+nothing but tea the whole day," he added, as he took from me the money I
+offered him; "and tea affects me in such a manner that I am afraid of
+becoming asthmatic. It gives me the wind."
+
+When he took the money I offered him, the despair of Bulkin went beyond
+all bounds. He gesticulated like a man possessed.
+
+"Good people all," he cried, "the man lies. Everything he
+says--everything is a lie."
+
+"What can it matter to you?" cried the convicts, astonished at his
+goings on. "You are possessed."
+
+"I will not allow him to lie," continued Bulkin, rolling his eyes, and
+striking his fist with energy on the boards. "He shall not lie."
+
+Every one laughed. Vermaloff bowed to me after receiving the money, and
+hastened, with many grimaces, to go to the drink-seller. Then only he
+noticed Bulkin.
+
+"Come!" he said to him, as if the latter were indispensable for the
+execution of some design. "Idiot!" he added, with contempt, as Bulkin
+passed before him.
+
+But enough about this tumultuous scene, which, at last, came to an end.
+The convicts went to sleep heavily on their camp-bedsteads. They spoke
+and raged during their sleep more than on the other nights. Here and
+there they still continued to play at cards. The festival looked forward
+to with such impatience was now over, and to-morrow the daily work, the
+hard labour, will begin again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE PERFORMANCE.
+
+
+On the evening of the third day of the holidays took place our first
+theatrical performance. There had been much trouble about organising it.
+But those who were to act had taken everything upon themselves, and the
+other convicts knew nothing about the representation except that it was
+to take place. We did not even know what was to be played. The actors,
+while they were at work, were always thinking how they could get
+together the greatest number of costumes. Whenever I met Baklouchin he
+snapped his fingers with satisfaction, but told me nothing. I think the
+Major was in a good humour; but we did not know for certain whether he
+knew what was going on or not, whether he had authorised it, or whether
+he had determined to shut his eyes and be silent, after assuring himself
+that everything would take place quietly. He had heard, I fancy, of the
+meditated representation, and said nothing about it, lest he should
+spoil everything. The soldiers would be disorderly, or would get drunk,
+unless they had something to divert them. Thus I think the Major must
+have reasoned, for it will be only natural to do so. I may add that if
+the convicts had not got up a performance during the holidays, or done
+something of the kind, the administration would have been obliged to
+organise some sort of amusement; but as our Major was distinguished by
+ideas directly opposed to those of other people, I take a great
+responsibility on myself in saying that he knew of our project and
+authorised it. A man like him must always be crushing and stifling some
+one, taking something away, depriving some one of a right--in a word,
+for establishing order of this character he was known throughout the
+town.
+
+It mattered nothing to him that his exactions made the men rebellious.
+For such offences there were suitable punishments (there are some people
+who reason in this way), and with these rascals of convicts there was
+nothing to do but to treat them very severely, deal with them strictly
+according to law. These incapable executants of the law did not in the
+least understand that to apply the law without understanding its spirit
+is to provoke resistance. They are quite astonished that, in addition to
+the execution of the law, good sense and a sound head should be expected
+from them. The last condition would appear to them quite superfluous; to
+require such a thing is vexatious, intolerant.
+
+However this may be, the Sergeant-Major made no objection to the
+performance, and that was all the convicts wanted. I may say in all
+truth that if throughout the holidays there were no disorders in the
+convict prison, no sanguinary quarrels, no robberies, that must be
+attributed to the convicts being permitted to organise their
+performance. I saw with my own eyes how they got out of the way of those
+of their companions who had drunk too much, and how they prevented
+quarrels on the ground that the representation would be forbidden. The
+non-commissioned officer made the prisoners give their word of honour
+that they would behave well, and that all would go off quietly. They
+gave it with pleasure, and kept their promise religiously. They were
+much flattered at finding their word of honour accepted. Let me add that
+the representation cost nothing, absolutely nothing, to the
+authorities, who were not called upon to spend a farthing. The theatre
+could be put up and taken down within a quarter of an hour; and, in case
+an order stopping the performance suddenly arrived, the scenery could
+have been put away in a second. The costumes were concealed in the
+convicts' boxes; but first of all let me say how our theatre was
+constructed, what were the costumes, and what the bill, that is to say,
+the pieces that were to be played. To tell the truth, there was no
+written playbill, not, at least, for the first representation. It was
+ready only for the second and third. Baklouchin composed it for the
+officers and other distinguished visitors who might deign to honour the
+performance with their presence, including the officer of the guard, the
+officer of the watch, and an Engineer officer. It was in honour of these
+that the playbill was written out.
+
+It was supposed that the reputation of our theatre would extend to the
+fortress, and even to the town, especially as there was no theatre at
+N----: a few amateur performances, but nothing more. The convicts
+delighted in the smallest success, and boasted of it like children.
+
+"Who knows?" they said to one another; "when our chiefs hear of it they
+will perhaps come and see. Then they will know what convicts are worth,
+for this is not a performance given by soldiers, but a genuine piece
+played by genuine actors; nothing like it could be seen anywhere in the
+town. General Abrosimoff had a representation at his house, and it is
+said he will have another. Well, they may beat us in the matter of
+costumes, but as for the dialogue that is a very different thing. The
+Governor himself will perhaps hear of it, and--who knows?--he may come
+himself."
+
+They had no theatre in the town. In a word, the imagination of the
+convicts, above all after their first success, went so far as to make
+them think that rewards would be distributed to them, and that their
+period of hard labour would be shortened. A moment afterwards they were
+the first to laugh at this fancy. In a word, they were children, true
+children, when they were forty years of age. I knew in a general way the
+subjects of the pieces that were to be represented, although there was
+no bill. The title of the first was _Philatka and Miroshka Rivals_.
+Baklouchin boasted to me, at least a week before the performance, that
+the part of Philatka, which he had assigned to himself, would be played
+in such a manner that nothing like it had ever been seen, even on the
+St. Petersburg stage. He walked about in the barracks puffed up with
+boundless importance. If now and then he declaimed a speech from his
+part in the theatrical style, every one burst out laughing, whether the
+speech was amusing or not; they laughed because he had forgotten
+himself. It must be admitted that the convicts, as a body, were
+self-contained and full of dignity; the only ones who got enthusiastic
+at Baklouchin's tirades were the young ones, who had no false shame, or
+those who were much looked up to, and whose authority was so firmly
+established that they were not afraid to commit themselves. The others
+listened silently, without blaming or contradicting, but they did their
+best to show that the performance left them indifferent.
+
+It was not until the very last moment, the very day of the
+representation, that every one manifested genuine interest in what our
+companions had undertaken. "What," was the general question, "would the
+Major say? Would the performance succeed as well as the one given two
+years before?" etc., etc. Baklouchin assured me that all the actors
+would be quite at home on the stage, and that there would even be a
+curtain. Sirotkin was to play a woman's part. "You will see how well I
+look in women's clothes," he said. The Lady Bountiful was to have a
+dress with skirts and trimmings, besides a parasol; while her husband,
+the Lord of the Manor, was to wear an officer's uniform, with
+epaulettes, and a cane in his hand.
+
+The second piece that was to be played was entitled, _Kedril, the
+Glutton_. The title puzzled me much, but it was useless to ask any
+questions about it. I could only learn that the piece was not printed;
+it was a manuscript copy obtained from a retired non-commissioned
+officer in the town, who had doubtless formerly participated in its
+representation on some military stage. We have, indeed, in the distant
+towns and governments, a number of pieces of this kind, which, I
+believe, are perfectly unknown and have never been printed, but which
+appear to have grown up of themselves, in connection with the popular
+theatre, in certain zones of Russia. I have spoken of the popular
+theatre. It would be a good thing if our investigators of popular
+literature would take the trouble to make careful researches as to this
+popular theatre which exists, and which, perhaps, is not so
+insignificant as may be thought.
+
+I cannot think that everything I saw on the stage of our convict prison
+was the work of our convicts. It must have sprung from old traditions
+handed down from generation to generation, and preserved among the
+soldiers, the workmen in industrial towns, and even the shopkeepers in
+some poor, out-of-the-way places. These traditions have been preserved
+in some villages and some Government towns by the servants of the large
+landed proprietors. I even believe that copies of many old pieces have
+been multiplied by these servants of the nobility.
+
+The old Muscovite proprietors and nobles had their own theatres, in
+which their servants used to play. Thence comes our popular theatre, the
+originals of which are beyond discussion. As for _Kedril, the Glutton_,
+in spite of my lively curiosity, I could learn nothing about it, except
+that demons appeared on the stage and carried Kedril away to hell. What
+did the name of Kedril signify? Why was he called Kedril and not Cyril?
+Was the name Russian or foreign? I could not resolve this question.
+
+It was announced that the representation would terminate with a musical
+pantomime. All this promised to be very curious. The actors were
+fifteen in number, all vivacious men. They were very energetic, got up a
+number of rehearsals which sometimes took place behind the barracks,
+kept away from the others, and gave themselves mysterious airs. They
+evidently wished to surprise us with something extraordinary and
+unexpected.
+
+On work days the barracks were shut very early as night approached, but
+an exception was made during the Christmas holidays, when the padlocks
+were not put to the gates until the evening retreat--nine o'clock. This
+favour had been granted specially in view of the play. During the whole
+duration of the holidays a deputation was sent every evening to the
+officer of the guard very humbly "to permit the representation and not
+to shut at the usual hour." It was added that there had been previous
+representations, and that nothing disorderly had occurred at any of
+them.
+
+The officer of the guard must have reasoned as follows: There was no
+disorder, no infraction of discipline at the previous performance, and
+the moment they give their word that to-night's performance shall take
+place in the same manner, they mean to be their own police--the most
+rigorous police of all. Moreover, he knew well that if he took it upon
+himself to forbid the representation, these fellows (who knows, and with
+convicts?) would have committed some offence which would have placed the
+officer of the guard in a very difficult position. One final reason
+insured his consent: To mount guard is horribly tiresome, and if he
+authorised the performance he would see the play acted, not by soldiers,
+but by convicts, a curious set of people. It would certainly be
+interesting, and he had a right to be present at it.
+
+In case the superior officer arrived and asked for the officer of the
+guard, he would be told that the latter had gone to count the convicts
+and close the barracks; an answer which could easily be made, and which
+could not be disproved. That is why our superintendents authorised the
+performance; and throughout the holidays the barracks were kept open
+each evening until the retreat. The convicts had known beforehand that
+they would meet with no opposition from the officer of the guard. They
+were quite quiet about him.
+
+Towards six o'clock Petroff came to look for me, and we went together to
+the theatre. Nearly all the prisoners of our barracks were there, with
+the exception of the "old believer" from Tchernigoff, and the Poles. The
+latter did not decide to be present until the last day of the
+representation, the 4th of January, after they had been assured that
+everything would be managed in a becoming manner. The haughtiness of the
+Poles irritated our convicts. Accordingly they were received on the 4th
+of January with formal politeness, and conducted to the best places. As
+for the Circassians and Isaiah Fomitch, the play was for them a genuine
+delight. Isaiah Fomitch gave three kopecks each time, except the last,
+when he placed ten kopecks on the plate; and how happy he looked!
+
+The actors had decided that each spectator should give what he thought
+fit. The receipts were to cover the expenses, and anything beyond was to
+go to the actors. Petroff assured me that I should be allowed to have
+one of the best places, however full the theatre might be; first,
+because being richer than the others, there was a probability of my
+giving more; and, secondly, because I knew more about acting than any
+one else. What he had foreseen took place. But let me first describe the
+theatre.
+
+The barrack of the military section, which had been turned into the
+theatre, was fifteen feet long. From the court-yard one entered, first
+an ante-chamber, and afterwards the barrack itself. The building was
+arranged, as I have already mentioned, in a particular manner, the beds
+being placed against the wall, so as to leave an open space in the
+middle. One half of the barrack was reserved for the spectators, while
+the other, which communicated with the second building, formed the
+stage. What astonished me directly I entered, was the curtain, which was
+about ten feet long, and divided the barrack into two. It was indeed a
+marvel, for it was painted in oil, and represented trees, tunnels,
+ponds, and stars.
+
+It was made of pieces of linen, old and new, given by the convicts;
+shirts, the bandages which our peasants wrap round their feet in lieu of
+socks, all sewn together well or ill, and forming together an immense
+sheet. Where there was not enough linen, it had been replaced by writing
+paper, taken sheet by sheet from the various office bureaus. Our
+painters (among whom we had our Bruloff) had painted it all over, and
+the effect was very remarkable.
+
+This luxurious curtain delighted the convicts, even the most sombre and
+most morose. These, however, like the others, as soon as the play began,
+showed themselves mere children. They were all pleased and satisfied
+with a certain satisfaction of vanity. The theatre was lighted with
+candle ends. Two benches, which had been brought from the kitchen, were
+placed before the curtain, together with three or four large chairs,
+borrowed from the non-commissioned officers' room. These chairs were for
+the officers, should they think fit to honour the performance. As for
+the benches, they were for the non-commissioned officers, engineers,
+clerks, directors of the works, and all the immediate superiors of the
+convicts who had not officer's rank, and who had come perhaps to take a
+look at the representation. In fact, there was no lack of visitors.
+According to the days, they came in greater or smaller numbers, while
+for the last representation there was not a single place unoccupied on
+the benches.
+
+At the back the convicts stood crowded together; standing up out of
+respect to the visitors, and dressed in their vests, or in their short
+pelisses, in spite of the suffocating heat. As might have been expected,
+the place was too small; so all the prisoners stood up, heaped
+together--above all in the last rows. The camp-bedsteads were all
+occupied; and there were some amateurs who disputed constantly behind
+the stage in the other barrack, and who viewed the performance from the
+back. I was asked to go forward, and Petroff with me, close to the
+benches, whence a good view could be obtained. They looked upon me as a
+good judge, a connoisseur, who had seen many other theatres. The
+convicts remarked that Baklouchin had often consulted me, and that he
+had shown deference to my advice. Consequently they thought that I ought
+to be treated with honour, and to have one of the best places. These men
+are vain and frivolous, but only on the surface. They laughed at me when
+I was at work, because I was a poor workman. Almazoff had a right to
+despise us gentlemen, and to boast of his superior skill in pounding the
+alabaster. His laughter and raillery were directed against our origin,
+for we belonged by birth to the caste of his former masters, of whom he
+could not preserve a good recollection; but here at the theatre these
+same men made way for me; for they knew that about this matter I knew
+more than they did. Those, even, who were not at all well disposed
+towards me, were glad to hear me praise the performance, and gave way to
+me without the least servility. I judged now by my impressions of that
+time. I understood that in this new view of theirs there was no lowering
+of themselves; rather a sentiment of their own dignity.
+
+The most striking characteristic of our people is its conscientiousness,
+and its love of justice; no false vanity, no sly ambition to reach the
+first rank without being entitled to do so; such faults are foreign to
+our people. Take it from its rough shell, and you will perceive, if you
+study it without prejudice, attentively, and close at hand, qualities
+which you would never have suspected. Our sages have very little to
+teach our people. I will even say more; they might take lessons from it.
+
+Petroff had told me innocently, on taking me into the theatre, that they
+would pass me to the front, because they expected more money from me.
+There were no fixed prices for the places. Each one gave what he liked,
+and what he could. Nearly every one placed a piece of money in the plate
+when it was handed round. Even if they had passed me forward in the hope
+that I should give more than others, was there not in that a certain
+feeling of personal dignity?
+
+"You are richer than I am. Go to the first row. We are all equal here,
+it is true; but you pay more, and the actors prefer a spectator like
+you. Occupy the first place then, for we are not here with money, and
+must arrange ourselves anyhow."
+
+What noble pride in this mode of action! In final analysis not love of
+money, but self-respect. There was little esteem for money among us. I
+do not remember that one of us ever lowered himself to obtain money.
+Some men used to make up to me, but from love of cunning and of fun
+rather than in the hope of obtaining any benefit. I do not know whether
+I explain myself clearly. I am, in any case, forgetting the performance.
+Let me return to it.
+
+Before the rise of the curtain, the room presented a strange and
+animated look. In the first place, the crowd pressed, crushed, jammed
+together on all sides, but impatient, full of expectation, every face
+glowing with delight. In the last ranks was the grovelling, confused
+mass of convicts. Many of them had brought with them logs of wood, which
+they placed against the wall, on which they climbed up. In this
+fatiguing position they paused to rest themselves by placing both hands
+on the shoulders of their companions, who seemed quite at ease. Others
+stood on their toes, with their heels against the stove, and thus
+remained throughout the representation, supported by those around them.
+Massed against the camp-bedsteads was another compact crowd; for here
+were some of the best places of all. Five convicts had hoisted
+themselves up to the top of the stove, whence they had a commanding
+view. These fortunate ones were extremely happy. Elsewhere swarmed the
+late arrivals, unable to find good places.
+
+Every one conducted himself in a becoming manner, without making any
+noise. Each one wished to show advantageously before the distinguished
+persons who were visiting us. Simple and natural was the expression of
+these red faces, damp with perspiration, as the rise of the curtain was
+eagerly expected. What a strange look of infinite delight, of unmixed
+pleasure, was painted on these scarred faces, these branded foreheads,
+so dark and menacing at ordinary times! They were all without their
+caps, and as I looked back at them from my place, it seemed to me that
+their heads were entirely shaved.
+
+Suddenly the signal is given, and the orchestra begins to play. This
+orchestra deserves a special mention. It consisted of eight musicians:
+two violins, one of which was the property of a convict, while the other
+had been borrowed from outside; three balalaiki, made by the convicts
+themselves; two guitars, and a tambourine. The violins sighed and
+shrieked, and the guitars were worthless, but the balalaiki were
+remarkably good; and the agile fingering of the artists would have done
+honour to the cleverest executant.
+
+They played scarcely anything but dance tunes. At the most exciting
+passages they struck with their fingers on the body of their
+instruments. The tone, the execution of the motive, were always original
+and distinctive. One of the guitarists knew his instrument thoroughly.
+It was the gentleman who had killed his father. As for the tambourinist,
+he really did wonders. Now he whirled round the disk, balanced on one of
+his fingers; now he rubbed the parchment with his thumb, and brought
+from it a countless multitude of notes, now dull, now brilliant.
+
+At last two harmonigers join the orchestra. I had no idea until then of
+all that could be done with these popular and vulgar instruments. I was
+astonished. The harmony, but, above all, the expression, the very
+conception of the motive, were admirably rendered. I then understood
+perfectly, and for the first time, the remarkable boldness, the
+striking abandonment, which are expressed in our popular dance tunes,
+and our village songs.
+
+At last the curtain rose. Every one made a movement. Those who were at
+the back raised themselves upon the point of their feet; some one fell
+down from his log. At once there were looks that enjoined silence. The
+performance now began.
+
+I was seated not far from Ali, who was in the midst of the group formed
+by his brothers and the other Circassians. They had a passionate love of
+the theatre, and did not miss one of our evenings. I have remarked that
+all the Mohammedans, Circassians, and so on, are fond of all kinds of
+representations. Near them was Isaiah Fomitch, quite in a state of
+ecstasy. As soon as the curtain rose he was all ears and eyes; his
+countenance expressed an expectation of something marvellous. I should
+have been grieved had he been disappointed. The charming face of Ali
+shone with a childish joy, so pure that I was quite happy to behold it.
+Involuntarily, whenever a general laugh echoed an amusing remark, I
+turned towards him to see his countenance. He did not notice it, he had
+something else to do.
+
+Near him, placed on the left, was a convict, already old, sombre,
+discontented, and always grumbling. He also had noticed Ali, and I saw
+him cast furtive glances more than once towards him, so charming was the
+young Circassian. The prisoners always called him Ali Simeonitch,
+without my knowing why.
+
+In the first piece, _Philatka and Miroshka_, Baklouchin, in the part of
+Philatka, was really marvellous. He played his r�le to perfection. It
+could be seen that he had weighed each speech, each movement. He managed
+to give to each word, each gesture, a meaning which responded perfectly
+to the character of the personage. Apart from the conscientious study he
+had made of the character, he was gay, simple, natural, irresistible. If
+you had seen Baklouchin you would certainly have said that he was a
+genuine actor, an actor by vocation, and of great talent. I have seen
+Philatka several times at the St. Petersburg and Moscow theatres, and I
+declare that none of our celebrated actors was equal to Baklouchin in
+this part. They were peasants, from no matter what country, and not true
+Russian moujiks. Moreover, their desire to be peasant-like was too
+apparent. Baklouchin was animated by emulation; for it was known that
+the convict Potsiakin was to play the part of Kedril in the second
+piece, and it was assumed--I do not know why--that the latter would show
+more talent than Baklouchin. The latter was as vexed by this preference
+as a child. How many times did he not come to me during the last days to
+tell me all he felt! Two hours before the representation he was attacked
+by fever. When the audience burst out laughing, and called out "Bravo,
+Baklouchin! what a fellow you are!" his figure shone with joy, and true
+inspiration could be read in his eyes. The scene of the kisses between
+Kiroshka and Philatka, in which the latter calls out to the daughter,
+"Wife, your mouth," and then wipes his own, was wonderfully comic. Every
+one burst out laughing.
+
+What interested me was the spectators. They were all at their ease, and
+gave themselves up frankly to their mirth. Cries of approbation became
+more and more numerous. A convict nudged his companion with his elbow,
+and hastily communicated his impressions, without even troubling himself
+to know who was by his side. When a comic song began, one man might be
+seen agitating his arms violently, as if to engage his companions to
+laugh; after which he turned suddenly towards the stage. A third smacked
+his tongue against his palate, and could not keep quiet a moment; but as
+there was not room for him to change his position, he hopped first on
+one leg, then on the other; towards the end of the piece the general
+gaiety attained its climax. I exaggerate nothing. Imagine the convict
+prison, chains, captivity, long years of confinement, of task-work, of
+monotonous life, falling away drop by drop like rain on an autumn day;
+imagine all this despair in presence of permission given to the convicts
+to amuse themselves, to breathe freely for an hour, to forget their
+nightmare, and to organise a play--and what a play! one that excited the
+envy and admiration of our town.
+
+"Fancy those convicts!" people said: everything interested them, take
+the costumes for instance. It seemed very strange, but then to see,
+Nietsvitaeff, or Baklouchin, in a different costume from the one they
+had worn for so many years.
+
+He is a convict, a genuine convict, whose chains ring when he walks; and
+there he is, out on the stage with a frock-coat, and a round hat, and a
+cloak, like any ordinary civilian. He has put on hair, moustaches. He
+takes a red handkerchief from his pocket and shakes it, like a real
+nobleman. What enthusiasm is created! The "good landlord" arrives in an
+aide-de-camp uniform, a very old one, it is true, but with epaulettes,
+and a cocked hat. The effect produced was indescribable. There had been
+two candidates for this costume, and--will it be believed?--they had
+quarrelled like two little schoolboys as to which of them should play
+the part. Both wanted to appear in military uniform with epaulettes. The
+other actors separated them, and, by a majority of voices, the part was
+entrusted to Nietsvitaeff; not because he was more suited to it than the
+other, and that he bore a greater resemblance to a nobleman, but only
+because he had assured them all that he would have a cane, and that he
+would twirl it and rap it out grand, like a true nobleman--a dandy of
+the latest fashion--which was more than Vanka and Ospiety could do,
+seeing they have never known any noblemen. In fact, when Nietsvitaeff
+went to the stage with his wife, he did nothing but draw circles on the
+floor with his light bamboo cane, evidently thinking that this was the
+sign of the best breeding, of supreme elegance. Probably in his
+childhood, when he was still a barefooted child, he had been attracted
+by the skill of some proprietor in twirling his cane, and this
+impression had remained in his memory, although thirty years afterwards.
+
+Nietsvitaeff was so occupied with his process that he saw no one, he
+gave the replies in his dialogue without even raising his eyes. The most
+important thing for him was the end of his cane, and the circles he drew
+with it. The Lady Bountiful was also very remarkable; she came on in an
+old worn-out muslin dress, which looked like a rag. Her arms and neck
+were bare. She had a little calico cap on her head, with strings under
+her chin, an umbrella in one hand, and in the other a fan of coloured
+paper, with which she constantly fanned herself. This great lady was
+welcomed with a wild laugh; she herself, too, was unable to restrain
+herself, and burst out more than once. The part was filled by the
+convict Ivanoff. As for Sirotkin, in his girl's dress, he looked
+exceedingly well. The couplets were all well sung. In a word, the piece
+was played to the satisfaction of every one; not the least hostile
+criticism was passed--who, indeed, was there to criticise? The air,
+"Sieni moi Sieni," was played again by way of overture, and the curtain
+again went up.
+
+_Kedril, the Glutton_, was now to be played. Kedril is a sort of Don
+Juan. This comparison may justly be made, for the master and the servant
+are both carried away by devils at the end of the piece; and the piece,
+as the convicts had it, was played quite correctly; but the beginning
+and the end must have been lost, for it had neither head nor tail. The
+scene is laid in an inn somewhere in Russia. The innkeeper introduces
+into a room a nobleman wearing a cloak and a battered round hat; the
+valet, Kedril, follows his master; he carries a valise, and a fowl
+rolled up in blue paper; he wears a short pelisse and a footman's cap.
+It is this fellow who is the glutton. The convict Potsiakin, the rival
+of Baklouchin, played this part, while the part of the nobleman was
+filled by Ivanoff, the same who played the great lady in the first
+piece. The innkeeper (Nietsvitaeff) warns the nobleman that the room is
+haunted by demons, and goes away; the nobleman is interested and
+preoccupied; he murmurs aloud that he has known that for a long time,
+and orders Kedril to unpack his things and to get supper ready.
+
+Kedril is a glutton and a coward. When he hears of devils he turns pale
+and trembles like a leaf; he would like to run away, but is afraid of
+his master; besides, he is hungry, he is voluptuous, he is sensual,
+stupid, though cunning in his way, and, as before said, a poltroon; he
+cheats his master every moment, though he fears him like fire. This type
+of servant is a remarkable one in which may be recognised the principal
+features of the character of Leporello, but indistinct and confused. The
+part was played in really superior style by Potsiakin, whose talent was
+beyond discussion, surpassing as it did in my opinion that of Baklouchin
+himself. But when the next day I spoke to Baklouchin I concealed my
+impression from him, knowing that it would give him bitter pain.
+
+As for the convict who played the part of the nobleman, it was not bad.
+Everything he said was without meaning, incomparable to anything I had
+ever heard before; but his enunciation was pure and his gestures
+becoming. While Kedril occupies himself with the valise, his master
+walks up and down, and announces that from that day forth he means to
+lead a quiet life. Kedril listens, makes grimaces, and amuses the
+spectators by his reflections "aside." He has no pity for his master,
+but he has heard of devils, would like to know what they are like, and
+thereupon questions him. The nobleman replies that some time ago, being
+in danger of death, he asked succour from hell. Then the devils aided
+and delivered him, but the term of his liberty has expired; and if the
+devils come that evening, it will be to exact his soul, as has been
+agreed in their compact. Kedril begins to tremble in earnest, but his
+master does not lose courage, and orders him to prepare the supper.
+Hearing of victuals, Kedril revives. Taking out a bottle of wine, he
+taps it on his own account. The audience expands with laughter; but the
+door grates on its hinges, the winds shakes the shutters, Kedril
+trembles, and hastily, almost without knowing what he is doing, puts
+into his mouth an enormous piece of fowl, which he is unable to swallow.
+There is another gust of wind.
+
+"Is it ready?" cries the master, still walking backwards and forwards in
+his room.
+
+"Directly, sir. I am preparing it," says Kedril, who sits down, and,
+taking care that his master does not see him, begins to eat the supper
+himself. The audience is evidently charmed with the cunning of the
+servant, who so cleverly makes game of the nobleman; and it must be
+admitted that Poseikin, the representative of the part, deserved high
+praise. He pronounced admirably the words: "Directly, sir.
+I--am--preparing--it."
+
+Kedril eats gradually, and at each mouthful trembles lest his master
+shall see him. Every time that the nobleman turns round Kedril hides
+under the table, holding the fowl in his hand. When he has appeased his
+hunger, he begins to think of his master.
+
+"Kedril, will it soon be ready?" cries the nobleman.
+
+"It is ready now," replies Kedril boldly, when all at once he perceives
+that there is scarcely anything left. Nothing remains but one leg. The
+master, still sombre and pre-occupied, notices nothing, and takes his
+seat, while Kedril places himself behind him with a napkin on his arm.
+Every word, every gesture, every grimace from the servant, as he turns
+towards the audience to laugh at his master's expense, excites the
+greatest mirth among the convicts. Just at the moment when the young
+nobleman begins to eat, the devils arrive. They resemble nothing human
+or terrestrial. The side-door opens, and the phantom appears dressed
+entirely in white, with a lighted lantern in lieu of a head, and with a
+scythe in its hand. Why the white dress, scythe, and lantern? No one
+could tell me, and the matter did not trouble the convicts. They were
+sure that this was the way it ought to be done. The master comes
+forward courageously to meet the apparitions, and calls out to them that
+he is ready, and that they can take him. But Kedril, as timid as a hare,
+hides under the table, not forgetting, in spite of his fright, to take a
+bottle with him. The devils disappear, Kedril comes out of his
+hiding-place, and the master begins to eat his fowl. Three devils enter
+the room, and seize him to take him to hell.
+
+"Save me, Kedril," he cries. But Kedril has something else to think of.
+He has now with him in his hiding-place not only the bottle, but also
+the plate of fowl and the bread. He is now alone. The demons are far
+away, and his master also. Kedril gets from under the table, looks all
+round, and suddenly his face beams with joy. He winks, like the rogue he
+is, sits down in his master's place, and whispers to the audience: "I
+have now no master but myself."
+
+Every one laughs at seeing him masterless; and he says, always in an
+under-tone and with a confidential air: "The devils have carried him
+off!"
+
+The enthusiasm of the spectators is now without limits. The last phrase
+was uttered with such roguery, with such a triumphant grimace, that it
+was impossible not to applaud. But Kedril's happiness does not last
+long. Hardly has he taken up the bottle of wine, and poured himself out
+a large glass, which he carries to his lips, than the devils return,
+slip behind, and seize him. Kedril howls like one possessed, but he dare
+not turn round. He wishes to defend himself, but cannot, for in his
+hands he holds the bottle and the glass, from which he will not
+separate. His eyes starting from his head, his mouth gaping with horror,
+he remains for a moment looking at the audience with a comic expression
+of cowardice that might have been painted. At last he is dragged,
+carried away. His arms and legs are agitated in every direction, but he
+still sticks to his bottle. He also shrieks, and his cries are still
+heard when he has been carried from the stage.
+
+The curtain falls amid general laughter, and every one is delighted.
+The orchestra now attacks the famous dance tune Kamarinskaia. First it
+is played softly, pianissimo; but little by little, the motive is
+developed and played more lightly. The time is quickened, and the wood,
+as well as the strings of the balalaiki, is made to sound. The musicians
+enter thoroughly into the spirit of the dance. Glinka [who has arranged
+the Kamarinskaia in the most ingenious manner, and with harmonies of his
+own devising, for full orchestra] should have heard it as it was
+executed in our Convict Prison.
+
+The pantomimic musical accompaniment is begun; and throughout the
+Kamarinskaia is played. The stage represents the interior of a hut. A
+miller and his wife are sitting down, one mending clothes, the other
+spinning flax. Sirotkin plays the part of the wife, and Nietsvitaeff
+that of the husband. Our scenery was very poor. In this piece, as in the
+preceding ones, imagination had to supply what was wanting in reality.
+Instead of a wall at the back of the stage, there was a carpet or a
+blanket; on the right, shabby screens; while on the left, where the
+stage was not closed, the camp-bedsteads could be seen; but the
+spectators were not exacting, and were willing to imagine all that was
+wanting. It was an easy task for them; all convicts are great dreamers.
+Directly they are told "this is a garden," it is for them a garden.
+Informed that "this is a hut," they accept the definition without
+difficulty. To them it is a hut. Sirotkin was charming in a woman's
+dress. The miller finishes his work, takes his cap and his whip, goes up
+to his wife, and gives her to understand by signs, that if during his
+absence she makes the mistake of receiving any one, she will have to
+deal with him--and he shows her his whip. The wife listens, and nods
+affirmatively her head. The whip is evidently known to her; the hussey
+has often deserved it. The husband goes out. Hardly has he turned upon
+his heel, than his wife shakes her fist at him. There is a knock; the
+door opens, and in comes a neighbour, miller also by trade. He wears a
+beard, is in a kuftan, and he brings as a present a red handkerchief.
+The woman smiles. Another knock is heard at the door. Where shall she
+hide him? She conceals him under the table, and takes up her distaff
+again. Another admirer now presents himself--a farrier in the uniform of
+a non-commissioned officer.
+
+Until now the pantomime had gone on capitally; the gestures of the
+actors being irreproachable. It was astounding to see these improvised
+players going through their parts in so correct a manner; and
+involuntarily one said to oneself:
+
+"What a deal of talent is lost in our Russia, left without use in our
+prisons and places of exile!"
+
+The convict who played the part of the farrier had, doubtless, taken
+part in a performance at some provincial theatre, or had played with
+amateurs. It seemed to me, in any case, that our actors knew nothing of
+acting as an art, and bore themselves in the meanest manner. When it was
+his turn to appear, he came on like one of the classical heroes of the
+old repertory--taking a long stride with one foot before he raised the
+other from the ground, throwing back his head on the upper part of his
+body and casting proud looks around him. If such a gait was ridiculous
+on the part of classical heroes, still more so was it when the actor was
+representing a comic character. But the audience thought it quite
+natural, and accepted the actor's triumphant walk as a necessary fact,
+without criticising it.
+
+A moment after the entry of the second admirer there is another knock at
+the door. The wife loses her head. Where is the farrier to be concealed?
+In her big box. It fortunately is open. The farrier disappears within it
+and the lid falls upon him.
+
+The new arrival is a Brahmin, in full costume. His entry is hailed by
+the spectators with a formidable laugh. This Brahmin is represented by
+the convict Cutchin, who plays the part perfectly, thanks, in a great
+measure, to a suitable physiognomy. He explains in the pantomime his
+love of the miller's wife, raises his hands to heaven, and then clasps
+them on his breast.
+
+There is now another knock at the door--a vigorous one this time. There
+could be no mistake about it. It is the master of the house. The
+miller's wife loses her head; the Brahmin runs wildly on all sides,
+begging to be concealed. She helps him to slip behind the cupboard, and
+begins to spin, and goes on spinning without thinking of opening the
+door. In her fright she gets the thread twisted, drops the spindle, and,
+in her agitation, makes the gesture of turning it when it is lying on
+the ground. Sirotkin represented perfectly this state of alarm.
+
+Then the miller kicks open the door and approaches his wife, whip in
+hand. He has seen everything, for he was spying outside; and he
+indicates by signs to his wife that she has three lovers concealed in
+the house. Then he searches them out.
+
+First, he finds the neighbour, whom he drives out with his fist. The
+frightened farrier tries to escape. He raises, with his head, the cover
+of the chest, and is at once seen. The miller thrashes him with his
+whip, and for once this gallant does not march in the classical style.
+
+The only one now remaining is the Brahmin, whom the husband seeks for
+some time without finding him. At last he discovers him in his corner
+behind the cupboard, bows to him politely, and then draws him by his
+beard into the middle of the stage. The Brahmin tries to defend himself,
+and cries out, "Accursed, accursed!"--the only words pronounced
+throughout the pantomime. But the husband will not listen to him, and,
+after settling accounts with him, turns to his wife. Seeing that her
+turn has come, she throws away both wheel and spindle, and runs out,
+causing an earthen pot to fall as she shakes the room in her fright. The
+convicts burst into a laugh, and Ali, without looking at me, takes my
+hand, and calls out, "See, see the Brahmin!" He cannot hold himself
+upright, so overpowering is his laugh. The curtain falls, and another
+song begins.
+
+There were two or three more, all broadly humorous and very droll. The
+convicts had not composed them themselves, but they had contributed
+something to them. Every actor improvised to such purpose that the part
+was a different one each evening. The pantomime ended with a ballet, in
+which there was a burial. The Brahmin went through various incantations
+over the corpse, and with effect. The dead man returns to life, and, in
+their joy, all present begin to dance. The Brahmin dances in Brahminical
+style with the dead man. This was the final scene. The convicts now
+separated, happy, delighted, and full of praise for the actors and
+gratitude towards the non-commissioned officers. There was not the least
+quarrel, and they all went to bed with peaceful hearts, to sleep with a
+sleep by no means familiar to them.
+
+This is no fantasy of my imagination, but the truth, the very truth.
+These unhappy men had been permitted to live for some moments in their
+own way, to amuse themselves in a human manner, to escape for a brief
+hour from their sad position as convicts; and a moral change was
+effected, at least for a time.
+
+The night is already quite dark. Something makes me shudder, and I
+awake. The "old believer" is still on the top of the high porcelain
+stove praying, and he will continue to pray until dawn. Ali is sleeping
+peacefully by my side. I remember that when he went to bed he was still
+laughing and talking about the theatre with his brothers. Little by
+little I began to remember everything; the preceding day, the Christmas
+holidays, and the whole month. I raised my head in fright and looked at
+my companions, who were sleeping by the trembling light of the candle
+provided by the authorities. I look at their unhappy countenances, their
+miserable beds; I view this nakedness, the wretchedness, and then
+convince myself that it is not a frightful night there, but a simple
+reality. Yes, it is a reality. I hear a groan. Some one has moved his
+arm and made his chains rattle. Another one is agitated in his dreams
+and speaks aloud, while the old grandfather is praying for the "Orthodox
+Christians." I listened to his prayer, uttered with regularity, in
+soft, rather drawling tones: "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon us."
+
+"Well, I am not here for ever, but only for a few years," I said to
+myself, and I again laid my head down on my pillow.
+
+
+
+
+Part II.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE HOSPITAL
+
+
+Shortly after the Christmas holidays I felt ill, and had to go to our
+military hospital, which stood apart at about half a verst (one-third of
+a mile) from the fortress. It was a one-storey building, very long, and
+painted yellow. Every summer a great quantity of ochre was expended in
+brightening it up. In the immense court-yard stood buildings, including
+those where the chief physicians lived, while the principal building
+contained only wards intended for the patients. There were a good many
+of them, but as only two were reserved for the convicts, these latter
+were nearly always full, above all in summer, so that it was often
+necessary to bring the beds closer together. These wards were occupied
+by "unfortunates" of all kinds: first by our own, then by military
+prisoners, previously incarcerated in the guard-houses. There were
+others, again, who had not yet been tried, or who were passing through.
+In this hospital, too, were invalids from the Disciplinary Company, a
+melancholy institution for bringing together soldiers of bad conduct,
+with a view to their correction. At the end of a year or two, they come
+back the most thorough-going rascals that the earth can endure.
+
+When a convict felt that he was ill, he told the non-commissioned
+officer, who wrote the man's name down on a card, which he then gave to
+him and sent him to the hospital under the escort of a soldier. On his
+arrival he was examined by a doctor, who authorised the convict to
+remain at the hospital if he was really ill. My name was duly written
+down, and towards one o'clock, when all my companions had started for
+their afternoon work, I went to the hospital. Every prisoner took with
+him such money and bread as he could (for food was not to be expected
+the first day), a little pipe, and pouch containing tobacco, with flint,
+steel, and match-paper. The convicts concealed these objects in their
+boots. On entering the hospital I experienced a feeling of curiosity,
+for a new aspect of life was now presented.
+
+The day was hot, cloudy, sad--one of those days when places like a
+hospital assume a particularly disagreeable and repulsive look. Myself
+and the soldier escorting me went into the entrance room, where there
+were two copper baths. There were two convicts waiting there with their
+warders. An assistant surgeon came in, looked at us with a careless and
+patronising air, and went away still more carelessly to announce our
+arrival to the physician on duty. Soon the physician arrived. He
+examined me, treating me in a very affable manner, and gave me a paper
+on which my name was inscribed. The ordinary physician of the wards
+reserved for the convicts was to make the diagnosis of my illness, to
+prescribe the fitting remedies, together with the necessary diet. I had
+already heard the convicts say that their doctors could not be too much
+praised. "They are fathers to us," they would say.
+
+I took my clothes off to put on another costume. Our clothes and linen
+were taken away, and we were given hospital linen instead, to which were
+added long stockings, slippers, cotton nightcaps, and a dressing-gown of
+a very thick brown cloth, which was lined, not with linen, but with
+filth. The dressing-gown was indeed very filthy, but I soon understood
+its utility. We were afterwards taken to the convict wards, which were
+at the head of a long corridor, very high, and very clean. The external
+cleanliness was quite satisfactory. Everything that could be seen shone;
+so, at least, it seemed to me, after the dirtiness of the convict
+prison.
+
+The two prisoners, whom I had found in the entrance hall, went to the
+left of the corridor, while I entered a room. Before the padlocked door
+walked a sentinel, musket on shoulder; and not far off was the soldier
+who was to replace him. The sergeant of the hospital guard ordered him
+to let me pass, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a long
+narrow room, with beds to the number of twenty-two arranged against the
+walls. Three or four of them were still unoccupied. These wooden beds
+were painted green, and, as is notoriously the case with all hospital
+beds in Russia, were doubtless inhabited by bugs. I went into a corner
+by the side of the windows. There were very few prisoners dangerously
+ill and confined to their beds.
+
+The inmates of the hospital were, for the most part, convalescents, or
+men who were slightly indisposed. My new companions were stretched out
+on their couches, or walking about up and down between the rows of beds.
+There was just space enough for them to come and go. The atmosphere of
+the ward was stifling with the odour peculiar to hospitals. It was
+composed of various emanations, each more disagreeable than the other,
+and of the smell of drugs; though the stove was kept well heated all day
+long, my bed was covered with a counterpane, which I took off. The bed
+itself consisted of a cloth blanket lined with linen, and coarse sheets
+of more than doubtful cleanliness. By the side of the bed was a little
+table with a pitcher and a pewter mug, together with a diminutive
+napkin, which had been given to me. The table could, moreover, hold a
+tea-urn for those patients who were rich enough to drink tea. These men
+of means, however, were not very numerous. The pipes and the tobacco
+pouches--for all the patients smoked, even the consumptive ones--could
+be concealed beneath the mattress. The doctors and the other officials
+scarcely ever made searches, and when they surprised a patient with a
+pipe in his mouth, they pretended not to see. The patients, however,
+were very prudent, and smoked always at the back of the stove. They
+never smoked in their beds except at night, when no rounds were made by
+the officers commanding the hospital.
+
+Until then I had not been in any hospital in the character of patient,
+so that everything was quite new to me. I noticed that my entry had
+mystified some of the prisoners. They had heard of me, and all the
+inmates now looked upon me with that slight shade of superiority which
+recognised members of no matter what society show to one newly admitted
+among them. On my right was lying down a man committed for trial--an
+ex-secretary and the illegitimate son of a retired captain--accused of
+having made false money. He had been in the hospital nearly a year. He
+was not in the least ill, but he assured the doctors that he had an
+aneurism, and he so thoroughly convinced them that he escaped both the
+hard labour and the corporal punishment to which he had been sentenced.
+He was sent a year later to T----k, where he was attached to an asylum.
+He was a vigorous young fellow of eight-and-twenty, cunning, a
+self-confessed rogue, and something of a lawyer. He was intelligent, had
+easy manners, but was very presumptuous, and suffered from morbid
+self-esteem. Convinced that there was no one in the world a bit more
+honest or more just than himself, he did not consider himself at all
+guilty, and never kept this assurance to himself.
+
+This personage was the first to address me, and he questioned me with
+much curiosity. He initiated me into the ways of the hospital; and, of
+course, began by telling me that he was the son of a captain. He was
+very anxious that I should take him for a noble, or at least, for some
+one connected with the nobility.
+
+Soon afterwards an invalid from the Disciplinary Company came and told
+me that he knew a great many nobles who had been exiled; and, to
+convince me, he repeated to me their christian names and their
+patronymics. It was only necessary to see the face of this soldier to
+understand that he was lying abominably. He was named Tchekounoff, and
+came to pay court to me, because he suspected me of having money. When
+he saw a packet of tea and sugar, he at once offered me his services to
+make the water boil and to get me a tea-urn. M. D. S. K---- had promised
+to send me my own by one of the prisoners who worked in the hospital,
+but Tchekounoff arranged to get me one forthwith. He got me a tin
+vessel, in which he made the water boil; and, in a word, he showed such
+extraordinary zeal, that it drew down upon him bitter laughter from one
+of the patients, a consumptive man, whose bed was just opposite mine,
+Usteantseff by name. This was the soldier condemned to the rods, who,
+from fear, had swallowed a bottle of vodka, in which he had infused
+tobacco, this bringing on lung disease.
+
+I have spoken of him above. He had remained silent until now, stretched
+out on his bed, and breathing with difficulty. He looked at me all the
+time with a very serious air. He did not take his eyes from Tchekounoff,
+whose civility irritated him. His extraordinary gravity rendered his
+indignation comic. At last he could stand it no longer.
+
+"Look at this fellow! He has found his master," he said, stammering out
+the words with a voice strangled by weakness, for he had now not long to
+live.
+
+Tchekounoff, much annoyed, turned round.
+
+"Who is the fellow?" he asked, looking at Usteantseff, with contempt.
+
+"Why, you are a flunkey," replied Usteantseff, as confidently as if he
+had possessed the right of calling Tchekounoff to order.
+
+"I a fellow?"
+
+"Yes, you are a flunkey; a true flunkey. Listen, my good friends. He
+won't believe me. He is quite astonished, the brave fellow."
+
+"What can that matter to you? You see when they don't know how to make
+use of their hands that they are not accustomed to be without servants.
+Why should I not serve him, buffoon with a hairy snout?"
+
+"Who has a hairy snout?"
+
+"You!"
+
+"I have a hairy snout?"
+
+"Yes; certainly you have."
+
+"You are a nice fellow, you are. If I have a hairy snout, you have a
+face like a crow's egg."
+
+"Hairy snout! The merciful Lord has settled your account. You would do
+much better to keep quiet and die."
+
+"Why? I would rather prostrate myself before a boot than before a
+slipper. My father never prostrated himself, and never made me do so."
+
+He would have continued, but an attack of coughing convulsed him for
+some minutes. He spat blood, and a cold sweat broke out on his low
+forehead. If his cough had not prevented him from speaking, he would
+have continued to declaim. One could see that from his look; but in his
+powerlessness he could only move his hand, the result of which was that
+Tchekounoff spoke no more about the matter.
+
+I quite understood that the consumptive patient hated me much more than
+Tchekounoff. No one would have thought of being angry with him or of
+looking down upon him by reason of the services he was rendering me, and
+the few kopecks that he tried to get from me. Every one understood that
+he did it all in order to get himself a little money.
+
+The Russian people are not at all susceptible on such points, and know
+perfectly well how to take them.
+
+I had displeased Usteantseff, as my tea had also displeased him. What
+irritated him was that, in spite of all, I was a gentleman, even with my
+chains; that I could not do without a servant, though I neither asked
+for nor desired one. In reality I tried to do everything for myself, in
+order not to appear a white-handed, effeminate person, and not to play
+the part which excited so much envy.
+
+I even felt a little pride on this point; but, in spite of every
+thing--I do not know why--I was always surrounded by officious,
+complaisant people, who attached themselves to me of their own free
+will, and who ended by governing me. It was I rather who was their
+servant; so that, whether I liked it or not, I was made to appear to
+every one a noble, who could not do without the services of others, and
+who gave himself airs. This exasperated me.
+
+Usteantseff was consumptive, and, therefore, irascible. The other
+patients only showed me indifference, tinged with a shade of contempt.
+They were occupied with a circumstance which now presents itself to my
+memory.
+
+I learned, as I listened to their conversation, that there was to be
+brought into the hospital that evening a convict who, at that moment,
+was receiving the rods. The prisoners were looking forward to this new
+arrival with some curiosity. They said, however, that his punishment was
+but slight--only five hundred strokes.
+
+I looked round. The greater number of genuine patients were, as far as I
+could observe, affected by scurvy and diseases of the eyes--both
+peculiar to this country. The others suffered from fever, lung disease,
+and other illnesses. The different illnesses were not separated; all the
+patients were together in the same room.
+
+I have spoken of genuine patients, for certain convicts had come in
+merely to get a little rest. The doctors admitted them from pure
+compassion, above all, if there were any vacant beds. Life in the
+guard-house and in the prison was so hard compared with that of the
+hospital, that many persons preferred to remain lying down in spite of
+the stifling atmosphere and the rules against leaving the room.
+
+There were even men who took pleasure in this kind of life. They
+belonged nearly all to the Disciplinary Company. I examined my new
+companions with curiosity. One of them puzzled me very much. He was
+consumptive, and was dying. His bed was a little further on than that of
+Usteantseff, and was nearly beside mine. He was named Mikhailoff. I had
+seen him in the Convict Prison two weeks before, when he was already
+seriously ill. He ought to have been under treatment long before, but
+he bore up against his malady with surprising courage. He did not go to
+the hospital until about the Christmas holidays, to die three weeks
+afterwards of galloping consumption. He seemed to have burned out like a
+candle. What astonished me most was the terrible change in his
+countenance. I had noticed him the very first day of my imprisonment. By
+his side was lying a soldier of the Disciplinary Company--an old man
+with a bad expression on his face, whose general appearance was
+disgusting.
+
+But I am not going to enumerate all the patients. I just remember this
+old man simply because he made an impression on me, and initiated me at
+once into certain peculiarities of the ward. He had a severe cold in the
+head, which made him sneeze at every moment, even during his sleep, as
+if firing salutes, five or six times running, while each time he called
+out, "My God, what torture!"
+
+Seated on his bed he stuffed his nose eagerly with snuff, which he took
+from a paper bag, in order to sneeze more strongly, and with greater
+regularity. He sneezed into a checked cotton pocket-handkerchief which
+belonged to him, and which had lost its colour through perpetual
+washing. His little nose then became wrinkled in a most peculiar manner
+with a multitude of wrinkles, and his open mouth exhibited broken teeth,
+decayed and black, and red gums moist with saliva. When he sneezed into
+his handkerchief he unfolded it and wiped it on the lining of his
+dressing-gown. His proceedings disgusted me so much that involuntarily I
+examined the dressing-gown I had just put on myself. It exhaled a most
+offensive odour, which contact with my body helped to bring out. It
+smelt of plasters and medicaments of all kinds. It seemed as though it
+had been worn by patients from time immemorial. The lining had, perhaps,
+been washed once, but I would not swear to it. Certainly, at the time I
+put it on, it was saturated with lotions, and stained by contact with
+poultices and plasters of all imaginable kinds.
+
+The men condemned to the rods, having undergone their punishment, were
+brought straight to the hospital, their backs still bleeding. As
+compresses and as poultices were placed on their wounds, the
+dressing-gown they wore over their wet shirt received and retained the
+droppings.
+
+During all the time of my hard labour I had to go to the hospital, which
+often happened, I always put on, with mistrust and abhorrence, the
+dressing-gown that was delivered to me. As soon as Tchekounoff had given
+me my tea (I will say, in parenthesis, that the water brought in in the
+morning, and not renewed throughout the day, was soon corrupted, soon
+poisoned by the fetid air), the door opened, and the soldier, who had
+just received the rods, was brought in under a double escort. I saw, for
+the first time, a man who had just been whipped. Later on many were
+brought in, and whenever this happened it caused great distress to the
+patients. These unfortunate men were received with grave composure, but
+the nature of the reception depended nearly always on the enormity of
+the crime committed, and, consequently, the number of strokes
+administered.
+
+The criminals most cruelly whipped, and who were celebrated as brigands
+of the first order, enjoyed more respect and attention than a simple
+deserter, a recruit, like the one who had just been brought in. But in
+neither case was any particular sympathy manifested, nor were any
+annoying remarks made. The unhappy man was attended to in silence, above
+all if he was incapable of attending to himself. The assistant-surgeons
+knew that they were entrusting their patients to skilful and experienced
+hands. The usual treatment consisted in applying very often to the back
+of the man who had been whipped a shirt or a piece of linen steeped in
+cold water. It was also necessary to withdraw skilfully from the wounds
+the twigs left by the rods which had been broken on the criminal's back.
+This last operation was particularly painful to the patients. The
+extraordinary stoicism with which they supported their sufferings
+astonished me greatly.
+
+I have seen many convicts who had been whipped, and cruelly, I can tell
+you. Well, I do not remember one of them uttering a groan. Only after
+such an experience, the countenance becomes pale, decomposed, the eyes
+glitter, the look wanders, and the lips tremble so that the patient
+sometimes bites them till they bleed.
+
+The soldier who had just come in was twenty-three years of age; he had a
+good muscular development, and was rather a fine man, tall, well-made,
+with a bronzed skin. His back, uncovered down to the waist, had been
+seriously beaten, and his body now trembled with fever beneath the damp
+sheet with which his back was covered. For about an hour and a half he
+did nothing but walk backwards and forwards in the room. I looked at his
+face: he seemed to be thinking of nothing; his eyes had a strange
+expression, at once wild and timid; they seemed to fix themselves with
+difficulty on the various objects. I fancied I saw him looking
+attentively at my hot tea; the steam was rising from the full cup, and
+the poor devil was shivering and clattering his teeth. I invited him to
+have some; he turned towards me without saying a word, and taking up the
+cup, swallowed the tea at one gulp, without putting sugar in it. He
+tried not to look at me, and when he had finished he put the cup back in
+silence without making a sign, and then began to walk up and down as
+before. He was in too much pain to think of speaking to me or thanking
+me. As for the other prisoners, they abstained from questioning him;
+when once they had applied compresses they paid no more attention to
+him, thinking probably it would be better to leave him alone, and not to
+worry him by their questions and compassion. The soldier seemed quite
+satisfied with this view.
+
+Meanwhile, night came on and the lamp was lighted; some of the patients
+possessed candlesticks of their own, but these were not numerous. In the
+evening the doctor came round, after which a non-commissioned officer on
+guard counted the patients and closed the room.
+
+The prisoners could not speak in too high terms of their doctors. They
+looked upon them truly as fathers and respected them. These doctors had
+always something pleasant to say, a kind word even for reprobates, who
+appreciated it all the more because they knew it was said in all
+sincerity.
+
+Yes, these kind words were really sincere, for no one would have thought
+of blaming the doctors had they shown themselves cross and inhuman; they
+were kind purely from humanity. They understood perfectly that a convict
+who is sick has as much right to breathe pure air as any other person,
+even though the latter might be a great personage. The convalescents
+there had a right to walk freely through the corridors to take exercise,
+and to breathe air less pestilential than that of our infirmary, which
+was close and saturated with deleterious emanations. In our ward, when
+once the doors had been closed in the evening, they had to remain closed
+throughout the night, and under no pretext was one of the inmates
+allowed to go out.
+
+For many years an inexplicable fact troubled me like an insoluble
+problem. I must speak of it before going on with my description. I am
+thinking of the chains which every convict is obliged to wear, however
+ill he may be; even consumptives have died beneath my eyes with their
+legs loaded with irons.
+
+Everybody was accustomed to it, and regarded it as an inevitable fact. I
+do not think any one, even the doctors, would have thought of demanding
+the removal of the irons from convicts who were seriously ill, not even
+from the consumptive ones. The chains, it is true, were not exceedingly
+heavy; they did not in general weigh more than eight or ten pounds,
+which is a supportable burden for a man in good health. I have been
+told, however, that after some years the legs of the convicts dry up and
+waste away. I do not know whether it is true. I am inclined to think it
+is; the weight, however light it may be (say not more than ten pounds),
+if it is fixed to the leg for ever, increases the general weight in an
+abnormal manner, and at the end of a certain time must have a disastrous
+effect on its development.
+
+For a convict in good health this is nothing, but the same cannot be
+said of one who is sick. For the convicts who were seriously ill, for
+the consumptive ones whose arms and legs dry up of themselves, this last
+straw is insupportable. Even if the medical authorities claimed
+alleviation for the consumptive patients alone, it would be an immense
+benefit, I assure you. I shall be told convicts are malefactors,
+unworthy of compassion; but ought increased severity to be shown towards
+him on whom the finger of God already weighs? No one will believe that
+the object of this aggravation is to reform the criminal. The
+consumptive prisoners are exempted from corporal punishment by the
+tribunal.
+
+There must be some mysterious, important reason for all this, but what
+it is, it is impossible to understand. No one believes--it is impossible
+to believe--that a consumptive man will run away. Who can think of such
+a thing, especially if the illness has reached a certain degree of
+intensity? It is impossible to deceive the doctors and make them mistake
+a convict in good health for one who is in a consumption, for this
+malady is one that can be recognised at the first glance. Moreover, can
+the irons prevent the convict not in good health from escaping? Not in
+the least. The irons are a degradation and shame, a physical and moral
+burden; but they would not hinder any one attempting to escape. The most
+awkward and least intelligent convict can saw through them, or break the
+rivets by hammering at them with a stone. Chains, then, are a useless
+precaution; and if the convicts wear them as a punishment, should not
+this punishment be spared to dying men?
+
+As I write these lines, a face stands out from my memory: that of a
+dying man, a man who died in consumption, this same Mikhailoff, whose
+bed was nearly opposite me, and who expired, I think, four days after my
+arrival at the hospital. When I spoke above of the consumptive patients,
+I was only reproducing involuntarily the sensations and ideas which
+occurred to me on the occasion of this death. I knew Mikhailoff very
+little; he was a young man of twenty-five at most, not very tall, thin,
+and with a fine face; he belonged to the "special section," and was
+remarkable for his strange, but soft and sad taciturnity; he seemed to
+have "dried up" in the convict prison, to use an expression employed by
+the convicts who had a good recollection of him. I remember he had very
+fine eyes. I really cannot tell why I think of that.
+
+He died at three o'clock in the afternoon on a clear, dry day. The sun
+was darting its brilliant rays obliquely through the greenish, frozen
+panes of our room. A torrent of light inundated the unhappy patient, who
+had lost all consciousness, and was several hours dying. From the early
+morning his sight became confused; he was unable to recognise those who
+approached him. The convicts would gladly have done anything to relieve
+him, for they saw he was in great suffering. His respiration was
+painful, deep, and irregular; his breast rose and fell violently, as
+though he were in want of air; he cast his blanket and his clothes far
+from him. Then he began to tear up his shirt, which seemed to him a
+terrible burden. It was taken off. Then it was frightful to see this
+immensely long body, with fleshless arms and legs, with beating breast,
+and ribs which were as clearly marked as those of a skeleton. There was
+nothing now on this skeleton but a cross and the irons, from which his
+dried-up legs might easily have freed themselves. A quarter of an hour
+before his death everything was silent in our ward, and the inmates
+spoke only in whispers. The convicts walked on the tips of their toes.
+From time to time they exchanged remarks on other subjects, and cast a
+furtive glance at the dying man. The rattling in his throat grew more
+and more painful. At last, with a trembling hand, he felt the cross on
+his breast and endeavoured to tear it off; it was also weighing upon
+him, suffocating him. It was taken off. Ten minutes afterwards, he died.
+Some one then knocked at the door in order to give notice to the
+sentinel; the warder entered, looked at the dead man with a vacant air,
+and went away to get the assistant-surgeon. The assistant-surgeon was a
+good fellow enough, but a little too much occupied with his personal
+appearance, otherwise very agreeable; he soon arrived, went up to the
+corpse with long strides which made a noise in the silent ward, and
+felt the dead man's pulse with an unconcerned air which seemed to have
+been put on for the occasion. He then made a vague gesture with his hand
+and went out.
+
+Information was given at the guard-house; for the criminal was an
+important one (he belonged to the special section), and in order to
+register his death it was necessary to go through some formalities.
+While we were waiting for the hospital guard to come, one of the
+prisoners said in a whisper, "The eyes of the defunct might as well be
+closed." Another one profited by this remark, and approaching Mikhailoff
+in silence, closed his eyes; then perceiving on the pillow the cross
+which had been taken from his neck, he took it and looked at it, put it
+down, and crossed himself. The face of the dead man was becoming
+ossified; a ray of white light was playing on the surface and
+illuminated two rows of white, good teeth which sparkled between his
+thin lips, glued to the gums by the mouth.
+
+The non-commissioned officer on guard arrived at last, musket on
+shoulder, helmet on head, accompanied by two soldiers; he approached the
+corpse, slackening his pace with an air of uncertainty. Then he examined
+with a side glance the silent prisoners, who looked at him with a sombre
+expression. At one step from the dead man he stopped short, as if
+suddenly nailed to the spot; the naked, dried-up body, loaded with
+irons, had impressed him; he undid his chin-strap, removed his helmet
+(which was not at all necessary for him to do), and made the sign of the
+cross; he had a gray head, the head of a soldier who had seen much
+service. I remember that by his side stood Tchekounoff, an old man who
+was also gray. He looked all the time at the non-commissioned officer,
+and followed all his movements with strange attention. They glanced
+across, and I saw that Tchekounoff also trembled. He bit and closed his
+teeth, and said to the non-commissioned officer, as if involuntarily, at
+the same time nodding his head in the direction of the dead man, "He had
+a mother, too!"
+
+These words went to my heart. Why had he said them? and how did this
+idea occur to him? The corpse was raised with the mattress; the straw
+creaked, the chains dragged along the ground with a sharp ring; they
+were taken up and the body was carried out. Suddenly all spoke once more
+in a loud voice. The non-commissioned officer in the corridor could well
+be heard crying out to some one to go for the blacksmith. It was
+necessary to take the dead man's irons off. But I have digressed from my
+subject.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE HOSPITAL (_continued_).
+
+
+The doctors used to visit the wards in the morning, towards eleven
+o'clock; they appeared all together, forming a procession, which was
+headed by the chief physician. An hour and a half before, the ordinary
+physician had made his round. He was a quiet young man, always affable
+and kind, much liked by the prisoners, and thoroughly versed in his art;
+they only found one fault with him, that he was "too soft." He was, in
+fact, by no means communicative, he seemed confused in our presence,
+blushed sometimes, and changed the quantity of food at the first
+representation of the patient. I think he would have consented to give
+them any medicine they desired: in other respects an excellent young
+man.
+
+A doctor in Russia often enjoys the affection and respect of the people,
+and with reason, as far as I have been able to see. I know that my words
+would seem a paradox, above all when the mistrust of this same people
+for foreign drugs and foreign doctors is taken into account; in fact,
+they prefer, even when suffering from a serious illness, to address
+themselves year after year to a witch, or employ old women's remedies
+(which, however, ought not to be despised), rather than consult a
+doctor, or go into the hospital. In truth, these prejudices may be
+above all attributed to causes which have nothing to do with medicine,
+namely, the mistrust of the people for anything which bears an official
+and administrative character; nor must it be forgotten that the common
+people are frightened and prejudiced in regard to the hospitals, by the
+stories, often absurd, of fantastic horrors said to take place within
+them. Perhaps, however, these stories have a basis of truth.
+
+But what repels them above all, is the Germanism of the hospitals, the
+idea that during their illness they will be attended to by foreigners,
+the severity of the diet, the heartlessness of the surgeons and doctors,
+the dissection and autopsy of the bodies, etc. The common people
+reflect, moreover, that they will be attended by nobles--for in their
+view the doctors belong to the nobility. Once they have made
+acquaintance with them (there are exceptions, no doubt, but they are
+rare), their fears vanish. This success must be attributed to our
+doctors, especially the young ones, who, for the most part, know how to
+gain the respect and affection of the people. I speak now of what I
+myself have seen and experienced in many cases and in different parts,
+and I think matters are the same everywhere. In some distant localities
+the doctors receive presents, make profit out of their hospitals, and
+neglect the patients; sometimes they forget even their art. This
+happens, no doubt; but I am speaking of the majority, inspired as it is
+by that spirit, that generous tendency which is regenerating the medical
+art. As for the apostates, the wolves in the sheep-fold, they may excuse
+themselves, and cast the blame on the circumstances amid which they
+live; but they are absurd, inexcusable, especially if they are no longer
+humane; it is precisely the humanity, affability, and brotherly
+compassion of the doctor which prove most efficacious remedies for the
+patients. It is time to stop these apathetic lamentations on the
+circumstances surrounding us. There may be truth in the lament, but a
+cunning rogue who knows how to take care of himself never fails to
+blame the circumstances around him when he wishes his faults to be
+forgiven--above all, if he writes or speaks with eloquence.
+
+I have again departed from my subject; I wish only to say that the
+common people mistrust and dislike officialism and the Government
+doctors, rather than the doctors themselves; but on personal
+acquaintance many prejudices disappear.
+
+Our doctor generally stopped before the bed of each patient, questioned
+him seriously and attentively, then prescribed the remedies, potions,
+etc. He sometimes noticed that the pretended invalid was not ill at all;
+he had come to take rest after his hard work, and to sleep on a mattress
+in a warm room, far preferable to the naked planks in a damp guard-house
+among a mass of pale, broken-down men, waiting for their trial. In
+Russia the prisoners in the House of Detention are almost always broken
+down, which shows that their moral and material condition is worse even
+than those of the convicts.
+
+In cases of feigned sickness our doctor would describe the patient as
+suffering from _febris catharalis_, and sometimes allowed him to remain
+a week in the hospital. Every one laughed at this _febris catharalis_,
+for it was known to be a formula agreed upon between the doctor and the
+patient to indicate no malady at all. Often the robust invalid who
+abused the doctor's compassion remained in the hospital until he was
+turned out by force. Our doctor was worth seeing then. Confused by the
+prisoner's obstinacy, he did not like to tell him plainly that he was
+cured and offer him his leaving ticket, although he had the right to
+send him away without the least explanation on writing the words,
+_sanat. est_. First he would hint to him that it was time to go, and
+then would beg him to leave.
+
+"You must go, you know you are cured now, and we have no place for you,
+we are very much cramped here, etc."
+
+At last, ashamed to remain any longer, the patient would consent to go.
+The physician-in-chief, although compassionate and just (the patients
+were much attached to him), was incomparably more severe and more
+decided than our ordinary physician. In certain cases he showed
+merciless severity which only gained for him the respect of the
+convicts. He always came into the room accompanied by all the doctors of
+the hospital, when his assistants visited all the beds and diagnosed on
+each particular case; he stopped longest at the beds of those who were
+seriously ill, and had an encouraging word for them. He never sent back
+the convicts who arrived with _febris catharalis_; but if one of them
+was determined to remain in the hospital, he certified that the man was
+cured. "Come," he would say, "you have had your rest; now go, you must
+not take liberties."
+
+Those who insisted upon remaining, were, above all, the convicts who
+were worn out by field labour, performed during the great summer heat,
+or prisoners who had been sentenced to be whipped. I remember that they
+were obliged to be particularly severe, merely in order to get rid of
+one of them. He had come to be cured of some disease of the eyes, which
+were red all over; he complained of suffering a sharp pain in the
+eyelids. He was incurable; plasters, blisters, leeches, nothing did him
+any good; and the diseased organ remained in the same condition.
+
+Then it occurred to the doctors that the illness was feigned, for the
+inflammation neither became worse nor better; and they soon understood
+that a comedy was being played, although the patient would not admit it.
+He was a fine young fellow, not ill-looking, though he produced a
+disagreeable impression upon all his companions; he was suspicious,
+sombre, full of dissimulation, and never looked any one straight in the
+face; he also kept himself apart as if he mistrusted us all. I remember
+that many persons were afraid that he would do some one harm.
+
+When he was a soldier he had committed some small theft, he had been
+arrested and condemned to receive a thousand strokes, and afterwards to
+pass into a disciplinary company.
+
+To put off the moment of punishment, the prisoners, as I have already
+said, will do incredible things. On the eve of the fatal day, they will
+stick a knife into one of their chiefs, or into a comrade, in order that
+they may be tried again for this new offence, which will delay their
+punishment for a month or two. It matters little to them that their
+punishment be doubled or tripled, if they can escape this time. What
+they desire is to put off temporarily the terrible minute at whatever
+cost, so utterly does their heart fail them.
+
+Many of the patients thought the man with the sore eyes ought to be
+watched, lest in his despair he should assassinate some one during the
+night; but no precaution was taken, not even by those who slept next to
+him. It was remarked, however, that he rubbed his eyes with plaster from
+the wall, and with something else besides, in order that they might
+appear red when the doctor came round; at last the doctor-in-chief
+threatened to cure him by-means of a seton.
+
+When the malady resists all ordinary treatment, the doctors determine to
+try some heroic, however painful, remedy. But the poor devil did not
+wish to get well, he was either too obstinate or too cowardly; for,
+however painful the proposed operation may be, it cannot be compared to
+the punishment of the rods.
+
+The operation consists in seizing the patient by the nape of the neck,
+taking up the skin, drawing it back as much as possible, and making in
+it a double incision, through which is passed a skein of cotton about as
+thick as the finger. Every day at a fixed hour this skein is pulled
+backwards and forwards in order that the wound may continually suppurate
+and may not heal; the poor devil endured this torture which caused him
+horrible suffering, for several days.
+
+At last he consented to quit the hospital. In less than a day his eyes
+became quite well; and, as soon as his neck was healed, he was sent to
+the guard-house which he left next day to receive the first thousand
+strokes.
+
+Painful is the minute which precedes such a punishment; so painful, that
+perhaps I am wrong in taxing with cowardice those convicts who fear it.
+
+It must be terrible; for the convicts to risk a double or triple
+punishment, merely to postpone it. I have spoken, however, of convicts
+who have thus wished to quit the hospital before the wounds caused by
+the first part of the flogging were healed, in order to receive the last
+part and make an end of it. For life in a guard-room is certainly worse
+than in a convict prison.
+
+The habit of receiving floggings helps in some cases to give intrepidity
+and decision to convicts. Those who have been often flogged, are
+hardened both in body and mind, and have at last looked upon such a
+punishment as merely a disagreeable incident no longer to be feared.
+
+One of our convicts of the special section was a converted Tartar, who
+was named Alexander, or Alexandrina, as they called him in fun at the
+convict prison; who told me how he had received 4,000 strokes. He never
+spoke of this punishment except with amusement and laughter; but he
+swore very seriously that if he had not been brought up in his horde,
+from his most tender infancy, on whipping and flogging--and as the scars
+which covered his back, and which refused to disappear, were there to
+testify--he would never have been able to support those 4,000 strokes.
+He blessed the education of sticks that he had received.
+
+"I was beaten for the least thing, Alexander Petrovitch," he said one
+evening, when we were sitting down before the fire. "I was beaten
+without reason for fifteen years, as long as I can ever remember, and
+several times a day. Any one who liked beat me; so that, at last, it
+made no impression upon me."
+
+I do not know how it was he became a soldier, for perhaps he lied, and
+had always been a deserter and vagabond. But I remember his telling me
+one day of the fright he was seized with when he was condemned to
+receive 4,000 strokes for having killed one of his officers.
+
+"I know that they will punish me severely," he said to himself, "that,
+accustomed as I am to be whipped, I shall perhaps die on the spot. The
+devil! 4,000 strokes is not a trifle; and then all my officers were in a
+fearful temper with me on account of this affair. I knew well that it
+would not be 'rose-water.' I even believed that I should die under the
+rods. I determined to get baptized. I said to myself, that perhaps they
+would not then flog me, at any rate it was worth trying, my comrades had
+told me that it would be of no good. But,' I said to myself, 'who knows?
+perhaps they will pardon me, they will have more compassion on a
+Christian than on a Mohammedan. They baptized me, and give me the name
+of Alexander; but, in spite of that, I had to take my flogging; they did
+not let me off a single stroke; I was, however, very savage. 'Wait a
+bit,' I said to myself, 'and I will take you all in'; and, would you
+believe it, Alexander? I did take them all in. I knew how to look like a
+dead man; not that I appeared altogether without life, but I looked as
+if I were on the point of breathing my last. They led me in front of the
+battalion to receive my first thousand; my skin was burning, I began to
+howl. They gave me my second thousand, and I said to myself, 'It's all
+over now.' I had lost my head, my legs seemed broken, so I fell to the
+ground, with the eyes of a dead man. My face blue, my mouth full of
+froth, I no longer breathed. When the doctor came he said I was on the
+point of death. I was carried to the hospital, and at once returned to
+life. Twice again they flogged me. What a rage they were in! I took them
+all in on each occasion. I received my third thousand, and died again.
+On my word, when they gave me the last thousand each stroke ought to
+have counted for three, it was like a knife in my heart. Oh, how they
+did beat me! They were so severe with me. Oh, that cursed fourth
+thousand! it was well worth three firsts put together. If I had
+pretended to be dead when I had still 200 to receive, I think they would
+have finished me; but they did not get the better of me. I had them
+again and again, for they always thought it was all over with me, and
+how could they have thought otherwise? The doctor was sure of it. But as
+for the 200 which I had still to receive, they might have struck as hard
+as they liked--they were worth 2,000; I only laughed at them. Why?
+Because, when I was a youngster, I had grown up under the whip. Well, I
+am well, and alive now; but I have been beaten in the course of my
+life," he repeated, with a passive air, as he brought his story to an
+end. As he did so, he seemed to recollect and count anew the blows he
+had received.
+
+After a brief silence, he said: "I cannot count them, nor can any one
+else; there are not figures enough." He looked at me, and burst into a
+laugh, so simple and natural, that I could not help smiling in return.
+
+"Do you know, Alexander Petrovitch, when I dream at night, I always
+dream that I am being flogged. I dream of nothing else." He, in fact,
+talked in his sleep, and woke up the other prisoners.
+
+"What are you yelling about, you demon?" they would say to him.
+
+This strong, robust fellow, short in stature, about forty-four years of
+age, active, good-looking, lived on good terms with every one, though he
+was very fond of taking what did not belong to him, and afterwards got
+beaten for it. But each of our convicts who stole got beaten for their
+thefts.
+
+I will add to these remarks that I was always surprised at the
+extraordinary good-nature, the absence of rancour with which these
+unhappy men spoke of their punishment, and of the chiefs superintending
+it. In these stories, which often gave me palpitation of the heart, not
+a shadow of hatred or rancour could be detected; they laughed at what
+they had suffered like children.
+
+It was not the same, however, with M--t�ki, when he told me of his
+punishment. As he was not a noble, he had been sentenced to be flogged.
+He had never spoken to me of it, and when I asked him if it were true,
+he replied affirmatively in two brief words, but with evident suffering,
+and without looking at me. He at the same time turned red, and when he
+raised his eyes, I saw flames burning in them, while his lips trembled
+with indignation. I felt that he would not forget, that he could never
+forget this page of his history. Our companions generally on the other
+hand (though theirs might have been exceptions), looked upon their
+adventures with quite another eye. It is impossible, I sometimes
+thought, that they can be conscious of their guilt, and not acknowledge
+the justice of their punishment; above all, when their offences were
+against their companions and not against some chief. The greater part of
+them did not acknowledge their guilt. I have already said that I never
+observed in them the least remorse, even when the crime had been
+committed against people of their own station. As for the crimes
+committed against a chief, they did not even speak of them. It seems to
+me that for those cases, they had special views of their own. They
+looked upon them as accidents caused by destiny, by fatality, into which
+they had fallen unconsciously as the result of some extraordinary
+impulse. The convict always justifies the crimes he has committed
+against his chief; he does not trouble himself about the matter. But he
+admits that the chief cannot share his view, and consequently, that he
+must naturally be punished, and then he will be quits with him.
+
+The struggle between the administration and the prisoner is of the
+severest character on both sides. What in a great measure justifies the
+criminal in his own eyes, is his conviction that the people among whom
+he has been born and has lived will acquit him. He is certain that the
+common people will not look upon him as a lost man, unless, indeed, his
+crime has bean committed against persons of his own class, against his
+brethren. He is quite calm about that; supported by his conscience, he
+will not lose his moral tranquillity, and that is the principal thing.
+He feels himself on firm ground, and has no particular hatred for the
+knout, when once it has been administered to him. He knows that it was
+inevitable, and consoles himself by thinking that he was neither the
+first nor the last to receive it. Does the soldier detest the Turk whom
+he fights? Not in the least! yet he sabres him, hacks him to pieces,
+kills him.
+
+It must not be thought, moreover, that all of these stories were told
+with indifference and in cold blood.
+
+When the name of Jerebiatnikof was mentioned, it was always with
+indignation. I made the acquaintance of this officer during my first
+stay in the hospital--only by the convicts' stories, it must be
+understood. I afterwards saw him one day when he was commanding the
+guard at the convict prison; he was about thirty years old, very stout
+and very strong, with red cheeks hanging down on each side, white teeth,
+and a formidable laugh. One could see in a moment that he was in no way
+given to reflection. He took the greatest pleasure in whipping and
+flogging, when he had to superintend the punishment. I must hasten to
+say that the other officers looked upon Jerebiatnikof as a monster, and
+the convicts did the same. This was in the good old time, which is not
+very very far off, but in which it is already difficult to believe
+executioners delighted in their office. But, generally speaking, the
+strokes were administered without enthusiasm.
+
+This lieutenant was an exception, and he took a real pleasure and
+delight in punishment. He had a passion for it, and liked it for its own
+sake; he looked to this art for unnatural delights in order to tickle
+and excite his base soul. A prisoner is conducted to the place of
+punishment. Jerebiatnikof is the officer superintending the execution.
+Arranging a long line of soldiers, armed with heavy rods, he walks along
+the front with a satisfied air, and encourages each one to do his duty,
+conscientiously or otherwise--the soldiers know before what "otherwise"
+means. The criminal is brought out. If he does not yet know
+Jerebiatnikof, if he is not in the secret of the mystery, the Lieutenant
+plays him the following trick--one of the inventions of Jerebiatnikof,
+very ingenious in this style of thing. The prisoner, whose back has been
+bared, and whom the non-commissioned officers have fastened to the butt
+end of a musket in order to drag him afterwards through the whole length
+of the "Green Street." He begs the officer in charge, with a plaintive
+and tearful voice, not to have him struck too hard, not to double the
+punishment by any undue severity.
+
+"Your nobility!" cries the unhappy wretch, "have pity on me, treat me
+fraternally, so that I may pray God throughout my life for you. Do not
+destroy me, show mercy!"
+
+Jerebiatnikof had waited for this. He now suspended the execution, and
+engaged the prisoner in conversation, speaking to him in a sentimental,
+compassionate tone.
+
+"But, my good fellow," he would say, "what am I to do? It is the law
+that punishes you--it is the law."
+
+"Your nobility! You can make it everything; have pity upon me."
+
+"Do you really think that I have no pity on you? Do you think it is any
+pleasure to me to see you whipped? I am a man, am I not? Answer me, am I
+not a man?"
+
+"Certainly, your nobility. We know that the officers are our fathers and
+we their children. Be to me a venerable father," the prisoner would cry,
+seeing some possibility of escaping punishment.
+
+"Then, my friend, judge for yourself. You have a brain to think with,
+you know I am human, I ought to take compassion on you, sinner though
+you be."
+
+"Your nobility says the absolute truth."
+
+"Yes, I ought to be merciful to you however guilty you may be. But it
+is not I who punish you, it is the law. I serve God and my country, and
+consequently I commit a grave sin if I mitigate the punishment fixed by
+the law. Only think of that!"
+
+"Your nobility!"
+
+"Well, what am I to do? Only think, I know that I am doing wrong, but it
+shall be as you wish; I will have mercy upon you, you shall be punished
+lightly. But if I really do this on one occasion, if I show mercy, if I
+punish you lightly, you will think that at another time I shall be
+merciful, and you will recommence your follies. What do you say to
+that?"
+
+"Your nobility, preserve me! Before the throne of the heavenly Creator,
+I----"
+
+"No, no; you swear that you will behave yourself."
+
+"May the Lord cause me to die this moment and in the next world."
+
+"Do not swear in that way, it is a sin; I shall believe you if you will
+give me your word."
+
+"Your nobility."
+
+"Well, listen, I will have mercy on you on account of your tears, your
+orphan's tears, for you are an orphan, are you not?"
+
+"Orphan on both sides, your nobility, I am alone in the world."
+
+"Well, on account of your orphan's tears I have pity on you," he added,
+in a voice so full of emotion, that the prisoner could not sufficiently
+thank God for having sent him so good an officer.
+
+The procession went out, the drum rolled, the soldiers brandished their
+arms. "Flog him," Jerebiatnikof would roar from the bottom of his lungs,
+"flog him! burn him! skin him alive! Harder! harder! Give it harder to
+this orphan! Give it him, the rogue."
+
+The soldiers lay on the strokes with all their might on the back of the
+unhappy wretch, whose eyes dart fire, and who howls while Jerebiatnikof
+runs after him in front of the line, holding his sides with
+laughter--he puffs and blows so that he can scarcely hold himself
+upright. He is happy. He thinks it droll. From time to time his
+formidable resonant laugh is heard, as he keeps on repeating, "Flog him!
+thrash him! this brigand! this orphan!"
+
+He had composed variation on this motive. The prisoner has been brought
+to undergo his punishment. He begs the lieutenant to have pity on him.
+This time Jerebiatnikof does not play the hypocrite; he is frank with
+the prisoner.
+
+"Look, my dear fellow, I will punish you as you deserve, but I can show
+you one act of mercy. I will not attach you to the butt end of the
+musket, you shall go along in a new style, you have only to run as hard
+as you can along the front, each rod will strike you as a matter of
+course, but it will be over sooner. What do you say to that, will you
+try?"
+
+The prisoner, who has listened, full of mistrust and doubt, says to
+himself: Perhaps this way will not be so bad as the other. If I run with
+all my might, it will not last quite so long, and perhaps all the rods
+will not touch me.
+
+"Well, your nobility, I consent."
+
+"I also consent. Come, mind your business," cries the lieutenant to the
+soldiers. He knew beforehand that not one rod would spare the back of
+the unfortunate wretch; the soldier who failed to hit him would know
+what to expect.
+
+The convict tries to run along the "Green Street," but he does not go
+beyond fifteen men before the rods rain upon his poor spine like hail;
+so that the unfortunate man shrieks out, and falls as if he had been
+struck by a bullet.
+
+"No, your nobility, I prefer to be flogged in the ordinary way," he
+says, managing to get up, pale and frightened. While Jerebiatnikof, who
+knew beforehand how this affair would end, held his sides and burst into
+a laugh.
+
+But I cannot relate all the diversions invented by him, and all that
+was told about him.
+
+My companions also spoke of a Lieutenant Smekaloff, who fulfilled the
+functions of Commandant before the arrival of our present Major. They
+spoke of Jerebiatnikof with indifference, without hatred, but also
+without exalting his high achievements. They did not praise him, they
+simply despised him, whilst at the name of Smekaloff the whole prison
+burst into a chorus of laudation. The Lieutenant was by no means fond of
+administering the rods; there was nothing in him of Jerebiatnikof's
+disposition. How did it happen that the convicts remembered his
+punishments, severe as they were, with sweet satisfaction. How did he
+manage to please them. How did he gain the popularity he certainly
+enjoyed?
+
+Our companions, like Russian people in general, were ready to forget
+their tortures if a kind word was said to them; I speak of the effect
+itself without analysing or examining it. It is not difficult, then, to
+gain the affections of such a people and become popular. Lieutenant
+Smekaloff had gained such popularity, and when the punishments he had
+directed were spoken of, they were always mentioned with a certain
+sympathy.
+
+"He was as kind as a father," the convicts would sometimes say, as, with
+a sigh, they compared him with their present chief, the Major who had
+replaced him.
+
+He was a simple-minded man, and kind in a manner. There are chiefs who
+are naturally kind and merciful, but who are not at all liked and are
+laughed at; whereas, Smekaloff had so managed that all the prisoners had
+a special regard for him; this was due to innate qualities, which those
+who possess them do not understand. Strange thing! There are men who are
+far from being kind, and who have yet the talent of making themselves
+popular; they do not despise the people who are beneath their rule.
+That, I think, is the cause of this popularity. They do not give
+themselves lordly airs; they have no feeling of "caste;" they have a
+certain odour of the people; they are men of birth, and the people at
+once sniff it. They will do anything for such men; they will gladly
+change the mildest and most humane man for a very severe chief, if the
+latter possesses this sort of odour, and especially if the man is also
+genial in his way. Oh! then he is beyond price.
+
+Lieutenant Smekaloff, as I have said, ordered sometimes very severe
+punishments. But he seemed to inflict them in such a way, that the
+prisoners felt no rancour against him. On the contrary, they recalled
+his whipping affairs with laughter; he did not punish frequently, for he
+had no artistic imagination. He had invented only one practical joke, a
+single one which amused him for nearly a year in our convict prison.
+This joke was dear to him, probably, because it was his only one, and it
+was not without humour.
+
+Smekaloff assisted himself at the executions, joking all the time, and
+laughing at the prisoner as he questioned him about the most
+out-of-the-way things, such, for instance, as his private affairs. He
+did this without any bad motive, and simply because he really wished to
+know something about the man's affairs. A chair was brought to him,
+together with the rods which were to be used for chastising the
+prisoner. The Lieutenant sat down and lighted his long pipe; the
+prisoner implored him.
+
+"No, comrade, lie down. What is the matter with you?"
+
+The convict stretched himself on the ground with a sigh.
+
+"Can you read fluently?"
+
+"Of course, your nobility; I am baptized, and I was taught to read when
+I was a child."
+
+"Then read this."
+
+The convict knows beforehand what he is to read, and knows how the
+reading will end, because this joke has been repeated more than thirty
+times; but Smekaloff knows also that the convict is not his dupe any
+more than the soldier who now holds the rods suspended over the back of
+the unhappy victim. The convict begins to read; the soldiers armed with
+the rods await motionless. Smekaloff ceases even to smoke, raises his
+hand, and waits for a word fixed upon beforehand. At the word, which
+from some double meaning might be interpreted as the order to start, the
+Lieutenant raises his hand, and the flogging begins. The officer bursts
+into a laugh, and the soldiers around him also laugh; the man who is
+whipping laughs, and the man who is being whipped also.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE HOSPITAL[4] (_continued_).
+
+
+I have spoken here of punishments and of those who have administered
+them, because I got a very clear idea on the subject during my stay in
+the hospital. Until then I knew of them only by general report. In our
+room were confined all the prisoners from the battalion who were to
+receive the spitzruten [rods], as well as those from the military
+establishment in our town and in the district surrounding it.
+
+During my first few days I looked at all that surrounded me with such
+greedy eyes that these strange manners, these men who had just been
+flogged or were about to be flogged, left upon me a terrible impression.
+I was agitated, frightened.
+
+As I listened to the conversation or narratives of the other prisoners
+on this subject, I put to myself questions which I endeavoured in vain
+to solve. I wished to know all the degrees of the sentences; the
+punishments, and their shades; and to learn the opinion of the convicts
+themselves. I tried to represent to myself the psychological condition
+of the men flogged.
+
+It rarely happened, as I have already said, that the prisoner approached
+the fatal moment in cold blood, even if he had been beaten several times
+before. The condemned man experiences a fear which is very terrible, but
+purely physical--an unconscious fear which upsets his moral nature.
+
+During my several years' stay in the convict prison I was able to study
+at leisure the prisoners who wished to leave the hospital, where they
+had remained some time to have their damaged backs cured before
+receiving the second half of their punishment. This interruption in the
+punishment is always called for by the doctor who assists at the
+execution.
+
+If the number of strokes to be received is too great for them to be
+administered all at once, it is divided according to advice given by the
+doctor on the spot. It is for him to see if the prisoner is in a
+condition to undergo the whole of his punishment, or if his life is in
+danger.
+
+Five hundred, one thousand, and even one thousand five hundred strokes
+with the stick are administered at once. But if it is two or three
+thousand the punishment is divided into two or three doses.
+
+Those whose back had been cured after the first administration, and who
+are to undergo a second, were sad, sombre and silent the day they went
+out, and the evening before. They were almost in a state of torpor. They
+engaged in no conversation, and remained perfectly silent.
+
+It is worthy of remark that the prisoners avoid addressing those who are
+about to be punished, and, above all, never make any allusion to the
+subject, neither in consolation nor in superfluous words. No attention
+whatever is paid to them, which is certainly the best thing for the
+prisoner.
+
+There are exceptions, however.
+
+The convict Orloff, of whom I have already spoken, was sorry that his
+back did not get more quickly cured, for he was anxious to get his
+leave-ticket in order that he might take the rest of his flogging, and
+then be assigned to a convoy of prisoners, when he meant to escape
+during the journey. He had a passionate, ardent nature, and with only
+that object in view.
+
+A cunning rascal, he seemed very pleased when he first came; but he was
+in a state of abnormal excitement, though he endeavoured to conceal it.
+He had been afraid of being left on the ground, and dying before half of
+his punishment had been undergone. He had heard steps taken in his case,
+by the authorities, when he was still being tried, and he thought he
+could not survive the punishment. But when he had received his first
+dose he recovered his courage.
+
+When he came to the hospital I had never seen such wounds as his; but he
+was in the best spirits. He now hoped to be able to live. The stories
+which had reached him were untrue, or the execution would not have been
+interrupted.
+
+He now began to think of a long Siberian journey, possibly of escaping
+to liberty, fields, and forests.
+
+Two days after he had left the hospital he came back to die--on the very
+couch which he had occupied during my stay there.
+
+He had been unable to support the second half of his punishment; but I
+have already spoken of this man.
+
+All the prisoners without exception, even the most pusillanimous, even
+those who were beforehand tormented night and day, supported it
+courageously when it came. I scarcely ever heard groans during the night
+following the execution; our people, as a rule, knew how to endure pain.
+
+I questioned my companion often in reference to this pain, that I might
+know to what kind of suffering it might be compared. It was no idle
+curiosity which urged me. I repeat that I was moved and frightened; but
+it was in vain, I could get no satisfactory reply.
+
+"It burns like fire!" was the general answer; they all said the same
+thing.
+
+First I tried to question M--tski. "It burns like fire! like hell! It
+seems as if one's back were in a furnace."
+
+I made one day a strange observation, which may or may not have been
+well founded, although the opinion of the convicts themselves confirms
+my views; namely, that the rods are the most terrible punishment in use
+among us.
+
+At first it seems absurd, impossible, yet five hundred strokes of the
+rods, four hundred even, are enough to kill a man. Beyond five hundred
+death is almost certain; the most robust man will be unable to support a
+thousand rods, whereas five hundred sticks are endured without much
+inconvenience, and without the least risk in the world of losing one's
+life. A man of ordinary build supports a thousand sticks without danger;
+even two thousand sticks will not kill a man of ordinary strength and
+constitution. All the convicts declared that rods were worse than sticks
+or ramrods.
+
+"Rods hurt more and torture more!" they said.
+
+They must torture more than sticks, that is certain, that is evident;
+for they irritate much more forcibly the nervous system, which they
+excite beyond measure. I do not know whether any person still exists,
+but such did a short time ago, to whom the whipping of a victim procured
+a delight which recalls the Marquis de Sade and the Marchioness
+Brinvilliers. I think this delight must consist in the sinking of the
+heart, and that these nobles must have experienced pain and delight at
+the same time.
+
+There are people who, like tigers, are greedy for blood. Those who have
+possessed unlimited power over the flesh, blood, and soul of their
+fellow-creatures, of their brethren according to the law of Christ,
+those who have possessed this power and who have been able to degrade
+with a supreme degradation, another being made in the image of God;
+these men are incapable of resisting their desires and their thirst for
+sensations. Tyranny is a habit capable of being developed, and at last
+becomes a disease. I declare that the best man in the world can become
+hardened and brutified to such a point, that nothing will distinguish
+him from a wild beast. Blood and power intoxicate; they aid the
+development of callousness and debauchery; the mind then becomes capable
+of the most abnormal cruelty in the form of pleasure; the man and the
+citizen disappear for ever in the tyrant; and then a return to human
+dignity, repentance, moral resurrection, becomes almost impossible.
+
+That the possibility of such license has a contagious effect on the
+whole of society there is no doubt. A society which looks upon such
+things with an indifferent eye, is already infected to the marrow. In a
+word, the right granted to a man to inflict corporal punishment on his
+fellow-men, is one of the plague-spots of our society. It is the means
+of annihilating all civic spirit. Such a right contains in germ the
+elements of inevitable, imminent decomposition.
+
+Society despises an executioner by trade, but not a lordly executioner.
+Every manufacturer, every master of works, must feel an irritating
+pleasure when he reflects that the workman he has beneath his orders is
+dependent upon him with the whole of his family. A generation does not,
+I am sure, extirpate so quickly what is hereditary in it. A man cannot
+renounce what is in his blood, what has been transmitted to him with his
+mother's milk; these revolutions are not accomplished so quickly. It is
+not enough to confess one's fault. That is very little! Very little
+indeed! It must be rooted out, and that is not done so quickly.
+
+I have spoken of the executioners. The instincts of an executioner are
+in germ in nearly every one of our contemporaries; but the animal
+instincts of the man have not developed themselves in a uniform manner.
+When they stifle all other faculties, the man becomes a hideous monster.
+
+There are two kinds of executioners, those who of their own will are
+executioners and those who are executioners by duty, by reason of
+office. He who, by his own will, is an executioner, is in all respects
+below the salaried executioner, whom, however, the people look upon with
+repugnance, and who inspires them with disgust, with instinctive
+mystical fear. Whence comes this almost superstitious horror for the
+latter, when one is only indifferent and indulgent to the former?
+
+I know strange examples of honourable men, kind, esteemed by all their
+friends, who found it necessary that a culprit should be whipped until
+he would implore and beg for mercy; it seemed to them a natural thing, a
+thing recognised as indispensable. If the victim did not choose to cry
+out, his executioner, whom in other respects I should consider a good
+man, looked upon it as a personal offence; he meant, in the first
+instance, to inflict only a light punishment, but directly he failed to
+hear the habitual supplications, "Your nobility!" "Have mercy!" "Be a
+father to me!" "Let me thank God all my life!" he became furious, and
+ordered that fifty more blows should be administered, hoping thus, at
+last, to obtain the necessary cries and supplications; and at last they
+came.
+
+"Impossible! he is too insolent," cried the man in question, very
+seriously.
+
+As for the executioner by office, he is a convict who has been chosen
+for this function. He passes an apprenticeship with an old hand, and as
+soon as he knows his trade remains in the convict prison, where he lives
+by himself. He has a room, which he shares with no one. Sometimes,
+indeed, he has a separate establishment, but he is always under guard. A
+man is not a machine. Although he whips by virtue of his office, he
+sometimes becomes furious, and beats with a certain pleasure.
+Notwithstanding he has no hatred for his victim, a desire to show his
+skill in the art of whipping may sharpen his vanity. He works as an
+artist; he knows well that he is a reprobate, and that he excites
+everywhere superstitious dread. It is impossible that this should
+exercise no influence upon him, and not irritate his brutal instincts.
+
+Even little children say that this man has neither father nor mother.
+Strange thing!
+
+All the executioners I have known were intelligent men, possessing a
+certain degree of conceit. This conceit became developed in them through
+the contempt which they everywhere met with, and was strengthened,
+perhaps, by the consciousness of the fear with which they inspired their
+victims, and of the power over unfortunate wretches.
+
+The theatrical paraphernalia surrounding them developed, perhaps, in
+them a certain arrogance. I had for some time an opportunity of meeting
+and observing at close quarters an ordinary executioner. He was a man
+about forty, muscular, dry, with an agreeable, intelligent face,
+surrounded by long curly hair. His manners were quiet and grave, his
+general demeanour becoming. He replied clearly and sensibly to all
+questions put to him, but with a sort of condescension as if he were in
+some way my superior. The officers of the guard spoke to him with a
+certain respect, which he fully appreciated, for which reason, in
+presence of his chiefs, he became polite, and more dignified than ever.
+
+He never departed from the most refined politeness. I am sure that, when
+I was speaking to him, he felt incomparably superior to the man who was
+addressing him. I could read that in his countenance. Sometimes he was
+sent under escort, in summer, when it was very hot, to kill the dogs of
+the town with a long, very thin spear. These wandering dogs increased in
+numbers with such prodigious rapidity, and became so dangerous during
+the dog days, that, by the decision of the authorities, the executioner
+was ordered to destroy them. This degrading duty did not in any way
+humiliate him. It should have been seen with what gravity he walked
+through the streets of the town, accompanied by a soldier escorting him;
+how, with a single glance, he frightened the women and children; and
+how, from the height of his grandeur, he looked down upon the passers-by
+generally.
+
+Executioners live at their ease. They have money to travel comfortably,
+and drink vodka. They derive most of their income from presents which
+the prisoners condemned to be flogged slip into their hands before the
+execution. When they have to do with convicts who are rich, they then
+fix a sum to be paid in proportion to the means of the victim. They will
+exact thirty roubles, sometimes more. The executioner has no right to
+spare his victim; and he does so at the risk of his own back. But for a
+suitable present he agrees not to strike too hard. People almost always
+give what he asks; should they in any case refuse, he would strike like
+a savage; and it is in his power to do so. He sometimes exacts a heavy
+sum from a man who is very poor. Then all the relations of the victim
+are put in movement. They bargain, try and beat him down, supplicate
+him; but it will not be well if they do not succeed in satisfying him.
+In such a case the superstitious fear inspired by the executioner stands
+them in good part. I had been told the most wonderful things--that at
+one blow the executioner can kill his man.
+
+"Is this your experience?" I asked.
+
+Perhaps so. Who knows? Their tone seemed to decide, if there could be
+any doubt about it. They also told me that he can strike a criminal in
+such a way that he will not feel the least pain, and without leaving a
+scar.
+
+Even when the executioner receives a present not to whip too severely,
+he gives the first blow with all his strength. It is the custom! Then he
+administers the other blows with less severity, above all if he has been
+well paid.
+
+I do not know why this is done. Is it to prepare the victim for the
+succeeding blows, which will appear less painful after the first cruel
+one; or do they want to frighten the criminal, so that he may know with
+whom he has to deal; or do they simply wish to display their vigour from
+vanity? In any case the executioner is slightly excited before the
+execution, and he is conscious of his strength and of his power. He is
+acting at the time; the public admires him, and is filled with terror.
+Accordingly, it is not without satisfaction that he cries out to his
+victim, "Look out! you are going to have it!"--customary and fatal words
+which precede the first blow.
+
+It is difficult to imagine a human being degraded to such a point.
+
+The first day of my stay at the hospital I listened attentively to the
+stories of the convicts, which broke the monotony of the long days.
+
+In the morning, the doctor's visit was the first diversion. Then came
+dinner, which it will be believed was the most important affair of our
+daily life. The portions were different according to the nature of the
+illness: some of the prisoners received nothing but broth with groats in
+it; others nothing but gruel; others a kind of semolina, which was much
+liked. The convicts ended by becoming effeminate and fastidious. The
+convalescents received a piece of boiled beef. The best food, which was
+reserved for the scorbutic patients, consisted of roast beef with
+onions, horseradish, and sometimes a small glass of spirits. The bread
+was, according to the illness, black or brown; the precision preserved
+in distributing the rations would make the patients laugh.
+
+There were some who took absolutely nothing; the portions were exchanged
+in such a way that the food intended for one patient was eaten by
+another: those who were being kept on low diet, who received only small
+rations, bought those of the scorbutic patients; others would give any
+price for meat. There were some who ate two entire portions; it cost
+them a good deal, for they were generally sold at five kopecks each. If
+one had no meat to sell in our room the warder was sent to another
+section, and if he could not find any there he was asked to get some
+from the military "infirmary"--the free infirmary, as we called it.
+
+There were always patients ready to sell their rations; poverty was
+general, and those who possessed a few kopecks used to send out to buy
+cakes and white bread, or other delicacies, at the market. Warders
+executed these commissions in a disinterested manner. The most painful
+moment was that which followed the dinner; some went to sleep, if they
+had no other way of passing their time; others either wrangled or told
+stories in a loud voice.
+
+When no new patients were brought in, everything became very dull. The
+arrival of a new patient caused always a certain excitement, above all,
+if no one knew anything about him; he was questioned about his past
+life.
+
+The most interesting ones were the birds of passage: they had always
+something to tell.
+
+Of course they never spoke of their own little faults. If the prisoner
+did not enter upon this subject himself, no one questioned him about it.
+
+The only thing he was asked was, what quarter he came from? who were
+with him on the road? what state the road was in? where he was being
+taken to? etc. Stimulated by the stories of the new comers, our comrades
+in their turn began to tell what they had seen and done; what was most
+talked about was the convoys, those in command of them, the men who
+carried the sentences into execution.
+
+About this time, too, towards evening, the convicts who had been
+scourged came up; they always made a rather strong impression, as I have
+said; but it was not every day that any of these were brought to us, and
+everybody was bored to extinction, when nothing happened to give a
+fillip to the general relaxed and indolent state of feeling. It seemed,
+then, as though the sick themselves were exasperated at the very sight
+of those near them. Sometimes they squabbled violently.
+
+Our convicts were in high glee when a madman was taken off for medical
+examination; sometimes those who were sentenced to be scourged, feigned
+insanity that they might get off. The trick was found out, or it would
+sometimes be that they voluntarily gave up the pretence. Prisoners, who
+during two or three days had done all sorts of wild things, suddenly
+became steady and sensible people, quieted down, and, with a gloomy
+smile, asked to be taken out of the hospital. Neither the other convicts
+nor the doctors said a word of remonstrance to them about the deceit, or
+brought up the subject of their mad pranks. Their names were put down on
+a list without a word being said, and they were simply taken elsewhere;
+after the lapse of some days they came back to us with their backs all
+wounds and blood.
+
+On the other hand, the arrival of a genuine lunatic was a miserable
+thing to see all through the place. Those of the mentally unsound who
+were gay, lively, who uttered cries, danced, sang, were greeted at first
+with enthusiasm by the convicts.
+
+"Here's fun!" said they, as they looked on the grins and contortions of
+the unfortunates. But the sight was horribly painful and sad. I have
+never been able to look upon the mad calmly or with indifference. There
+was one who was kept three weeks in our room: we would have hidden
+ourselves, had there been any place to do it. When things were at the
+worst they brought in another. This one affected me very powerfully.
+
+In the first year, or, to be more exact, during the first month of my
+exile, I went to work with a gang of kiln men to the tileries situate at
+two versts from our prison. We were set to repairing the kiln in which
+the bricks were baked in summer. That morning, in which M--tski and B.
+made me acquainted with the non-commissioned officer, superintendent of
+the works. This was a Pole already well on in life, sixty years old at
+least, of high stature, lean, of decent and even somewhat imposing
+exterior. He had been a long time in service in Siberia, and although he
+belonged to the lower orders he had been a soldier, and in the rising of
+1830--M--tski and B. loved and esteemed him. He was always reading the
+Vulgate. I spoke to him; his talk was agreeable and intelligent; he told
+a story in a most interesting way; he was straightforward and of
+excellent temper. For two years I never saw him again, all I heard was
+that he had become a "case," and that they were inquiring into it; and
+then one fine day they brought him into our room; he had gone quite mad.
+
+He came in yelling, uttering shouts of laughter, and began to dance in
+the middle of the room with indecent gestures which recalled the dance
+known as Kamarinska�a.
+
+The convicts were wild with enthusiasm; but, for my part, account for it
+as you will, I felt utterly miserable. Three days after, we were all of
+us upset with it; he got into violent disputes with everybody, fought,
+groaned, sang in the dead of the night; his aberrations were so
+inordinate and disgusting as to bring our very stomachs up.
+
+He feared nobody. They put the strait-waistcoat on him; but we were no
+whit better off for it, for he went on quarreling and fighting all
+round. At the end of three weeks, the room put up an unanimous entreaty
+to the head doctor that he might be removed to the other apartment
+reserved for the convicts. But after two days, at the request of the
+sick people in that other room, they brought him back to our infirmary.
+As we had two madmen there at once, both rooms kept sending them back
+and forward, and ended by taking one or the other of the two lunatics,
+turn and turn about. Everybody breathed more freely when they took them
+away from us, a good way off, somewhere or other.
+
+There was another lunatic whom I remember--a very remarkable creature.
+They had brought in, during the summer, a man under sentence, who
+looked like a solid and vigorous fellow enough, of about forty-five
+years. His face was sombre and sad, pitted with small-pox, with little
+red and swollen eyes. He sat down by my side. He was extremely quiet;
+spoke to nobody, and seemed utterly absorbed in his own deep
+reflections.
+
+Night fell; then he addressed me, and, without a word of preface, told
+me in a hurried and excited way--as if it were a mighty secret he were
+confiding--that he was to have two thousand strokes with the rod; but
+that he had nothing to fear, as the daughter of Colonel G---- was taking
+steps on his behalf.
+
+I looked at him with surprise, and observed that, as I saw the affair,
+the daughter of a Colonel could be of little use in such a case. I had
+not yet guessed what sort of person I had to do with, for they had
+brought him to the hospital as a bodily sick person, not mentally. I
+then asked him what illness he was suffering from.
+
+He answered that he knew nothing about it; that he had been sent among
+us for something or other; but that he was in good health, and that the
+Colonel's daughter had fallen in love with him. Two weeks before she had
+passed in a carriage before the guard-house, where he was looking
+through the barred window, and she had gone head over ears in love at
+the mere sight of him.
+
+After that important moment she had come three times to the guard-house
+on different pretexts. The first time with her father, ostensibly to
+visit her brother, who was the officer on service; the second with her
+mother, to distribute alms to the prisoners. As she passed in front of
+him she had muttered that she loved him and would get him out of prison.
+
+He told me all this nonsense with minute and exact details; all of it
+pure figment of his poor disordered head. He believed devoutly and
+implicitly that his punishment would be graciously remitted. He spoke
+very calmly, and with all assurance of the passionate love he had
+inspired in this young lady.
+
+This odd and romantic delusion about the love of quite a young girl of
+good breeding, for a man nearly fifty years and afflicted with a face so
+disfigured and gloomy, simply showed the fearful effect produced by the
+fear of the punishment he was to have, upon the poor, timid creature.
+
+It may be that he had really seen some one through the bars of the
+window, and the insanity, germinating under excess of fear, had found
+shape and form in the delusion in question.
+
+This unfortunate soldier, who, it may be warranted, had never given a
+thought to young ladies, had got this romance into his diseased fancy,
+and clung convulsively to this wild hope. I heard him in silence, and
+then told the story to the other convicts. When these questioned him in
+their natural curiosity, he preserved a chastely discreet silence.
+
+Next day the doctor examined him. As the madman averred that he was not
+ill, he was put down on the list as qualified to be sent out. We learned
+that the physician had scribbled "_Sanat. est_" on the page, when it was
+quite too late to give him warning. Besides, we were ourselves not by
+any means sure what was really the matter with the man.
+
+The error was with the authorities who had sent him to us, without
+specifying for what reason it was thought necessary to have him come
+into the hospital--which was unpardonable negligence.
+
+However, two days later the unhappy creature was taken out to be
+scourged. We understood that he was dumbfounded by finding, contrary to
+his fixed expectation, that he really was to have the punishment. To the
+last moment he thought he would be pardoned, and when conducted to the
+front of the battalion, he began to cry for help.
+
+As there was no room or bedding-place now in our apartment they sent him
+to the infirmary. I heard that for eight entire days he did not utter a
+single word, and remained in stupid and misery-stricken mental
+confusion. When his back was cured they took him off. I never heard a
+single further word about him.
+
+As to the treatment of the sick and the remedies prescribed, those who
+were but slightly indisposed paid no attention whatever to the
+directions of the doctors, and never took their medicines; while,
+speaking generally, those really ill were very careful in following the
+doctor's orders; they took their mixtures and powders; they took all the
+possible care they could of themselves; but they preferred external to
+internal remedies.
+
+Cupping-glasses, leeches, cataplasms, blood-lettings--in all which
+things the populace has so blind a confidence--were held in high honour
+in our hospital. Inflictions of that sort were regarded with
+satisfaction.
+
+There was one thing quite strange, and to me interesting. Fellows, who
+stood without a murmur the frightful tortures caused by the rods and
+scourges, howled, and grinned, and moaned for the least little ailment.
+Whether it was all pretence or not, I really cannot say.
+
+We had cuppings of a quite peculiar kind. The machine with which
+instantaneous incisions in the skin are produced, was all out of order,
+so they had to use the lancet.
+
+For a cupping, twelve incisions are necessary; with a machine these are
+not painful at all, for it makes them instantaneously; with the lancet
+it is a different affair altogether--that cuts slowly, and makes the
+patient suffer. If you have to make ten openings there will be about one
+hundred and twenty pricks, and these very painful. I had to undergo it
+myself; besides the pain itself, it caused great nervous irritation; but
+the suffering was not so great that one could not contain himself from
+groaning if he tried.
+
+It was laughable to see great, hulking fellows wriggling and howling.
+One couldn't help comparing them to some men, firm and calm enough in
+really serious circumstances, but all ill-temper or caprice in the bosom
+of their families for nothing at all; if dinner is late or the like,
+then they'll scold and swear; everything puts them out; they go wrong
+with everybody; the more comfortable they really are, the more
+troublesome are they to other people. Characters of this sort, common
+enough among the lower orders, were but too numerous in our prison, by
+reason of our company being forced on one another.
+
+Sometimes the prisoners chaffed or insulted the thin-skins I speak of,
+and then they would leave off complaining directly; as if they only
+wanted to be insulted to make them hold their tongues.
+
+Oustiantsef was no friend of grimacings of this kind, and never let slip
+an opportunity of bringing that sort of delinquent to his bearings.
+Besides, he was fond of scolding; it was a sort of necessity with him,
+engendered by illness and also his stupidity. He would first fix his
+gaze upon you for some time, and then treat you to a long speech of
+threatening and warning, and a tone of calm and impartial conviction. It
+looked as though he thought his function in this world was to watch over
+order and morality in general.
+
+"He must poke his nose into everything," the prisoners with a laugh used
+to say; for they pitied, and did what they could to avoid conflicts with
+him.
+
+"Has he chattered enough? Three waggons wouldn't be too much to carry
+away all his talk."
+
+"Why need you put your oar in? One is not going to put himself about for
+a mere idiot. What's there to cry out about at a mere touch of a
+lancet?"
+
+"What harm in the world do you fancy _that_ is going to do you?"
+
+"No, comrades," a prisoner strikes in, "the cuppings are a mere nothing.
+I know the taste of them. But the most horrid thing is when they pull
+your ears for a long time together. That just shuts you up."
+
+All the prisoners burst out laughing.
+
+"Have you had them pulled?"
+
+"By Jove, yes, I should think he had."
+
+"That's why they stick upright, like hop-poles."
+
+This convict, Chapkin by name, really had long and quite erect ears. He
+had long led a vagabond life, was still quite young, intelligent, and
+quiet, and used to talk with a dry sort of humour with much seriousness
+on the surface, which made his stories very comical.
+
+"How in the world was I to know you had had your ears pulled and
+lengthened, brainless idiot?" began Oustiantsef, once more wrathfully
+addressing Chapkin, who, however, vouchsafed no attention to his
+companion's obliging apostrophe.
+
+"Well, who did pull your ears for you?" some one asked.
+
+"Why, the police superintendent, by Jove, comrades! Our offence was
+wandering about without fixed place of abode. We had just got into
+K----, I and another tramp, Eptinie; he had no family name, that fellow.
+On the way we had fixed ourselves up a little in the hamlet of Tolmina;
+yes, there is a hamlet that's got just that name--Tolmina. Well, we get
+to the town, and are just looking about us a little to see if there's a
+good stroke of tramp-business to do, after which we mean to flit. You
+know, out in the open country you're as free as air; but it's not
+exactly the same thing in the town. First thing, we go into a
+public-house; as we open the door we give a sharp look all round. What's
+there? A sunburnt fellow in a German coat all out at elbows, walks right
+up to us. One thing and another comes up, when he says to us:
+
+"'Pray excuse me for asking if you have any papers [passport] with you?'
+
+"'No, we haven't.'
+
+"'Nor have we either. I have two comrades besides these with me who are
+in the service of General Cuckoo [forest tramps, _i.e._, who hear the
+birds sing]. We have been seeing life a bit, and just now haven't a
+penny to bless ourselves with. May I take the liberty of requesting you
+to be so obliging as to order a quart of brandy?'
+
+"'With the greatest pleasure,' that's what we say to him. So we drink
+together. Then they tell us of a place where there's a real good stroke
+of business to be done--a house at the end of the town belonging to a
+wealthy merchant fellow; lots of good things there, so we make up our
+minds to try the job during the night; five of us, and the very moment
+we are going at it they pounce on us, take us to the station-house, and
+then before the head of the police. He says, 'I shall examine them
+myself.' Out he goes with his pipe, and they bring in for him a cup of
+tea; a sturdy fellow it was, with whiskers. Besides us five, there were
+three other tramps, just brought in. You know, comrades, that there's
+nothing in this world more funny than a tramp, because he always forgets
+everything he's done. You may thump his head till you're tired with a
+cudgel; all the same, you'll get but one answer, that he has forgotten
+all about everything.
+
+"The police superintendent then turns to me and asks me squarely,
+
+"'Who may you be?'
+
+"I answer just like all the rest of them:
+
+"'I've forgotten all about it, your worship.'
+
+"'Just you wait; I've a word or two more to say to you. I know your
+phiz.'
+
+"Then he gives me a good long stare. But I hadn't seen him anywhere
+before, that's a fact.
+
+"Then he asks another of them, 'Who are you?'
+
+"'Mizzle-and-scud, your worship.'
+
+"'They call you Mizzle-and-scud?'
+
+"'Precisely that, your worship.'
+
+"'Well and good, you're Mizzle-and-scud! And you?' to a third.
+
+"'Along-of-him, your worship.'
+
+"'But what's your name--your name?'
+
+"'Me? I'm called Along-of-him, your worship.'
+
+"'Who gave you that name, hound?'
+
+"'Very worthy people, your worship. There are lots of worthy people
+about; nobody knows that better than your worship.'
+
+"'And who may these "worthy people" be?'
+
+"'Oh, Lord, it has slipped my memory, your worship. Do be so kind and
+gracious as to overlook it.'
+
+"'So you've forgotten them, all of them, these "worthy people"?'
+
+"'Every mother's son of them, your worship.'
+
+"'But you must have had relations--a father, a mother. Do you remember
+them?'
+
+"'I suppose I must have had, your worship; but I've forgotten about 'em,
+my memory is so bad. Now I come to think about it, I'm sure I had some,
+your worship.'
+
+"'But where have you been living till now?'
+
+"'In the woods, your worship.'
+
+"'Always in the woods?'
+
+"'Always in the woods!'
+
+"'Winter too?'
+
+"'Never saw any winter, your worship.'
+
+"'Get along with you! And you--what's your name?'
+
+"'Hatchets-and-axes, your worship.'
+
+"'And yours?'
+
+"'Sharp-and-mum, your worship.'
+
+"'And you?'
+
+"'Keen-and-spry, your worship.'
+
+"'And not a soul of you remembers anything that ever happened to you.'
+
+"'Not a mother's son of us anything whatever.'
+
+"He couldn't help it; he laughed out loud. All the rest began to laugh
+at seeing him laugh! But the thing does not always go off like that.
+Sometimes they lay about them, these police, with their fists, till you
+get every tooth in your jaw smashed. Devilish big and strong these
+fellows, I can tell you.
+
+"'Take them off to the lock-up,' said he. 'I'll see to them in a bit. As
+for you, stop here!'
+
+"That's me.
+
+"'Just you go and sit down there.'
+
+"Where he pointed to there was paper, a pen, and ink; so thinks I,
+'What's he up to now?'
+
+"'Sit down,' he says again; 'take the pen and write.'
+
+"And then he goes and clutches at my ear and gives it a good pull. I
+looked at him in the sort of way the devil may look at a priest.
+
+"'I can't write, your worship.'
+
+"'Write, write!'
+
+"'Have mercy on me, your worship!'
+
+"'Write your best; write, write!'
+
+"And all the while he keeps pulling my ear, pulling and twisting. Pals,
+I'd rather have had three hundred strokes of the cat; I tell you it was
+hell.
+
+"'Write, write!' that was all he said."
+
+"Had the fellow gone mad? What the mischief was it?
+
+"Bless us, no! A little while before, a secretary had done a stroke of
+business at Tobolsk: he had robbed the local treasury and gone off with
+the money; he had very big ears, just as I have. They had sent the fact
+all over the country. I answered to that description; that's why he
+tormented me with his 'Write, write!' He wanted to find out if I could
+write, and to see my hand.
+
+"'A regular sharp chap that! Did it hurt?'
+
+"'Oh, Lord, don't say a word about it, I beg.'
+
+"Everybody burst out laughing.
+
+"'Well, you did write?'
+
+"'What the deuce was there to write? I set my pen going over the paper,
+and did it to such good account that he left off torturing me. He just
+gave me a dozen thumps, regulation allowance, and then let me go about
+my business: to prison, that is.'
+
+"'Do you really know how to write?'
+
+"'Of course I did. What d'ye mean? Used to very well; forgotten the
+whole blessed thing, though, ever since they began to use pens for it.'"
+
+Thanks to the gossip talk of the convicts who filled the hospital, time
+was somewhat quickened for us. But still, Almighty God, how wearied and
+bored we were! Long, long were the days, suffocating in their monotony,
+one absolutely the same as another. If only I had had a single book.
+
+For all that I went often to the infirmary, especially in the early days
+of my banishment, either because I was ill or because I needed rest,
+just to get out of the worse parts of the prison. In those life was
+indeed made a burden to us, worse even than in the hospital, especially
+as regards the effect upon moral sentiment and good feeling. We of the
+nobility were the never-ceasing objects of envious dislike, quarrels
+picked with us all the time, something done every moment to put us in
+the wrong, looks filled with menacing hatred unceasingly directed on us!
+Here, in the sick-rooms, one lived on a sort of footing of equality,
+there was something of comradeship.
+
+The most melancholy moment of the twenty-four hours was evening, when
+night set in. We went to bed very early. A smoky lamp just gave us one
+point of light at the very end of the room, near the door. In our corner
+we were almost in complete darkness. The air was pestilential, stifling.
+Some of the sick people could not get to sleep, would rise up, and
+remain sitting for an hour together on their beds, with their heads
+bent, as though they were in deep reflection. These I would look at
+steadily, trying to guess what they might be thinking of; thus I tried
+to kill time. Then I became lost in my own reveries; the past came up to
+me again, showing itself to my imagination in large powerful outlines
+filled with high lights and massive shadows, details that at any other
+time would have remained in oblivion, presented themselves in vivid
+force, making on me an impression impossible under any other
+circumstances.
+
+Then I would begin to muse dreamily on the future. When shall I leave
+this place of restraint, this dreadful prison? Whither betake myself?
+What will then befall me? Shall I return to the place of my birth? So I
+brood, and brood, until hope lives once again in my soul.
+
+Another time I would begin to count, one, two, three, etc., to see if
+sleep could be won that way. I would set sometimes as far as three
+thousand, and was as wakeful as ever. Then somebody would turn in his
+bed.
+
+Then there's Oustiantsef coughing, that cough of the hopelessly-gone
+consumptive, and then he would groan feebly, and stammer, "My God, I've
+sinned, I've sinned!"
+
+How frightful it was, that voice of the sick man, that broken, dying
+voice, in the midst of that silence so dead and complete! In a corner
+there are some sick people not yet asleep, talking in a low voice,
+stretched on their pallets. One of them is telling the story of his
+life, all about things infinitely far off; things that have fled for
+ever; he is talking of his trampings through the world, of his children,
+his wife, the old ways of his life. And the very accent of the man's
+voice tells you that all those things are for ever over for him, that he
+is as a limb cut off from the world of men, cut off, thrown aside; there
+is another, listening intently to what he is saying. A weak, feeble sort
+of muttering and murmuring comes to one's ear from far-off in the dreary
+room, a sound as of far-off water flowing somewhere.... I remember that
+one time, during a winter night that seemed as if it would never end, I
+heard a story which at first seemed as if it were the stammerings of a
+creature in nightmare, or the delirium of fever. Here it is:
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[4] What I relate about corporal punishment took place during my time.
+Now, as I am told, everything is changed, and is changing still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA
+
+
+It was late at night, about eleven o'clock. I had been sleeping some
+time and woke up with a start. The wan and weak light of the distant
+lamp barely lit the room. Nearly everybody was fast asleep, even
+Oustiantsef; in the quiet of the night I heard his difficult breathing,
+and the rattlings in his throat with every respiration. In the
+ante-chamber sounded the heavy and distant footsteps of the patrol as
+the men came up. The butt of a gun struck the floor with its low and
+heavy sound.
+
+The door of the room was opened, and the corporal counted the sick,
+stepping softly about the place. After a minute or so he closed the door
+again, leaving a fresh sentinel there; the patrol went off, silence
+reigned again. It was only then that I observed two prisoners, not far
+from me, who were not sleeping, and who seemed to be holding a muttered
+conversation. Sometimes, in fact, it would happen that a couple of sick
+people, whose beds adjoined and who had not exchanged a word for weeks,
+would all of a sudden break out into conversation with one another, in
+the middle of the night, and one of them would tell the other his
+history.
+
+Probably they had been speaking for some considerable time. I did not
+hear the beginning of it, and could not at first seize upon their words,
+but little by little I got familiar with the muttered sounds, and
+understood all that was going on. I had not the least desire for sleep
+on me, so what could I do but listen.
+
+One of them was telling his story with some warmth, half-lying on his
+bed, with his head lifted and stretched towards his companion. He was
+plainly excited to no little degree; the necessity of speech was on him.
+
+The man listening was sitting up on his pallet, with a gloomy and
+indifferent air, his legs stretched out flat on the mattress, and now
+and again murmured some words in reply, more out of politeness than
+interest, and kept stuffing his nose with snuff from a horn box. This
+was the soldier Tech�r�vin, one of the company of discipline; a morose,
+cold-reasoning pedant, an idiot full of _amour propre_; while the
+narrator was Chichkof, about thirty years old; this was a civilian
+convict, whom up to that time I had not at all observed; and during the
+whole time I was at the prison I never could get up the smallest
+interest in him, for he was a conceited, heady fellow.
+
+Sometimes he would hold his tongue for weeks together, and look sulky
+and brutal enough for anything; then all of a sudden he would strike
+into anything that was going on, behave insufferably, go into a white
+heat about nothing at all, and tell you long stories with nothing in
+them whatever about one barrack or another, blowing abuse on all the
+world, and acting like a man beside himself. Then some one would give
+him a hiding, and he would have another fit of silence. He was a mean
+and cowardly fellow, and the object of general contempt. His stature
+was low, he had little flesh on him, he had wandering eyes, though they
+sometimes got mixed and seemed filled with a stupid sort of thinking.
+When he told you anything he worked himself into a fever, gesticulated
+wildly, suddenly broke off and went to another subject, lost himself in
+fresh details, and at last forgot altogether what he was talking about.
+He often got into squabbles, this Chichkof, and when he poured insult on
+his adversary, he spoke with a sentimental whine and was affected nearly
+to tears. He was not a bad hand at playing the _balalaika_, and had a
+weakness for it; on f�te days he would show you his dancing powers when
+others set him at it, and he danced by no means badly. You could easily
+enough make him do what you wanted ... not that he was of a complying
+turn, but he liked to please and to get intimate with fellows.
+
+For some considerable time I couldn't understand the story Chichkoff was
+telling; that night I mean. It seemed to me as though he were constantly
+rambling from the point to talk of something else. Perhaps he had
+observed that Tch�r�vine was paying little attention to the narrative,
+but I fancy that he was minded to overlook this indifference, so as not
+to take offence.
+
+"When he went out on business," he continued, "every one saluted him
+politely, paid him every respect ... a fellow with money that."
+
+"You say that he was in some trade or other."
+
+"Yes; trade indeed! The trading class in my country is wretchedly
+ill-off; just poverty-stricken. The women go to the river and fetch
+water from ever such a distance to water their gardens. They wear
+themselves to the very bone, and, for all that, when winter comes, they
+haven't got enough to make a mere cabbage soup. I tell you it's
+starvation. But that fellow had a good lump of land, which his labourers
+cultivated; he had three. Then he had hives, and sold his honey; he was
+a cattle-dealer too; a much respected man in our parts. He was very old
+and quite gray, his seventy years lay heavy on his old bones. When he
+came to the market-place with his fox-skin pelisse, everybody saluted
+him.
+
+"'Good-day, daddy Aukoudim Trophimtych!'
+
+"'Good-day,' he'd return.
+
+"'How are you getting along;' he never looked down on any one.
+
+"'God keep you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!'
+
+"'How goes business with you?'
+
+"'Business is as good as tallow's white with me; and how's yours,
+daddy?'
+
+"'We've just got enough of a livelihood to pay the price of sin; always
+sweating over our bit of land.'
+
+"'Lord preserve you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!'
+
+"He never looked down on anybody. All his advice was always worth
+having; every one of his words was worth a rouble. A great reader he
+was, quite a man of learning; but he stuck to religious books. He would
+call his old wife and say to her, 'Listen, woman, take well in what I
+say;' then he would explain things. His old Marie St�panovna was not
+exactly an old woman, if you please; it was his second wife; he had
+married her to have children, his first wife had not brought him any. He
+had two boys still quite young, for the second of them was born when his
+father was close on sixty; Akoulka, his daughter, was eighteen years
+old, she was the eldest."
+
+"Your wife? Isn't it so?"
+
+"Wait a bit, wait. Then Philka Marosof begins to kick up a row. Says he
+to Aukoudim: 'Let's split the difference. Give me back my four hundred
+roubles. I'm not your beast of burden; I don't want to do any more
+business with you, and I don't want to marry your Akoulka. I want to
+have my fling now that my parents are dead. I'll liquor away my money,
+then I'll engage myself, 'list for a soldier; and in ten years I'll come
+back here a field-marshal!' Aukoudim gave him back his money--all he
+had of his. You see he and Philka's father had both put in money and
+done business together.
+
+"'You're a lost man,' that's what he said to Philka.
+
+"'Whether I'm a lost man or not, old gray-beard, you're the biggest
+cheat I know. You'd try to screw a fortune out of four farthings, and
+pick up all the dirt about to do it with. I spit upon it. There you are
+piling up here, digging deep there, the devil only knows why. I've got a
+will of my own, I tell you. All the same I won't take your Akoulka; I've
+slept with her already.'
+
+"'How dare you insult a respectable father--a respectable girl? When did
+you sleep with her, you spawn of the sucker, you dog, you hound,
+you----?' said Aukoudim shaking with passion. (Philka told us all this
+later).
+
+"'I'll not only not marry your daughter, but I'll take good care that
+nobody marries her, not even Mikita Grigoritch, for she's a disreputable
+girl. We had a fine time together, she and I, all last autumn. I don't
+want her at any price. All the money in the world wouldn't make me take
+her.'
+
+"Then the fellow went and had high jinks for a while. All the town was
+as one man in sending up a cry against him. He got a lot of other
+fellows round him, for he had a heap of money. Three months he had of
+it. Such recklessness as you never heard of. Every penny went.
+
+"'I want to see the end of this money. I'll sell the house; everything;
+then I'll 'list or go on the tramp.'
+
+"He was drunk from morning to evening, and went about with a carriage
+and pair.
+
+"The girls liked him well, I tell you, for he played the guitar very
+nicely."
+
+"Then it is true that he had been too well with this Akoulka?"
+
+"Wait, wait, can't you? I had just buried my father. My mother lived by
+baking gingerbread. We got our livelihood by working for Aukoudim;
+barely enough to eat, a precious hard life it was. We had a bit of land
+the other side of the woods, and grew corn there; but when my father
+died I went on a spree. I made my mother give me money; but I had to
+give her a good hiding first."
+
+"You were very wrong to beat her; a great sin that?"
+
+"Sometimes I was drunk the whole blessed day. We had a house that was
+just tumbling to pieces with dry rot, still it was our own; we were as
+near famished as could be; for weeks together we had nothing but rags to
+chew. Mother nearly killed me with one stupid trick or another, but I
+didn't care a curse. Philka Marosof and I were always together day and
+night. 'Play the guitar to me,' he'd say, 'and I'll lie in bed the
+while. I'll throw money to you, for I'm the richest chap in the world!'
+The fellow could not speak without lying. There was only one thing. He
+wouldn't touch a thing if it had been stolen. 'I'm no thief, I'm an
+honest man. Let's go and daub Akoulka's door with pitch,[5] for I won't
+have her marry Mikita Grigoritch, I'll stick to that.'
+
+"The old man had long meant to give his daughter to this Mikita
+Grigoritch. He was a man well on in life, in trade too, and wore
+spectacles. When he heard the story of Akoulka's bad conduct, he said to
+the old father, 'That would be a terrible disgrace for me, Aukoudim
+Trophimtych; on the whole, I've made up my mind not to marry; it's to
+late.'
+
+"So we went and daubed Akoulka's door all over with pitch. When we'd
+done that her folks beat her so that they nearly killed her.
+
+"Her mother, Marie St�panovna, cried, 'I shall die of it,' while the old
+man said, 'If we were in the days of the patriarchs, I'd have hacked
+her to pieces on a block. But now everything is rottenness and
+corruption in this world.' Sometimes the neighbours from one end of the
+street to the other heard Akoulka's screams. She was whipped from
+morning to evening, and Philka would cry out in the market-place before
+everybody:
+
+"Akoulka's a jolly girl to get drunk with. I've given it those people
+between the eyes, they won't forget me in a hurry.'
+
+"Well, one day, I met Akoulka, she was going for water with her bucket,
+so I cried out to her: 'A fine morning, pet Akoulka Koudimovna! you're
+the girl who knows how to please fellows. Who's living with you now, and
+where do you get your money for your finery?' That's just what I said to
+her; she opened her eyes as wide as you please. No more flesh on her
+than on a log of wood. She had only just given me a look, but her mother
+thought she was larking with me, and cried from her door-step, 'Impudent
+hussy, what do you mean by talking with that fellow?' And from that
+moment they began to beat her again. Sometimes they hided her for an
+hour together. The mother said, 'I give her the whip because she isn't
+my daughter any more.'"
+
+"She was then as bad as they said?"
+
+"Now you just listen to my story, nunky, will you? Well, we used to get
+drunk all the time with Philka. One day when I was abed, mother comes
+and says:
+
+"'What d'ye mean by lying in bed, you hound, you thief!' She abused me
+for some time, then she said, 'Marry Akoulka. They'll be glad to give
+her to you, and they'll give three hundred roubles with her.'
+
+"'But,' says I, 'all the world knows that she's a bad girl----'
+
+"'Hist, the marriage ceremony cures all that; besides, she'll always be
+in fear of her life from you, so you'll be in clover together. Their
+money would make us comfortable; I've spoken about the marriage already
+to Marie St�panovna, we're of one mind about it.'
+
+"So I say, 'Let's have twenty roubles down on the spot, and I'll have
+her.'
+
+"Well, you needn't believe it unless you please, but I was drunk right
+up to the wedding-day. Then Philka Marosof kept threatening me all the
+time.
+
+"'I'll break every bone in your body, a nice fellow you to be engaged,
+and to Akoulka; if I like I'll sleep every blessed night with her when
+she's your wife.'
+
+"'You're a hound, and a liar,' that's what I said to him. But he
+insulted me so in the street, before everybody, that I ran to Aukoudim's
+and said, 'I won't marry her unless I have fifty roubles down this
+moment.'"
+
+"And they really did give her to you in marriage?"
+
+"Me? Why not, I should like to know? We were respectable people enough.
+Father had been ruined by a fire a little before he died; he had been a
+richer man than Aukoudim Trophimtych.
+
+"'A fellow without a shirt to his back like you ought to be only too
+happy to marry my daughter;' that's what old Aukoudim said.
+
+"'Just you think of your door, and the pitch that went on it,' I said to
+him.
+
+"'Stuff and nonsense,' said he, 'there's no proof whatever that the
+girl's gone wrong.'
+
+"'Please yourself. There's the door, and you can go about your business;
+but give back the money you've had!'
+
+"Then Philka Marosof and I settled it together to send Mitri Bykoff to
+Father Aukoudim to tell him that we'd insult him to his face before
+everybody. Well, I had my skin as full as it could hold right up to the
+wedding-day. I wasn't sober till I got into the church. When they took
+us home after church the girl's uncle, Mitrophone St�panytch, said:
+
+"'This isn't a nice business; but it's over and done now.'
+
+"Old Aukoudim was sitting there crying, the tears rolled down on his
+gray beard. Comrade, I'll tell you what I had done: I had put a whip
+into my pocket before we went to church, and I'd made up my mind to have
+it out of her with that, so that all the world might know how I'd been
+swindled into the marriage, and not think me a bigger fool than I am."
+
+"I see, and you wanted her to know what was in store for her. Ah,
+was----?"
+
+"Quiet, nunky, quiet! Among our people I'll tell you how it is; directly
+after the marriage ceremony they take the couple to a room apart, and
+the others remain drinking till they return. So I'm left alone with
+Akoulka; she was pale, not a bit of colour on her cheeks; frightened out
+of her wits. She had fine hair, supple and bright as flax, and great big
+eyes. She scarcely ever was known to speak; you might have thought she
+was dumb; an odd creature, Akoulka, if ever there was one. Well, you can
+just imagine the scene. My whip was ready on the bed. Well, she was as
+pure a girl as ever was, not a word of it all was true."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"True, I swear; as good a girl as any good family might wish."
+
+"Then, brother, why--why--why had she had to undergo all that torture?
+Why had Philka Marosof slandered her so?"
+
+"Yes, why, indeed?"
+
+"Well, I got down from the bed, and went on my knees before her, and put
+my hands together as if I were praying, and just said to her, 'Little
+mother, pet, Akoulka Koudimovna, forgive me for having been such an
+idiot as to believe all that slander; forgive me. I'm a hound!'
+
+"She was seated on the bed, and gazed at me fixedly. She put her two
+hands on my shoulders and began to laugh; but the tears were running
+all down her cheeks. She sobbed and laughed all at once.
+
+"Then I went out and said to the people in the other room, 'Let Philka
+Marosof look to himself. If I come across him he won't be long for this
+world.'
+
+"The old people were beside themselves with delight. Akoulka's mother
+was ready to throw herself at her daughter's feet, and sobbed.
+
+"Then the old man said, 'If we had known really how it was, my dearest
+child, we wouldn't have given you a husband of that sort.'
+
+"You ought to have seen how we were dressed the first Sunday after our
+marriage--when we left church! I'd got a long coat of fine cloth, a fur
+cap, with plush breeches. She had a pelisse of hareskin, quite new, and
+a silk kerchief on her head. One was as fine as the other. Everybody
+admired us. I must say I looked well, and pet Akoulka did too. One
+oughtn't to boast, but one oughtn't to sing small. I tell you people
+like us are not turned out by the dozen."
+
+"Not a doubt about it."
+
+"Just you listen, I tell you. The day after my marriage I ran off from
+my guests, drunk as I was, and went about the streets crying, 'Where's
+that scoundrel of a Philka Marosof? Just let him come near me, the
+hound, that's all!' I went all over the market-place yelling that out. I
+was as drunk as a man could be, and stand.
+
+"They went after me and caught me close to Vlassof's place. It took
+three men to get me back again to the house.
+
+"Well, nothing else was spoken about all over the village. The girls
+said, when they met in the market-place, 'Well, you've heard the
+news--Akoulka was all right!'
+
+"A little while after I do come across Philka Marosof, who said to me
+before everybody, strangers to the place, too, 'Sell your wife, and
+spend the money on drink. Jackka the soldier only married for that; he
+didn't sleep one night with his wife; but he got enough to keep his skin
+full for three years.'
+
+"I answered him, 'Hound!'
+
+"'But,' says he, 'you're an idiot! You didn't know what you were about
+when you married--you were drunk. How could you tell all about it?'
+
+"So off I went to the house, and cried out to them 'You married me when
+I was drunk.'
+
+"Akoulka's mother tried to fasten herself on me; but I cried, 'Mother,
+you don't know about anything but money. You bring me Akoulka!'
+
+"And didn't I beat her! I tell you I beat her for two hours running,
+till I rolled on the floor myself with fatigue. She couldn't leave her
+bed for three weeks."
+
+"It's a dead sure thing," said Tch�r�vine phlegmatically; "if you don't
+beat them they---- Did you find her with her lover?"
+
+"No; to tell the truth, I never actually caught her," said Chichkoff
+after a pause, speaking with effort; "but I was hurt, a good deal hurt,
+for every one made fun of me. The cause of it all was Philka. 'Your wife
+is just made for everybody to look at,' said he.
+
+"One day he invited us to see him, and then he went at it. 'Do just look
+what a good little wife he has! Isn't she tender, fine, nicely brought
+up, affectionate, full of kindness for all the world? I say, my lad,
+have you forgotten how we daubed their door with pitch?' I was full at
+that moment, drunk as may be; then he seized me by the hair and had me
+down upon the ground before I knew where I was. 'Come along--dance;
+aren't you Akoulka's husband? I'll hold your hair for you, and you shall
+dance; it will be good fun.' 'Dog!' said I to him. 'I'll bring some
+jolly fellows to your house,' said he, 'and I'll whip your Akoulka
+before your very eyes just as long as I please.' Would you believe it?
+For a whole month I daren't go out of the house, I was so afraid he'd
+come to us and drag my wife through the dirt. And how I did beat her for
+it!"
+
+"What was the use of beating her? You can tie a woman's hands, but not
+her tongue. You oughtn't to give them a hiding too often. Beat 'em a
+bit, then scold 'em well, then fondle 'em; that's what a woman is made
+for."
+
+Chichkoff remained quite silent for a few moments.
+
+"I was very much hurt," he went on; "I began it again just as before. I
+beat her from morning till night for nothing; because she didn't get up
+from her seat the way I liked; because she didn't walk to suit me. When
+I wasn't hiding her, time hung heavy on my hands. Sometimes she sat by
+the window crying silently--it hurt my feelings sometimes to see her
+cry, but I beat her all the same. Sometimes her mother abused me for it:
+'You're a scoundrel, a gallows-bird!' 'Don't say a word or I'll kill
+you; you made me marry her when I was drunk, you swindled me.' Old
+Aukoudim wanted at first to have his finger in the pie. Said he to me
+one day: 'Look here, you're not such a tremendous fellow that one can't
+put you down;' but he didn't get far on that track. Marie St�panovna had
+become as sweet as milk. One day she came to me crying her eyes out and
+said: 'My heart is almost broken, Ivan Semionytch; what I'm going to ask
+of you is a little thing for you, but it is a good deal to me; let her
+go, let her leave you, daddy Ivan.' Then she throws herself at my feet.
+'Do give up being so angry! Wicked people slander her; you know quite
+well she was good when you married her.' Then she threw herself at my
+feet again and cried. But I was as hard as nails. 'I won't hear a word
+you have to say; what I choose to do, I do, to you or anybody, for I'm
+crazed with it all. As to Philka Marosof, he's my best and dearest
+friend.'"
+
+"You'd begun to play your pranks together again, you and he?"
+
+"No, by Jove! He was out of the way by this time; he was killing himself
+with drink, nothing less. He had spent all he had on drink, and had
+'listed for a soldier, as substitute for a citizen body in the town. In
+our parts, when a lad makes up his mind to be substitute for another, he
+is master of that house and everybody there till he's called to the
+ranks. He gets the sum agreed on the day he goes off, but up to then he
+lives in the house of the man who buys him, sometimes six whole months,
+and there isn't a horror in the whole world those fellows are not guilty
+of. It's enough to make folks take the holy images out of the house.
+From the moment he consents to be substitute for the son of the family
+then he considers himself their patron and benefactor, and makes them
+dance as he pipes, or else he goes off the bargain.
+
+"So Philka Marosof played the very mischief at the home of this
+townsman. He slept with the daughter, pulled the master of the house by
+the beard after dinner, did anything that came into his head. They had
+to heat the bath for him every day, and, what's more, give him brandy
+fumes with the steam of the bath: and he would have the women lead him
+by the arms to the bath room.[6]
+
+"When he came back to the man's house after a revel elsewhere, he would
+stop right in the middle of the road and cry out:
+
+"'I won't go in by the door; pull down the fence!'
+
+"And they actually _had_ to pull down the fence, though there was the
+door right at it to let him in. That all came to an end though, the day
+they took him to the regiment. That day he was sobered sufficiently. The
+crowd gathered all through the street.
+
+"'They're taking off Philka Marosof!'
+
+"He made a salute on all sides, right and left. Just at that moment
+Akoulka was returning from the kitchen-garden. Directly Philka saw her
+he cried out to her:
+
+"'Stop!' and down he jumped from the cart and threw himself down at her
+feet.
+
+"'My soul, my sweet little strawberry, I've loved you two years long.
+Now they're taking me off to the regiment with the band playing. Forgive
+me, good honest girl of a good honest father, for I'm nothing but a
+hound, and all you've gone through is my fault.'
+
+"Then he flings himself down before her a second time. At first Akoulka
+was exceedingly frightened; but she made him a great bow, which nearly
+bent her double.
+
+"'Forgive me, too, my good lad; but I am really not at all angry with
+you.'
+
+"As she went into the house I was at her heels.
+
+"'What did you say to him, you she-devil, you?'
+
+"Now you may believe it or not as you like, but she looked at me as bold
+as you please, and answered:
+
+"'I love him better than anything or anybody in this world.'
+
+"'I say!'
+
+"That day I didn't utter one single word. Only towards evening I said to
+her: 'Akoulka, I'm going to kill you now.' I didn't close an eye the
+whole night. I went into the little room leading to ours and drank
+kwass. At daybreak I went into the house again. 'Akoulka, get ready and
+come into the fields.' I had arranged to go there before; my wife knew
+it.
+
+"'You are right,' said she. 'It's quite time to begin reaping. I've
+heard that our labourer is ill and doesn't work a bit.'
+
+"I put to the cart without saying a word. As you go out of the town
+there's a forest fifteen versts in length. At the end of it is our
+field. When we had gone about three versts through the wood I stopped
+the horse.
+
+"'Come, get up, Akoulka; your end is come.'
+
+"She looked at me all in a fright, and got up without a word.
+
+"'You've tormented me enough. Say your prayers.'
+
+"I seized her by the hair--she had long, thick tresses--I rolled them
+round my arm. I held her between my knees; took out my knife; threw her
+head back, and cut her throat. She screamed; the blood spurted out. Then
+I threw away my knife. I pressed her with all my might in my arms. I put
+her on the ground and embraced her, yelling with all my might. She
+screamed; I yelled; she struggled and struggled. The blood--her
+blood--splashed my face, my hands. It was stronger than I was--stronger.
+Then I took fright. I left her--left my horse and began to run; ran back
+to the house.
+
+"I went in the back way, and hid myself in the old ramshackle
+bath-house, which we never used now. I lay myself down under the seat,
+and remained hid till the dead of the night."
+
+"And Akoulka?"
+
+"She got up to come back to the house; they found her later, a hundred
+steps from the place."
+
+"So you hadn't finished her?"
+
+"No." Chichkoff stopped a while.
+
+"Yes," said Tch�r�vine, "there's a vein; if you don't cut it at the
+first the man will go on struggling; the blood may flow fast enough, but
+he won't die."
+
+"But she was dead all the same. They found her in the evening, and she
+was cold. They told the police, and hunted me up. They found me in the
+night in the old bath.
+
+"And there you have it. I've been four years here already," added he,
+after a pause.
+
+"Yes, if you don't beat 'em you make no way at all," said Tch�r�vine
+sententiously, taking out his snuff-box once more. He took his pinches
+very slowly, with long pauses. "For all that, my lad, you behaved like a
+fool. Why, I myself--I came upon my wife with a lover. I made her come
+into the shed, and then I doubled up a halter and said to her:
+
+"'To whom did you swear to be faithful?--to whom did you swear it in
+church? Tell me that?'
+
+"And then I gave it her with my halter--beat her and beat her for an
+hour and a half; till at last she was quite spent, and cried out:
+
+"'I'll wash your feet and drink the water afterwards.'
+
+"Her name was Crodotia."
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[5] Daubing the door of a house, where a young girl lives, is done to
+show that she is dishonoured.
+
+[6] A mark of respect paid in Russia formerly, now disused.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE SUMMER SEASON
+
+
+April is come; Holy Week is not far off. We set about our summer tasks.
+The sun becomes hotter and more brilliant every day; the atmosphere has
+the spring in it, and acts upon our nervous system powerfully. The
+convict, in his chains, feels the trembling influence of the lovely days
+like any other creature; they rouse desires in him, inexpressible
+longings for his home, and many other things. I think that he misses his
+liberty, yearns for freedom more when the day is filled with sunlight
+than during the rainy and melancholy days of autumn and winter. You may
+observe this positively among convicts; if they _do_ feel a little joy
+on a beautiful clear day, they have a reaction into greater impatience
+and irritability.
+
+I noticed that in spring there was much more squabbling in our prison;
+there was more noise, the yelling was greater, there were more fights;
+during the working hours we would see a man sometimes fixed in a
+meditative gaze, which seemed lost in the blue distance somewhere, the
+other side of the Irtych, where stretched the boundless plain, with its
+flight of hundreds of versts, the free Kirghiz Steppe. Long-drawn sighs
+came to one's ear, sighs breathed from the depths of the chest; it might
+seem that the air of those wide and free regions, haunted by their
+thought, forced the convicts to draw deep respirations, and was a sort
+of solace to their crushed and fettered souls.
+
+"Ah!" cries at last the poor prisoner all at once, with a long, sighing
+cry; then he seizes his pick furiously, or picks up the bricks, which he
+has to carry from one place to another. But after a brief minute he
+seems to forget the passing impression, and begins laughing, or
+insulting people near, so fitful is his humour; then he attacks the work
+he has to do with unusual fire, labours with might and main, as if
+trying to stifle by fatigue the grief that has him by the throat. You
+see they are fellows of unimpaired vigour, all in the very flower of
+life, with all their physical and other strength about them.
+
+How heavy the irons are during this season! All this is not
+sentimentality, it is the report of rigorous observation. During the hot
+season, under a fiery sun, when all one's being, all one's soul, is
+vividly conscious of, and intimately feels, the unspeakably strong
+resurrection of nature going on everywhere, it is more difficult to
+support the confinement, the perpetual surveillance, the tyranny of a
+will other than one's own.
+
+Besides this, it is in spring with the first song of the lark that
+throughout all Siberia and Russia men set out on the tramp; God's
+creatures, if they can, break their prison and escape into the woods.
+After the stifling ditch where they work, after the boats, the irons,
+the rods and whips, they go vagabondizing where they please, wherever
+they can make it out best; they eat and drink what they can get, 'tis
+all the time pot-luck with them; and by night they sleep undisturbed in
+the woods or in a field, without a care, without the agony of knowing
+themselves in prison, as if they were God's own birds; their
+"good-night" is said to the stars, and the eye that watches them is the
+eye of God. Not altogether a rosy life, by any means; sometimes hunger
+and fatigue are heavy on them "in the service of General Cuckoo." Often
+enough the wanderers have not a morsel of bread to keep their teeth
+going for days and days. They have to hide from everybody, run to earth
+like marmots; sometimes they are driven to robbery, pillage--nay, even
+murder.
+
+"Send a man there and he becomes a child, and just throws himself on all
+he sees"; that is what people say of those transported to Siberia. This
+saying may be applied even more fitly to the tramps. They are almost all
+brigands and thieves, by necessity rather than inclination. Many of them
+are hardened to the life, irreclaimable; there are convicts who go off
+after having served their time, even after they have been put on some
+land as their own. They ought to be happy in their new state, with their
+daily bread assured them. Well, it is not so; an irresistible impulse
+sends them wandering off.
+
+This life in the woods, wretched and fearful as it is, but still free
+and adventurous, has a mysterious seduction for those who have
+experienced it; among these fugitives you may find to your surprise,
+people of good habit of mind, peaceable temper, who had shown every
+promise of becoming settled creatures--good tillers of the land. A
+convict will marry, have children, live for five years in the same
+place, then all of a sudden he will disappear one fine morning,
+abandoning wife and children, to the stupefaction of his family and the
+whole neighbourhood.
+
+One day, I was shown at the convict establishment one of these deserters
+of the family hearthstone. He had committed no crime--at least, he was
+under suspicion of none--but all through his life he had been a
+deserter, a deserter from every post. He had been to the southern
+frontier of the empire, the other side of the Danube, in the Kirghiz
+Steppe, in Eastern Siberia, the Caucasus, in a word, everywhere. Who
+knows? under other conditions this man might have been a Robinson
+Crusoe, with the passion of travel so on him. These details I have from
+other convicts, for he did not like talk, and never opened his mouth
+except when absolutely necessary. He was a peasant, of quite small size,
+of some fifty years, very quiet in demeanour, with a face so still as to
+seem quite without any sort of meaning, impassive almost to idiotcy.
+His delight was to sit for hours in the sun humming a sort of song
+between his teeth so softly, that five steps off he was inaudible. His
+features were, so to speak, petrified; he ate little, principally black
+bread; he never bought white bread or spirits; my belief is, he never
+had had any money, and that he couldn't have counted it if he had. He
+was indifferent to everything. Sometimes he fed the prison dogs with his
+own hand, a thing no one else was known to do; (speaking generally,
+Russians don't like giving dogs things to eat from the hand). People
+said that he had been married, twice even, and that he had children
+somewhere. Why he had been sent as a convict, I have not the least idea.
+We fellows were always fancying that he would escape; but his hour did
+not come, or perhaps had come and gone; anyhow, he went through with his
+punishment without resistance. He seemed an element quite foreign to the
+medium wherein he had his being, an alien, self-concentrated creature.
+Still, there was nothing in this deep surface calm which could be
+trusted; yet, after all, what good would it have been to him to escape
+from the place?
+
+Compared with life at the convict prison, the vagabond age of the
+forests is as the joys of Paradise. The tramp's lot is wretched enough,
+but at least free. So it is that every prisoner all over the soil of
+Russia, becomes restless with the first rays of the smiling spring.
+
+Comparatively few form any settled plan for flight, they fear the
+hindrances in the way and the punishment that may ensue; only one in a
+hundred, not more, make up his mind to it, but how to do it is a thought
+that never ceases to haunt the minds of the ninety-nine others. Filled
+as they are with this longing, anything that looks like giving a chance
+of success is a comfort to them; then they set about comparing the facts
+with cases of successful escape. I speak only of prisoners after and
+under sentence, for prisoners not yet tried and condemned, are much more
+ready to try at an escape. And those who have been sentenced, rarely
+get away unless they attempt it in early days. When they have spent two
+or three years of their time, they put them to a sort of credit-account
+in their minds, and conclude that it is better to finish with the law
+and be put on land as a free man, rather than forfeit that time if they
+fail in escaping, which is always a possibility. Certainly not more than
+one convict in ten succeeds in _changing his lot_. Those who do, are
+nearly always men sentenced to an extremely long punishment, or for
+life. Fifteen, twenty years seem like an eternity to them. Then there is
+the branding, which is a great difficulty in the way of complete escape.
+
+_Changing your lot_ is a technical expression. When a convict is caught
+trying to escape, he is subjected to formal interrogatory, and will say
+he wanted to _change his lot_. This somewhat literary formula exactly
+represents the act in question. No escaped prisoner ever hopes to become
+a perfectly free man, for he knows that it is nearly impossible; what he
+looks for is to be sent to some other convict establishment, or to be
+put on the land, or to be tried again for some offence committed when on
+the tramp; in a word, to be sent anywhere else, it matters not where, so
+that he get out of his present prison which has become insufferable to
+him. All these fugitives, unless they find some unexpected shelter for
+the winter, unless they meet some one interested in concealing them, or
+if--last resort--they cannot procure--and sometimes a murder does
+it--the legal document, which enables them to go about unmolested
+everywhere; all these fugitives present themselves in crowds, during the
+autumn, in the towns and at the prisons; they confess themselves to be
+escaped tramps, pass the winter in jail, and live in the secret hope of
+getting away the following summer.
+
+On me, as well as others, the spring exercised its influence. Well do I
+remember the avidity with which my gaze fed upon the horizon through the
+gaps in the palisades; long, long did I stand with my head glued to the
+pickets, obstinately and insatiably gazing on the grass greening in the
+ditch surrounding the fortress, and at the blue of the distant sky as it
+grew denser and denser. My anguish, my melancholy, were heavier on me;
+as each day wore away the jail became odious, detestable. Hatred for me,
+as a man of the nobility, filled the hearts of the convicts during these
+first years, and this feeling of theirs simply poisoned my life for me.
+Often did I ask to be sent to the hospital, when there was no need of
+it, merely to be out of the punishment part of the place, to feel myself
+out of the range of this unrelenting and implacable hostility.
+
+"You nobles have beaks of iron, and you tore us to pieces with your
+beaks when we were serfs," is what the convicts used to say to us. How I
+envied the people of the lower class who came into the place as
+prisoners! It was different with them, they were in comradeship with all
+there from the very first moment. So was it that in the spring, Freedom
+showing herself as a sort of phantom of the season, the joy diffused
+throughout all Nature, translated themselves within my soul into a more
+than doubled melancholy and nervous irritability.
+
+As the sixth week of Lent came I had to go through my religious
+exercises, for the convicts were divided by the sub-superintendent into
+seven sections--answering to the weeks in Lent--and these had to attend
+to their devotions according to this roster. Each section was composed
+of about thirty men. This week was a great solace to me; we went two or
+three times a day to the church, which was close to the prison. I had
+not been in church for a long time. The Lenten services, familiar to me
+from early childhood in my father's house, the solemn prayers, the
+prostrations--all stirred in me the fibres of the memory of things long,
+long past, and woke my earliest impressions to fresh life. Well do I
+remember how happy I was when at morn we went into God's house, treading
+the ground which had frozen in the night, under the escort of soldiers
+with loaded guns; the escort remained outside the church.
+
+Once within we were massed close to the door so that we could scarcely
+hear anything except the deep voice of the ministering deacon; now and
+again we caught a glimpse of a black chasuble or the bare head of the
+priest. Then it came into my mind how, when a child, I used to look at
+the common people who formed a compact mass at the door, and how they
+would step back in a servile way before some important epauletted
+fellow, or some nobleman with a big paunch, some lady splendidly dressed
+and of high devotion who, in a hurry to get at the front benches, and
+ready for a row if there was any difficulty as to their being honoured
+with the best of places. As it seemed to me then, it was only _there_,
+near the church door, not far from the entry, that prayer was put up
+with genuine fervour and humility, only there that, when people did
+prostrate themselves on the floor it was done with real abasement of
+self and full sense of unworthiness.
+
+And now I myself was in that place of the common people, no, not in
+their place, for we who were there were in chains and degradation.
+Everybody kept himself at a distance from us. We were feared, and alms
+were put in our hands as if we were beggars; I remember that all this
+gave me the strange sensation of a refined and subtle pleasure. "Let it
+even be so!" such was my thought. The convicts prayed with deep fervour;
+every one of them had with him his poor farthing for a little candle, or
+for their collection for the church expenses. "I too, I am a man," each
+one of them perhaps said, as he made his offering; "before God we are
+all equal."
+
+After the six o'clock mass we went up to communion. When the priest,
+_ciforium_ in hand, recited the words, "Have mercy on me as Thou hadst
+on the thief whom Thou didst save," nearly all the convicts prostrated
+themselves, and their chains clanked; I think they took these words
+literally as applied to themselves, and not as being in Scripture.
+
+Holy Week came. The authorities presented each of us with an Easter egg,
+and a small piece of wheaten bread. The townspeople loaded us with
+benevolences. As at Christmas there was the priest's visitation with
+the cross, inspecting visit of the heads of departments, larded cabbage,
+general enlargement of soul, and unlimited lounging, the only difference
+being, that one could now walk about in the court-yard, and warm oneself
+in the sun. Everything seemed filled with more light, larger than in the
+winter, but also more fraught with sadness. The long, endless, summer
+days seemed peculiarly unbearable on Church holidays. Work days were at
+least shortened to our sense by the fatigue of work.
+
+Our summer labours were much more trying than the winter tasks; our
+business was principally that of carrying out engineering works. The
+convicts were set to building, digging, bricklaying, or repairing
+Government buildings, locksmith's work, or carpentering, or painting.
+Others went into the brick-fields, and that was looked upon by us as the
+hardest of all we had laid on us. The brick-fields were situated about
+four versts from the fortress; through all the summer they sent there,
+every morning at six o'clock, a gang of fifty convicts. For this gang
+they used to pick out workmen who had learned no trade in particular.
+The convicts took with them their bread for the day, the distance was
+too great for them to come back, eight useless versts, for dinner with
+the others, so they had a meal when they returned in the evening.
+
+Work was assigned to each for the day, but there was so much of it that
+it was all a man could do, nay, more, to get to the end of it. First, we
+had to dig and carry the clay, moisten it, and mould it in the ditch,
+and then make a goodly quantity of bricks, two hundred or so, sometimes
+fifty more than that. I was only twice sent to the brick-field. The
+convicts sent to this labour came back in the evening dead tired, and
+every one of them complained of the others, that he had had the worst of
+the work put on him. I believe that reproaches of this kind were a
+pleasure, a consolation to them. Some of them, however, liked the
+brick-field work, because they got away from the town, and to the banks
+of the Irtych into open, agreeable country, with the sky overhead; the
+surroundings were more agreeable than those frightful Government
+buildings. They were allowed to smoke there in all freedom, and to
+remain lying down for half-an-hour or so, which was a great pleasure.
+
+As for me, I was sent to one of the shops, or else to pound up
+alabaster, or to carry bricks, which last job I had for two months
+together. I had to take my tale of bricks from the banks of the Irtych
+to a distance of about 140 yards, and to pass the ditch of the fortress
+before getting to the barrack which they were putting up. This work
+suited me well enough, although the cord with which I carried my bricks
+sawed my shoulders; what particularly pleased me was that my strength
+increased sensibly. At the outset I could not carry more than eight
+bricks at once; each of them weighed about twelve pounds. I got to be
+able to carry twelve, or even fifteen, which delighted me much. You
+wanted physical as well as moral strength to be able to bear all the
+discomforts of that accursed life.
+
+There was this, too: I wanted, when I left the place, really to live,
+not to be half-dead. I took pleasure in carrying my bricks, then; it was
+not merely that this labour strengthened my body, but because it took me
+always to the banks of the Irtych. I speak often of this spot, it was
+the only one where we saw God's _own_ world, a pure and bright horizon,
+the free desert steppes, whose bareness always produced a strange
+impression on me. All the other workyards were in the fortress itself,
+or in its neighbourhood; and the fortress, from the earliest days I was
+there, was the object of my hatred, and, above all, its appurtenant
+buildings. The house of the Major Commandant seemed to me a repulsive,
+accursed place. I never could pass it without casting upon it a look of
+detestation; while at the river-bank I could forget my miserable self as
+I sent my gaze over the immense desert space, just as a prisoner may
+when he looks at the world of freedom through the barred casement of his
+dungeon. Everything in that place was dear and gracious to my eyes; the
+sun shining in the infinite blue of heaven, the distant song of the
+Kirghiz that came from the opposite bank.
+
+Sometimes I would fix my sight for a long while upon the poor smoky
+cabin of some _ba�gouch_; I would study the bluish smoke as it curled in
+the air, the Kirghiz woman busy with her two sheep.... The things I saw
+were wild, savage, poverty-stricken; but they were free. I would follow
+the flight of a bird threading its way in the pure transparent air; now
+it skims the water, now disappears in the azure sky, now suddenly comes
+to view again, a mere point in space. Even the poor wee floweret fading
+in a cleft of the bank, which would show itself when spring began, fixed
+my attention and would draw my tears.... The melancholy of this first
+year of convict life and hard labour was unendurable, too much for my
+strength. The anguish of it was so great, I could not notice my
+immediate surroundings at all; I merely shut my eyes and would not see.
+Among the creatures with spoiled lives with whom I had to live, I did
+not yet note those who were capable of thinking and feeling, in spite of
+their external repulsiveness. There came not to my ears (or if there did
+I knew it not) one word of kindliness in the midst of the rain of
+poisonous talk that came down all the time. Still one such utterance
+there was, simple, straightforward, of pure motive, and it came from the
+heart of a man who had suffered and endured more than myself. But it is
+useless to enlarge on this.
+
+The great fatigue I underwent was a source of satisfaction, it gave me
+hope of sound sleep. During the summer sleep was torment, more
+intolerable than the closeness and infection winter brought with it.
+Some of the nights were certainly very beautiful. The sun, which had not
+ceased to inundate the court-yard all the day, hid itself at last. The
+air freshened, and the night, the night of the steppe, became
+comparatively cold. The convicts, until shut up in their barracks,
+walked about in groups, especially on the kitchen side; for that was the
+place where questions of general interest were by preference discussed,
+and comments were made upon the rumours from without, often absurd
+indeed, but always keenly exciting to these men cut off from the world.
+For example, we suddenly learn that our Major had been roughly dismissed
+from his post. Convicts are as credulous as children; they know the news
+to be false, or most unlikely, and that the fellow who brings it is a
+past master in the art of lying, Kvassoff; for all that they clutch at
+the nonsensical story, go into high delight over it, are much consoled,
+and at last quite ashamed to have been duped by a Kvassoff.
+
+"I should like to know who'll show _him_ the door?" cries one convict;
+"don't you fear, he's a fellow who knows how to stick on."
+
+"But," says another, "he has his superiors over him." This one is a warm
+controversialist, and has seen the world.
+
+"Wolves don't feed on one another," says a third gloomily, half to
+himself. _This_ one is an old fellow, growing gray, and he always takes
+his sour cabbage soup into a corner, and eats it there.
+
+"Do you think his superiors will take _your_ advice whether they shall
+show him the door or not?" adds a fourth, who doesn't seem to care about
+it at all, giving a stroke to his balala�ka.
+
+"Well, why not?" replies the second angrily; "if you _are_ asked, answer
+what's in your mind. But no, with us fellows it's all mere cry, and when
+you ought to go at things with a will, everybody sneaks out."
+
+"That's _so_!" says the one playing with the balala�ka. "Hard labour and
+prison are just the things to cause _that_."
+
+"It was like that the other day," says the second one, without hearing
+the remark made to him. "There was a little wheat left, sweepings, a
+mere nothing; there was some idea of turning the refuse into money;
+well, look here, they took it to him, and he confiscated it. All
+economy, you see. Was that _so_, and was it right--yes or no?"
+
+"But whom can you complain to?"
+
+"To whom? Why, the 'spector (_Inspector_) who's coming."
+
+"What 'spector?"
+
+"It's true, pals, a 'spector is coming soon," said a youthful convict,
+who had got some sort of knowledge, had read the "Duchesse de la
+Valli�re," or some book of that sort, and who had been Quartermaster in
+a regiment; a bit of a wag, whom, as a man of information, the convicts
+held in a sort of respect. Without paying the least attention to the
+exciting debate, he goes straight to the cook, and asks him for some
+liver. Our cooks often deal in victuals of that kind; they used to buy a
+whole liver, cut it in pieces, and sell it to the other convicts.
+
+"Two kopecks' worth, or four?" asks cook.
+
+"A four-kopeck cut; I'll eat, the others shall look on and long," says
+this convict. "Yes, pals, a general, a real general, is coming from
+Petersburg to 'spect all Siberia; it's so, heard it at the Governor's
+place."
+
+This news produces an extraordinary effect. For a quarter of an hour
+they ask each other who this General can be? what's his title? whether
+his grade is higher than that of the Generals of our town? The convicts
+delight in discussing ranks and degrees, in finding out who's at the
+head of things, who can make the other officials crook their backs, and
+to whom he crooks his own; so they get up an argument and quarrel about
+their Generals, and rude words fly about, all in honour of these high
+officers--fights, too, sometimes. What interest can _they_ possibly have
+in it? When one hears convicts speaking of Generals and high officials
+one gets a measure of their intelligence as they were while still in the
+world before the prison days. It cannot be concealed that among our
+people, even in much higher circles, talk about generals and high
+officials is looked upon as the most serious and refined conversation.
+
+"Well, you see, they _have_ sent our Major to the right about, don't
+ye?" observes Kvassoff, a little, rubicund, choleric, small-brained
+fellow, the same who had announced the supersession of the Major.
+
+"We'll just grease their palm for them," this, in staccato tones from
+the morose old fellow in the corner who had finished his sour cabbage
+soup.
+
+"I should think he would grease their palms, by Jove," says another; "he
+has stolen money enough, the brigand. And, only think, he was only a
+regimental Major before he came here. He's feathered his nest. Why, a
+little while ago he was engaged to the head priest's daughter."
+
+"But he didn't get married; they turned him off, and that shows he's
+poor. A pretty sort of fellow to get engaged! He's got nothing but the
+coat on his back; last year, Easter time, he lost all he had at cards.
+Fedka told me so."
+
+"Well, well, pals, I've been married myself, but it's a bad thing for a
+poor devil; taking a wife is soon done, but the fun of it is more like
+an inch than a mile," observes Skouratoff, who had just joined in the
+general talk.
+
+"Do you fancy we're going to amuse ourselves by discussing _you_?" says
+the ex-quartermaster in a superior manner. "Kvassoff, I tell you you're
+a big idiot! If you fancy that the Major can grease the palm of an
+Inspector-General you've got things finely muddled; d'ye fancy they send
+a man from Petersburg just to inspect your Major? You're a precious
+dolt, my lad; take it from me that it is so."
+
+"And you fancy because he's a General he doesn't take what's offered?"
+said some one in the crowd in a sceptical tone.
+
+"I should think he did indeed, and plenty of it whenever he can."
+
+"A dead sure thing that; gets bigger, and more, and worse, the higher
+the rank."
+
+"A General _always_ has his palm greased," says Kvassoff, sententiously.
+
+"Did _you_ ever give them money, as you're so sure of it?" asks
+Baklouchin, suddenly striking in, in a tone of contempt; "come, now, did
+you ever see a General in all your life?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Liar!"
+
+"Liar, yourself!"
+
+"Well, boys, as he _has_ seen a General, let him say _which_. Come,
+quick about it; I know 'em all, every man jack."
+
+"I've seen General Zibert," says Kvassoff in tones far from sure.
+
+"Zibert! There's no General of that name. That's the General, perhaps,
+who was looking at your back when they gave you the cat. This Zibert
+was, perhaps, a Lieutenant-Colonel; but you were in such a fright just
+then, you took him for a General."
+
+"No! Just hear me," cries Skouratoff, "for I've got a wife. There was
+really a General of that name, a German, but a Russian subject. He
+confessed to the Pope, every year, all about his peccadilloes with gay
+women, and drank water like a duck, at least forty glasses of Moskva
+water one after the other; that was the way he got cured of some
+disease. I had it from his valet."
+
+"I say! And the carp didn't swim in his belly?" this from the convict
+with the balala�ka.
+
+"Be quiet, fellows, can't you--one's talking seriously, and there they
+are beginning their nonsense again. Who's the 'spector that's coming?"
+This was put by a convict who always seemed full of business, Martinof,
+an old man who had been in the Hussars.
+
+"Set of lying fellows!" said one of the doubters. "Lord knows where they
+get it all from; it's all empty talk."
+
+"It's nothing of the sort," observes Koulikoff, majestically silent
+hitherto, in dogmatic tones. "The man coming is big and fat, about fifty
+years, with regular features, and proud, contemptuous manners, on which
+he prides himself."
+
+Koulikoff is a Tsigan, a sort of veterinary surgeon, makes money by
+treating horses in town, and sells wine in our prison. He's no fool,
+plenty of brain, memory well stocked, lets his words fall as carefully
+as if every one of 'em was worth a rouble.
+
+"It's true," he went on very calmly, "I heard of it only last week; it's
+a General with bigger epaulettes than most, and he's going to inspect
+all Siberia. They grease his palm well for him, that's sure enough; but
+not our Major with his eight eyes in his head. He won't dare to creep in
+about _him_, for you see, pals, there are Generals and Generals, as
+there are fagots and fagots. It's just this, and you may take it from
+me, our Major will remain where he is. _We're_ fellows with no tongue,
+we've no right to speak; and as to our chiefs here, they're not going to
+say a word against him. The 'spector will come into our jail, give a
+look round, and go off at once; he'll say it was all right."
+
+"Yes, but the Major's in a fright; he's been drunk since morning."
+
+"And this evening he had two van-loads of things taken away; Fedka says
+so."
+
+"You may scrub a nigger, he'll never be white. Is it the first time
+you've seen him drunk, hey?"
+
+"No! It will be a devil of a shame if the General does nothing to him,"
+said the convicts, who began to get highly excited.
+
+The news of the arrival of the Inspector went through the prison. The
+prisoners went everywhere about the court-yard retailing the important
+fact. Some held their tongues and kept cool, trying to look important;
+some were really indifferent to it. Some of the convicts sat down on the
+steps of the doors to play the balala�ka, while some went on with their
+gossip. Some groups were singing in a drawling voice, but the whole
+court-yard was upset and excited generally.
+
+About nine o'clock they counted us, and quartered us in our barracks,
+which were closed for the night. A short summer night it was, so we were
+roused up at five o'clock in the morning, yet nobody had managed to
+sleep before eleven, for up to that hour there was conversation and all
+sort of movement was going on; sometimes, too, games of cards were made
+up, as in winter. The heat was intolerable, stifling. True, the open
+window let in some of the cool night air, but the convicts kept tossing
+themselves on their wooden beds as if delirious.
+
+Fleas countless. There were enough of them in winter; but when spring
+came they multiplied in proportions so formidable that I couldn't
+believe it before I had to endure them. And as the summer went on the
+worse it was with them. I found out that one _could_ get used to fleas;
+but for all that, the torment of them is so great that it throws you
+into a fever; even when you get slumber you quite feel it is not sleep,
+you are half delirious, and know it.
+
+At last, towards morning, when the enemy is tired and you are
+deliciously asleep in the freshness of the early hours, suddenly sounds
+the pitiless morning drum-call. How you curse as you hear them, those
+sharp, quick strokes; you cower in your semi-pelisse, and then--you
+can't help it--comes the thought that it will be so to-morrow, the day
+after, for many, many years, till you are set at liberty. When _will_ it
+come, this freedom, freedom? Where _is_ it in this world? _Where_ is it
+hiding? You _have_ to get up, they are walking about you in all
+directions. The usual noisy row begins. The convicts dress, and hurry
+to their work. It's true you have an hour you can spend in sleep at
+noon.
+
+What we had been told about the Inspector was really true. The reports
+were more confirmed every day; and at last it became certain that a
+General, high in office, was coming from Petersburg to inspect all
+Siberia, that he was already at Tobolsk. Every day we learned something
+fresh about it. These rumours came from the town. They told us that
+there was alarm in all quarters, and that everybody was making
+preparations to show himself in as favourable a light as might be. The
+authorities were organising receptions, balls, f�tes of every kind.
+Gangs of convicts were sent to level the ways in the fortress, smooth
+away hummocks in the ground, paint the palings and other wood-work, to
+plaster, do up, and generally repair everything that was conspicuous.
+
+Our prisoners perfectly well understood the object of this labour, and
+their discussions became all the more animated and excited. Their
+imaginations passed all bounds. They even set about formulating some
+demands to be set before the General on his arrival, but that did not
+prevent their going on with their quarrels and violent speeches. Our
+Major was on hot coals. He came continually to visit the jail, shouted,
+and threw himself angrily on the fellows more than usual, sent them to
+the guard-room and punishment for a mere nothing, and watched very
+severely over the cleanliness and good order of the barracks. Just then,
+there occurred a little event which did not at all painfully affect this
+officer as one might have expected, but, on the contrary, caused him a
+lively satisfaction. One of the convicts struck another with an awl
+right in the chest, in a place quite near the heart.
+
+The delinquent's name was Lomof; the name the victim was known by in the
+jail was Gavrilka. He was one of those seasoned tramps I've spoken about
+earlier. Whether he had any other name, I don't know; I never heard any
+attributed to him, except that one, Gavrilka.
+
+Lomof had been a peasant comfortably off in the Government of T----,
+and district of K----. There were five of them living together, two
+brothers Lomof, and three sons. They were quite rich peasants; the talk
+throughout the district was that they had more than 300,000 roubles in
+paper money. They worked at currying and tanning; but their chief
+business was usury, harbouring tramps, and receiving stolen goods; all
+sorts of petty irregular doings. Half the peasants of their district
+owed them money, and so were in their clutches. They passed for being
+intelligent and full of cunning, and gave themselves very great airs. A
+great personage of their province had stopped on his way once at the
+father Lomof's house, and this official had taken a fancy to him,
+because of his hardy and unscrupulous talk. Then they took it in their
+heads they might do exactly as they pleased, and mixed themselves up
+more and more with illegal doings. Everybody had a grievance against
+them, and would like to have seen them a hundred feet under the ground;
+but they got bolder and bolder every day. They were not afraid of the
+local police or the district tribunals.
+
+At last fortune betrayed them; their ruin came, not out of their secret
+crimes, but from an accusation which was all calumny and falsehood. Ten
+versts from their hamlet they had a farm where six Kirghiz labourers,
+long since brought down by them to be no better than slaves, used to
+pass the autumn. One fine day these Kirghiz were found murdered. An
+inquiry was set on foot that lasted long, thanks to which no end of
+atrocious things were brought to light. The Lomofs were accused of
+having assassinated their workmen. They had themselves told their story
+to the convicts, all the jail knew it perfectly; they were suspected of
+owing a great deal of money to the Kirghiz, and, as they were full of
+greed and avarice in spite of their large fortunes, it was believed they
+had paid the debt by taking the lives of the poor fellows. While the
+inquiry and trial went on, their property melted away utterly. The
+father died, the sons were transported; one of these, with the uncle,
+was condemned to fifteen years of hard labour.
+
+Now, they were perfectly innocent of the crime imputed to them. One fine
+day Gavrilka, a thorough-paced rascal, known as a tramp, but of very gay
+and lively turn, avowed himself the author of the crime. As a matter of
+fact I don't know whether he actually made this avowal himself, but what
+is sure is that the convicts held him to be the murderer of the Kirghiz.
+
+This Gavrilka, while still tramping about, had been mixed up in some way
+with the Lomofs (his confinement in one jail was for quite a short
+sentence, for desertion from the army and tramping). He had cut the
+throats of the Kirghiz--three other marauding fellows had been in it
+with him--in the hope of setting themselves up a bit with the plunder of
+the farm.
+
+The Lomofs were no favourites with us, I really don't know why. One of
+them, the nephew, was a sturdy fellow, intelligent and sociable; but his
+uncle, the one that struck Gavrilka with the awl, was a choleric, stupid
+rustic, always quarrelling with the convicts, who knocked him about like
+plaster. All the jail liked Gavrilka for his gaiety and good-humour. The
+Lomofs got to know, like the rest, that he was the man who committed the
+crime they were condemned for; but they never got into any quarrel with
+him. Gavrilka paid no attention whatever to them.
+
+The row with Uncle Lomof began about some disgusting girl they had
+quarrelled over. Gavrilka had boasted of the favour she had shown him.
+The peasant, mad with jealousy, ended by driving an awl into his chest.
+
+Although the Lomofs had been ruined by their trial and sentence, they
+passed in the jail for being very rich. They had money, a samovar, and
+drank tea. Our Major knew all about it, and hated the two Lomofs,
+sparing them no vexation. The victims of his hate explained it by a
+desire to have them grease his palm well, but they could not, or would
+not, bring themselves to do it.
+
+If Uncle Lomof had struck his awl one hair's breadth further in
+Gavrilka's breast he would certainly have killed him; as it was, the
+wound did not much signify. The affair was reported to the Major. I
+think I see him now as he came up out of breath, but with visible
+satisfaction. He addressed Gavrilka in an affable, fatherly way:
+
+"Tell me, lad, can you walk to the hospital or must they carry you
+there? No, I think it will be better to have a horse; let them put a
+horse to this moment!" he cried out to the sub-officer with a gasp.
+
+"But I don't feel it at all, your worship; he's only given me a bit of a
+prick, your worship."
+
+"You don't know, my dear fellow, you don't know; you'll see. A nasty
+place he's struck you in. All depends upon the place. He has given it
+you just below the heart, the scoundrel. Wait, wait!" he howled to
+Lomof. "I've got you tight; take him to the guard-house."
+
+He kept his promise. Lomof was tried, and, though the wound was slight,
+there was plainly malice aforethought; his sentence of hard labour was
+extended for several years, and they gave him a thousand strokes with
+the rod. The Major was delighted.
+
+The Inspector arrived at last.
+
+The day after he reached the town, he came to the convict establishment
+to make his inspection. It was a regular f�te-day. For some days
+everything had been brilliantly clean, washed with great precision. The
+convicts were all just shaven, their linen quite white and without a
+stain. (According to the regulations, they wore in summer waistcoats and
+pantaloons of canvas. Every one had a round black piece sown in at the
+back, eight centimetres in diameter.) For a whole hour the prisoners had
+been drilled as to what they should answer, the very words to be used,
+particularly if the high functionary should take any notice of them.
+
+There had been even regular rehearsals. The Major seemed to have lost
+his head. An hour before the coming in of the Inspector, all the
+convicts were at their posts, as stiff as statues, with their little
+fingers on the seams of their pantaloons. At last, just about one
+o'clock the Inspector made his entry. He was a General, with a most
+self-sufficing bearing, so much so, that the mere sight of it must have
+sent a tremor into the hearts of all the officials of West Siberia.
+
+He came in with a stern and majestic air, followed by a crowd of
+Generals and Colonels doing service in our town. There was a civilian,
+too, of high stature and regular features, in frock-coat and shoes. This
+personage bore himself very independently and airily, and the General
+addressed him every moment with exquisite politeness. This civilian also
+had come from Petersburg. All the convicts were terribly curious as to
+who he could be, such an important General showing him such deference?
+We learned who he was and what his office later, but he was a good deal
+talked about before we knew.
+
+Our Major, all spick and span, with orange-coloured collar, made no too
+favourable impression upon the General; the blood-shot eyes and fiery
+rubicund complexion plainly told their own story. Out of respect for his
+superior he had taken off his spectacles, and stood some way off, as
+straight as a dart, in feverish expectation that something would be
+asked of him, that he might run and carry out His Excellency's wishes;
+but no particular need of his services seemed to be felt.
+
+The General went all through the barracks without saying a word, threw a
+glance into the kitchen, where he tasted the sour cabbage soup. They
+pointed me out to him, telling him that I was an ex-nobleman, who had
+done this, that, and the other.
+
+"Ah!" answered the General. "And how does he conduct himself?"
+
+"Satisfactorily for the time being, your Excellency, satisfactorily."
+
+The General nodded, and left the jail in a couple of minutes more. The
+convicts were dazzled and disappointed, and did not know what to be at.
+As to laying complaints against the Major, that was quite over, could
+not be thought of. He had, no doubt, been quite well assured as to this
+beforehand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT
+
+
+Gniedko, a bay horse, was bought a little while afterwards, and the
+event furnished a much more agreeable and interesting diversion to the
+convicts than the visit of the high personage I have been talking about.
+We required a horse at the jail for carrying water, refuse matter, etc.
+He was given to a convict to take care of and use; this man drove him,
+under escort, of course. Our horse had plenty to do morning and night;
+it was a worthy sort of beast, but a good deal worn, and had been in
+service for a long time already.
+
+One fine morning, the eve of St. Peter's Day, Gniedko, our bay, who was
+dragging a barrel of water, fell all of a heap, and gave up the ghost in
+a few minutes. He was much regretted, so all the convicts gathered round
+him to discuss his death. Those who had served in the cavalry, the
+Tsigans, the veterinary fellows, and others, showed a profound knowledge
+of horses in general and fiercely argued the question; but all that did
+not bring our bay horse to life again; there he was stretched out and
+dead, with his belly all swollen. Every one thought it incumbent on him
+to feel about the poor thing with his hands; finally the Major was
+informed of what Providence had done in the horse's case, and it was
+decided that another should be bought at once.
+
+St. Peter's Day, quite early after mass, all the convicts being
+together, horses that were on sale were brought in. It was left to the
+prisoners to choose an animal, for there were some thorough experts
+among them, and it would have been difficult to take in 250 men, with
+whom horse-dealing had been a speciality. Tsigans, Lesghians,
+professional horse-dealers, townsmen, came in to deal. The convicts were
+exceedingly eager about the matter as each fresh horse was brought up,
+and were as amused as children about it all. It seemed to tickle their
+fancy very much, that they had to buy a horse like free men, just as if
+it was for themselves and the money was to come out of their own
+pockets. Three horses were brought and taken away before purchase; the
+fourth was settled on. The horse-dealers seemed astonished and a little
+awed at the soldiers of the escort who watched the business. Two hundred
+men, clean shaven, branded as they were, with chains on their feet, were
+well calculated to inspire respect, all the more as they were in their
+own place, at home so to speak, in their own convict's den, where nobody
+was ever allowed to come.
+
+Our fellows seemed to be up to no end of tricks for finding out the real
+value of a horse brought up; they carefully examined it, handled it with
+the most serious demeanour, went on as if the welfare of the
+establishment was bound up with the purchase of this beast. The
+Circassians took the liberty of jumping upon his back: their eyes shone
+wildly, they chatted rapidly in their incomprehensible dialect, showed
+their white teeth, dilating the nostrils of their hooked copper-coloured
+noses. There were some Russians who paid the most lively attention to
+their discussion, and seemed ready to jump down their throats; they did
+not understand a word, but it was plain they did what they could to
+gather from the expression of the eyes of the fellows whether the horse
+was good or not. But what could it matter to a convict, especially to
+some of them, who were creatures altogether down and done for, who never
+ventured to utter a single word to the others? What _could_ it matter to
+such as these, whether one horse or another was bought? Yet it seemed as
+if it did. The Circassians appeared to be most relied on for their
+opinion, and besides these a foremost place in the discussion was given
+to the Tsigans, and those who had formerly been horse-dealers.
+
+There was a regular sort of duel between two convicts--the Tsigan
+Koulikoff, who had been a horse-dealer and stealer, and another who had
+been a professional veterinary, a tricky Siberian peasant, who had been
+at the establishment and at hard labour for some time, and who had
+succeeded in getting all Koulikoff's practice in the town. I ought to
+mention that the veterinary practitioners at the prison, though without
+diploma, were very much sought after, and that not only the townspeople
+and tradespeople, but high officials in the city, took their advice when
+their horses fell ill, rather than that of several regularly
+diplomatised veterinaries who were at the place.
+
+Till Jolkin came, the Siberian peasant Koulikoff had had plenty of
+clients from whom he had had fees in good hard cash. He was looked on as
+quite at the head of his business. He was a Tsigan all over in his
+doings, liar and cheat, and not at all the master of his art he boasted
+of being. The income he made had raised him to be a sort of aristocrat
+among our convicts; he was listened to and obeyed, but he spoke little,
+and expressed an opinion only in great emergencies. He blew his own
+trumpet loudly, but he really was a fellow of great energy; he was of
+ripe age, and of quite marked intelligence. When he spoke to us of the
+nobility, he did so with exquisite politeness and perfect dignity. I am
+sure that if he had been suitably dressed, and introduced into a club at
+the capital with the title of Count, he would have lived up to it;
+played whist, talked to admiration like a man used to command, and one
+who knew when to hold his tongue. I am sure that the whole evening would
+have passed without any one guessing that the "Count" was nothing but a
+vagabond. He had very probably had a very large and varied experience in
+life; as to his past, it was quite unknown to us. They kept him among
+the convicts who formed a special section reserved from the others.
+
+But no sooner had Jolkin come--he was a simple peasant, one of the "old
+believers," but just as tricky as it was possible for a moujik to
+be--the veterinary glory of Koulikoff paled sensibly. In less than two
+months the Siberian had got from him all his town practice, for he cured
+in a very short time horses Koulikoff had declared incurable, and which
+had been given up by the regular veterinaries. This peasant had been
+condemned and sent to hard labour for coining. It is an odd thing he
+should ever have been tempted to go into that line of business. He told
+us all about it himself, and joked about their wanting three coins of
+genuine gold to make one false.
+
+Koulikoff was not a little put out at this peasant's success, while his
+own glory so rapidly declined. There was he who had had a mistress in
+the suburbs, who used to wear a plush jacket and top-boots, and here he
+was now obliged to turn tavern-keeper; so everybody looked out for a
+regular row when the new horse was bought. The thing was very
+interesting, each of them had his partisans; the more eager among them
+got to angry words about it on the spot. The cunning face of Jolkin was
+all wrinkled into a sarcastic smile; but it turned out quite differently
+from what was expected. Koulikoff had not the least desire for argument
+or dispute, he managed cunningly without that. At first he gave way on
+every point, and listened deferentially to his rival's criticisms, then
+he caught him up sharply on some remark or other, and pointed out to him
+modestly but firmly that he was all wrong. In a word, Jolkin was utterly
+discomfited in a surprisingly clever way, so Koulikoff's side was quite
+well pleased.
+
+"I say, boys, it's no use talking; you can't trip _him_ up. He knows
+what he is about," said some.
+
+"Jolkin knows more about the matter than he does," said others; not
+offensively, however. Both sides were ready to make concessions.
+
+"Then, he's got a lighter hand, besides having more in his head. I tell
+you that when it comes to stock, horses, or anything else, Koulikoff
+needn't duck under to anybody."
+
+"Nor need Jolkin, I tell you."
+
+"There's nobody like Koulikoff."
+
+The new horse was selected and bought. It was a capital gelding--young,
+vigorous, and handsome; an irreproachable beast altogether. The
+bargaining began. The owner asked thirty roubles; the convicts wouldn't
+give more than twenty-five. The higgling went on long and hotly. At
+length the convicts began laughing.
+
+"Does the money come out of your own purse?" said some. "What's the good
+of all this?"
+
+"Do you want to save for the Government cashbox?" cried others.
+
+"But it's money that belongs to us all, pals," said one.
+
+"Us all! It's plain enough that you needn't trouble to grow idiots,
+they'll come up of themselves without it."
+
+At last the business was settled at twenty-eight roubles. The Major was
+informed, the purchase sanctioned. Bread and salt were brought at once,
+and the new boarder led in triumph into the jail. There was not one of
+the convicts, I think, that did not pat his neck or caress his head.
+
+The day we got him he was at once put to fetching water. All the
+convicts gazed on him curiously as he pulled at his barrel.
+
+Our waterman, the convict Roman, kept his eyes on the beast with a
+stupid sort of satisfaction. He was formerly a peasant, about fifty
+years of age, serious and silent, like all the Russian coachmen, whose
+behaviour would really seem to acquire some extra gravity by reason of
+their being always with horses.
+
+Roman was a quiet creature, affable all round, said little, took snuff
+from a box. He had taken care of the horses at the jail for some time
+before that. The one just bought was the third given into his charge
+since he came to the place.
+
+The coachman's office fell, as a matter of course, to Roman; nobody
+would have dreamed of contesting his right to it. When the bay horse
+dropped and died, nobody dreamed of accusing Roman of imprudence, not
+even the Major. It was the will of God, that was all; as to Roman, he
+knew his business.
+
+That bay horse had become the pet of the jail at once. The convicts were
+not particularly tender fellows; but they could not help coming to pet
+him often.
+
+Sometimes when Roman, returning from the river, shut the great gate
+which the sub-officer had opened, Gniedko would stand quite still
+waiting for his driver, and turning to him as for orders.
+
+"Get along, you know the way," Roman would cry to him. Then Gniedko
+would go off peaceably to the kitchen and stop there, and the cooks and
+other servants of the place would fill their buckets with water, which
+Gniedko seemed to know all about.
+
+"Gniedko, you're a trump! He's brought his water-barrel himself. He's a
+delight to see!" they would cry to him.
+
+"That's true; he's only a beast, but he knows all that's said to him."
+
+"No end of a horse is our Gniedko!"
+
+Then the horse shook his head and snorted, just as if he really
+understood all about his being praised; then some one would bring him
+bread and salt; and when he had finished with them he would shake his
+head again, as if to say, "I know you; I know you. I'm a good horse,
+and you're a good fellow."
+
+I was quite fond of regaling Gniedko with bread. It was quite a pleasure
+to me to look at his nice mouth, and to feel his warm, moist lips
+licking up the crumbs from the palm of my hand.
+
+Our convicts were fond of live things, and if they had been allowed
+would have filled the barracks with birds and domestic animals. What
+could possibly have been better than attending to such creatures for
+raising and softening the wild temper of the prisoners? But it was not
+permitted; it was not in the regulations; and, truth to say, there was
+no room there for many creatures.
+
+However, in my time some animals had established themselves in the jail.
+Besides Gniedko, we had some dogs, geese, a he-goat--Vaska--and an
+eagle, which remained only a short time.
+
+I think I have said before that _our_ dog was called Bull, and that he
+and I had struck up a friendship; but as the lower orders regard dogs as
+impure animals undeserving of attention, nobody minded him. He lived in
+the jail itself; slept in the court-yard; ate the leavings of the
+kitchen, and had no hold whatever on the sympathy of the convicts; all
+of whom he knew, however, and regarded as masters and owners. When the
+men assigned to work came back to the jail, at the cry of "Corporal," he
+used to run to the great gate and gaily welcome the gang, wagging his
+tail and looking into every man's eyes, as though he expected a caress.
+But for several years his little ways were as useless as they were
+engaging. Nobody but myself did caress him; so I was the one he
+preferred to all others. Somehow--I don't know in what way--we got
+another dog. Snow he was called. As to the third, Koultiapka, I brought
+him myself to the place when he was but a pup.
+
+Our Snow was a strange creature. A telega had gone over him and driven
+in his spine, so that it made a curve inside him. When you saw him
+running at a distance, he looked like twin-dogs born with a ligament. He
+was very mangy, too, with bleary eyes, and his tail was hairless, and
+always hanging between his legs.
+
+Victim of ill-fate as he was, he seemed to have made up his mind to be
+always as impassive as possible; so he never barked at anybody, for he
+seemed to be afraid of getting into some fresh trouble. He was nearly
+always lurking at the back of the buildings; and if anybody came near he
+rolled on his back at once, as though he meant to say, "Do what you like
+with me; I've not the least idea of resisting you." And every convict,
+when the dog upset himself like that, would give him a passing
+obligatory kick, with "Ouh! the dirty brute!" But Snow dared not so much
+as give a groan; and if he was too much hurt, would only utter a little,
+dull, strangled yelp. He threw himself down just the same way before
+Bull or any other dog when he came to try his luck at the kitchen; and
+he would stretch himself out flat if a mastiff or any other big dog came
+barking at him. Dogs like submission and humility in other dogs; so the
+angry brute quieted down at once, and stopped short reflectively before
+the poor, humble beast, and then sniffed him curiously all over.
+
+I wonder what poor Snow, trembling with fright, used to think at such
+moments. "Is this brigand of a fellow going to bite me?"--no doubt
+something like that. When he had sniffed enough at him, the big brute
+left him at once, having probably discovered nothing in particular. Snow
+used then to jump to his feet, and join a lot of four-footed fellows
+like him who were running down some yutchka or other.
+
+Snow knew quite well that no yutchka would ever condescend to the like
+of him, that she was too proud for that, but it was some consolation to
+him in his troubles to limp after her. As to decent behaviour, he had
+but a very vague notion of any such thing. Being totally without any
+hope in his future, his highest aim was to get a bellyful of victuals,
+and he was cynical enough in showing that it was so.
+
+Once I tried to caress him. This was such an unexpected and new thing to
+him that he plumped down on the ground quite helplessly, and quivered
+and whined in his delight. As I was really sorry for him I used to
+caress him often, so as soon as he caught sight of me he began to whine
+in a plaintive, tearful way. He came to his end at the back of the jail,
+in the ditch; some dogs tore him to pieces.
+
+Koultiapka was quite a different style of dog. I don't know why I
+brought him in from one of the workshops, where he was just born; but it
+gave me pleasure to feed him, and see him grow big. Bull took Koultiapka
+under his protection, and slept with him. When the young dog began to
+grow up, Bull was remarkably complaisant with him. He allowed the pup to
+bite his ears, and pull his skin with his teeth; he played with him as
+mature dogs are in the habit of doing with the youngsters. It was a
+strange thing, but Koultiapka never grew in height at all, only in
+length and breadth. His hide was fluffy and mouse-coloured; one of his
+ears hung down, while the other was always cocked up. He was, like all
+young dogs, ardent and enthusiastic, yelping with pleasure when he saw
+his master, and jumping up to lick his face precisely as if he said: "As
+long as he sees how delighted I am, I don't care; let etiquette go to
+the devil!"
+
+Wherever I was, at my call, "Koultiapka," out he came from some corner,
+dashing towards me with noisy satisfaction, making a ball of himself,
+and rolling over and over. I was exceedingly fond of the little wretch,
+and I used to fancy that destiny had reserved for him nothing but joy
+and pleasure in this world of ours; but one fine day the convict
+Neustroief, who made women's shoes and prepared skins, cast his eye on
+him; something had evidently struck him, for he called Koultiapka, felt
+his skin, and turned him over on the ground in a friendly way. The
+unsuspicious dog barked with pleasure, but next day he was nowhere to be
+found. I hunted for him for some time, but in vain; at last, after two
+weeks, all was explained. Koultiapka's natural cloak had been too much
+for Neustroief, who had flayed him to make up with the skin some boots
+of fur-trimmed velvet ordered by the young wife of some official. He
+showed them me when they were done, their inside lining was magnificent;
+all Koultiapka, poor fellow!
+
+A good many convicts worked at tanning, and often brought with them to
+the jail dogs with a nice skin, which soon were seen no more. They stole
+them or bought them. I remember one day I saw a couple of convicts
+behind the kitchens laying their heads together. One of them held in a
+leash a very fine black dog of particularly good breed. A scamp of a
+footman had stolen it from his master, and sold it to our shoemakers for
+thirty kopecks. They were going to hang it; that was their way of
+disposing of them; then they took the skin off, and threw the body into
+a ditch used for _ejecta_, which was in the most distant corner of the
+court, and which stank most horribly during the summer heats, for it was
+rarely seen to.
+
+I think the poor beast understood the fate in store for him. It looked
+at us one after another in a distressed, scrutinising way; at intervals
+it gave a timid little wag with its bushy tail between its legs, as
+though trying to reach our hearts by showing us every confidence. I
+hastened away from the convicts, who finished their vile work without
+hindrance.
+
+As to the geese of the establishment, they had established themselves
+there quite fortuitously. Who took care of them? To whom did they
+belong? I really don't know; but they were a huge delight to our
+convicts, and acquired a certain fame throughout the town.
+
+They had been hatched in the convict establishment somewhere, and their
+head-quarters was the kitchen, whence they emerged in gangs of their
+own, when the gangs of convicts went out to their work. But as soon as
+the drum beat and the prisoners massed themselves at the great gate, out
+ran the geese after them, cackling and flapping their wings, then they
+jumped one after the other over the elevated threshold of the gateway;
+while the convicts were at their work, the geese pecked about at a
+little distance from them. As soon as they had done and set out for the
+jail, again the geese joined the procession, and people who passed by
+would cry out, "I say, there are the prisoners with their friends, the
+geese!" "How did you teach them to follow you?" some one would ask.
+"Here's some money for your geese," another said, putting his hand in
+his pocket. In spite of their devotion to the convicts they had their
+necks twisted to make a feast at the end of the Lent of some year, I
+forget which.
+
+Nobody would ever have made up his mind to kill our goat Vaska, unless
+something particular had happened; as it did. I don't know how it got
+into our prison, or who had brought it. It was a white kid, and very
+pretty. After some days it had won all hearts, it was diverting and
+winning. As some excuse was needed for keeping it in the jail, it was
+given out that it was quite necessary to have a goat in the stables; but
+he didn't live there, but in the kitchen principally; and after a while
+he roamed about all over the place. The creature was full of grace and
+as playful as could be, jumped on the tables, wrestled with the
+convicts, came when it was called, and was always full of spirits and
+fun.
+
+One evening, the Lesghian Baba�, who was seated on the stone steps at
+the doors of the barracks among a crowd of other convicts, took it into
+his head to have a wrestling bout with Vaska, whose horns were pretty
+long.
+
+They butted their foreheads against one another--that was the way the
+convicts amused themselves with him--when all of a sudden Vaska jumped
+on the highest step, lifted himself up on his hind legs, drew his
+fore-feet to him and managed to strike the Lesghian on the back of the
+neck with all his might, and with such effect that Baba� went headlong
+down the steps to the great delight of all who were by as well as of
+Baba� himself.
+
+In a word, we all adored our Vaska. When he attained the age of puberty,
+a general and serious consultation was held, as the result of which, he
+was subjected to an operation which one of the prison veterinaries
+executed in a masterly manner.
+
+"Well," said the prisoners, "he won't have any goat-smell about him,
+that's one comfort."
+
+Vaska then began to lay on fat in the most surprising way. I must say
+that we fed him quite unconscionably. He became a most beautiful fellow,
+with magnificent horns, corpulent beyond anything. Sometimes as he
+walked, he rolled over on the ground heavily out of sheer fatness. He
+went with us out to work too, which was very diverting to the convicts
+and all others who saw; and everybody got to know Vaska, the jailbird.
+
+When they worked at the river bank, the prisoners used to cut willow
+branches and other foliage, and gather flowers in the ditches to
+ornament Vaska. They used to twine the branches and flowers round his
+horns and decorate his body with garlands. Vaska then came back at the
+head of the gang in a splendid state of ornamentation, and we all came
+after in high pride at seeing him such a beauty.
+
+This love for our goat went so far that prisoners raised the question,
+not a very wise one, whether Vaska ought not to have his horns gilded.
+It was a vain idea; nothing came of it. I asked Akim Akimitch, the best
+gilder in the jail, whether you really could gild a goat's horns. He
+examined Vaska's quite closely, thought a bit, and then said that it
+could be done, but that it would not last, and would be quite useless.
+So nothing came of it. Vaska would have lived for many years more, and,
+no doubt, have died of asthma at last, if, one day as he returned from
+work at the head of the convicts, his path had not been crossed by the
+Major, who was seated in his carriage. Vaska was in particularly
+gorgeous array.
+
+"Halt!" yelled the Major. "Whose goat is that?"
+
+They told him.
+
+"What! a goat in the prison! and that without my leave? Sub-officer!"
+
+The sub-officer received orders to kill the goat without a moment's
+delay; flay him, and sell his skin; and put the proceeds to the
+prisoners' account. As to the meat, he ordered it to be cooked with the
+convicts' cabbage soup.
+
+The occurrence was much discussed; the goat was much mourned; but nobody
+dared to disobey the Major. Vaska was put to death close to the ditch I
+spoke of just now. One of the convicts bought the carcase, paying a
+rouble and fifty kopecks. With this money white bread was bought for
+everybody. The man who had bought the goat sold him at retail in a
+roasted state. The meat was delicious.
+
+We had also, during some time, in our prison a steppe eagle; a quite
+small species. A convict brought it in, wounded, half-dead. Everybody
+came flocking around it; it could not fly, its right wing being quite
+powerless; one of its legs was badly hurt. It gazed on the curious crowd
+wrathfully, and opened its crooked beak, as if prepared to sell its life
+dearly. When we had looked at him long enough, and the crowd dispersed,
+the lamed bird went off, hopping on one paw and flapping his wing, and
+hid himself in the most distant part of the place he could find; there
+he huddled himself in a corner against the palings.
+
+During the three months that he remained in our court-yard he never came
+out of his corner. At first we went to look at him pretty often, and
+sometimes they set Bull at him, who threw himself forward with fury, but
+was frightened to go too near, which mightily amused the convicts. "A
+wild chap that! He won't stand any nonsense!" But Bull after a while got
+over his fright, and began to worry him. When he was roused to it, the
+dog would catch hold of the bird's bad wing, and the creature defended
+itself with beak and claws, and then got up closer into his corner with
+a proud, savage sort of demeanour, like a wounded king, fixing his eyes
+steadily on the fellows looking at his misery.
+
+They tired of the sport after a while, and the eagle seemed quite
+forgotten; but there was some one who, every day, put close to him a bit
+of fresh meat and a vessel with some water. At first, and for several
+days, the eagle would eat nothing; at last, he made up his mind to take
+what was left for him, but he never could be got to take anything from
+the hand, or in public. Sometimes I succeeded in watching his
+proceedings at some distance.
+
+When he saw nobody, and thought he was alone, he ventured upon leaving
+his corner and limping along the palisade for a dozen steps or so, then
+went back; and so forwards and backwards, precisely as if he were taking
+exercise for his health under medical orders. As soon as ever he caught
+sight of me he made for his corner as quickly as he possibly could,
+limping and hopping. Then he threw his head back, opened his mouth,
+ruffled himself, and seemed to make ready for fight.
+
+In vain I tried to caress him. He bit and struggled as soon as he was
+touched. Not once did he take the meat I offered him, and all the time I
+remained by him he kept his wicked, piercing eye upon me. Lonely and
+revengeful he waited for death, defying, refusing to be reconciled with
+everything and everybody.
+
+At last the convicts remembered him, after two months of complete
+forgetfulness, and then they showed a sympathy I did not expect of
+them. It was unanimously agreed to carry him out.
+
+"Let him die, but let him die in freedom," said the prisoners.
+
+"Sure enough, a free and independent bird like that will never get used
+to the prison," added others.
+
+"He's not like us," said some one.
+
+"Oh well, he's a bird, and we're human beings."
+
+"The eagle, pals, is the king of the woods," began Skouratof; but that
+day nobody paid any attention to him.
+
+One afternoon, when the drum beat for beginning work, they took the
+eagle, tied his beak (for he struck a desperate attitude), and took him
+out of the prison on to the ramparts. The twelve convicts of the gang
+were extremely anxious to know where he would go to. It was a strange
+thing: they all seemed as happy as though they had themselves got their
+freedom.
+
+"Oh, the wretched brute. One wants to do him a kindness, and he tears
+your hand for you by way of thanks," said the man who held him, looking
+almost lovingly at the spiteful bird.
+
+"Let him fly off, Mikitka!"
+
+"It doesn't suit _him_ being a prisoner; give him his freedom, his jolly
+freedom."
+
+They threw him from the ramparts on to the steppe. It was just at the
+end of autumn, a gray, cold day. The wind whistled on the bare steppe
+and went groaning through the yellow dried-up grass. The eagle made off
+directly, flapping his wounded wing, as if in a hurry to quit us and get
+himself a shelter from our piercing eyes. The convicts watched him
+intently as he went along with his head just above the grass.
+
+"Do you see him, hey?" said one very pensively.
+
+"He doesn't look round," said another; "he hasn't looked behind once."
+
+"Did you happen to fancy he'd come back to thank us?" said a third.
+
+"Sure enough, he's free; he feels it. It's _freedom_!"
+
+"Yes, freedom."
+
+"You won't see him any more, pals."
+
+"What are you about sticking there? March, march!" cried the escort, and
+all went slowly to their work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+GRIEVANCES
+
+
+At the outset of this chapter, the editor of the "Recollections" of the
+late Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff thinks it his duty to
+communicate what follows to his readers.
+
+"In the first chapter of the 'Recollections of the House of the Dead,'
+something was said about a parricide, of noble birth, who was put
+forward as an instance of the insensibility with which the convicts
+speak of the crimes they have committed. It was also stated that he
+refused altogether to confess to the authorities and the court; but
+that, thanks to the statements of persons who knew all the details of
+his case and history, his guilt was put beyond all doubt. These persons
+had informed the author of the 'Recollections,' that the criminal had
+been of dissolute life and overwhelmed with debts, and that he had
+murdered his father to come into the property. Besides, the whole town
+where this parricide was imprisoned told his story in precisely the same
+way, a fact of which the editor of these 'Recollections' has fully
+satisfied himself. It was further stated that this murderer, even when
+in the jail, was of quite a joyous and cheerful frame of mind, a sort of
+inconsiderate giddy-pated person, although intelligent, and that the
+author of the 'Recollections' had never observed any particular signs of
+cruelty about him, to which he added, 'So I, for my part, never could
+bring myself to believe him guilty.'
+
+"Some time ago the editor of the 'Recollections of the House of the
+Dead,' had intelligence from Siberia of the discovery of the innocence
+of this 'parricide,' and that he had undergone ten years of the
+imprisonment with hard labour for nothing; this was recognised and
+avowed by the authorities. The real criminals had been discovered and
+had confessed, and the unfortunate man in question set at liberty. All
+this stands upon unimpeachable and authoritative grounds."
+
+To say more would be useless. The tragical facts speak too clearly for
+themselves. All words are weak in such a case, where a life has been
+ruined by such an accusation. Such mistakes as these are among the
+dreadful possibilities of life, and such possibilities impart a keener
+and more vivid interest to the "Recollections of the House of the Dead,"
+which dreadful place we see may contain innocent as well as guilty men.
+
+To continue. I have said that I became at last, in some sense,
+accustomed, if not reconciled, to the conditions of convict life; but it
+was a long and dreadful time before I was. It took me nearly a year to
+get used to the prison, and I shall always regard this year as the most
+dreadful of my life, it is graven deep in my memory, down to the very
+least details. I think that I could minutely recall the events and
+feelings of each successive hour in it.
+
+I have said that the other prisoners, too, found it as difficult as I
+did to get used to the life they had to lead. During the whole of this
+first year, I used to ask myself whether they were really as calm as
+they seemed to be. Questions of this kind pressed themselves upon me. As
+I have mentioned before, all the convicts felt themselves in an alien
+element to which they could not reconcile themselves. The sense of home
+was an impossibility; they felt as if they were staying, as a stage
+upon a journey, in an evil sort of inn. These men, exiles for and from
+life, seemed either in a perpetual smouldering agitation, or else in
+deep depression; but there was not one who had not his ordinary ideas of
+one thing or another. This restlessness, which, if it did not come to
+the surface, was still unmistakable; those vague hopes of the poor
+creatures which existed in spite of themselves, hopes so ill-founded
+that they were more like the promptings of incipient insanity than aught
+else; all this stamped the place with a character, an originality,
+peculiarly its own. One could not but feel when one went there that
+there was nothing like it anywhere else in the whole world. There
+everybody went about in a sort of waking dream; nor was there anything
+to relieve or qualify the impressions the place made on the system of
+every man; so that all seemed to suffer from a sort of hyper�sthetic
+neurosis, and this dreaming of impossibilities gave to the majority of
+the convicts a sombre and morose aspect, for which the word morbid is
+not strong enough. Nearly all were taciturn and irascible, preferring to
+keep to themselves the hopes they secretly and vainly cherished. The
+result was, that anything like ingenuousness or frank statement was the
+object of general contempt. Precisely because these wild hopings were
+impossible, and, despite themselves, were felt to be so, confessed to
+their more lucid selves to be so, they kept them jealously concealed in
+the most secret recesses of their souls; while to renounce them was
+beyond their powers of self-control. It may be they were ashamed of
+their imagination. God knows. The Russian character is, in its normal
+conditions, so positive and sober in its way of looking at life, so
+pitiless in criticism of its own weaknesses.
+
+Perhaps it was this inward misery of self-dissatisfaction which was at
+the bottom of the impatience and intolerance the convicts showed among
+themselves, and of the cruel biting things they said to each other. If
+one of them, more na�ve or impartial than the rest, put into words what
+every one of them had in his mind, painted his castles in the air, told
+his dreams of liberty, or plans of escape, they shut him up with brutal
+promptitude, and made the poor fellow's life a burden to him with their
+sarcasms and jests. And I think those did it most unscrupulously who had
+perhaps themselves gone furthest in cherishing futile hopes, and
+indulging in senseless expectations. I have said, more than once, that
+those among them who were marked by simplicity and candour were looked
+on rather as being stupid and idiotic; there was nothing but contempt
+for them. The convicts were so soured and, in the wrong sense,
+sensitive, that they positively hated anything like amiability or
+unselfishness. I should be disposed to classify them all broadly, as
+either good or bad men, morose or cheerful, putting by themselves, as a
+sort of separate creatures, the ingenious fellows who could not hold
+their tongues. But the sour-tempered were in far the greatest majority;
+some of these were talkative, but these were usually of slanderous and
+envious disposition, always poking their noses into other people's
+business, though they took good care not to let anybody have a glimpse
+of the secret thoughts of their _own_ souls; that would have been
+against the fashions and conventions of this strange, little world. As
+to the fellows who were really good--very few indeed were they--these
+were always very quiet and peaceable, and buried their hopes, if they
+had any, in strict silence; but more of real faith went with their hopes
+than was the case with the gloomy-minded among the convicts. Stay, there
+was one category further among our convicts, which ought not to be
+forgotten; the men who had lost all hope, who were despairing and
+desperate, like the old man of Starodoub; but these were very few
+indeed.
+
+The old man of Starodoub! This was a very subdued, quiet, old man; but
+there were some indications of what went on in him, which he could not
+help giving, and from which, I could not help seeing, that his inward
+life was one of intolerable horror; still he had _something_ to fall
+back upon for help and consolation--prayer, and the notion that he was a
+martyr. The convict who was always reading the Bible, of whom I spoke
+earlier, the one that went mad and threw himself, brick in hand, upon
+the Major, was also probably one of those whom hope had altogether
+abandoned; and, as it is perfectly impossible to go on living without
+hope of some sort, he threw away his life as a sort of voluntary
+sacrifice. He declared that he attacked the Major though he had no
+grievance in particular; all he wanted was to have some torments
+inflicted on himself.
+
+Now, what sort of psychological operation had been going on in _that_
+man's soul? No man lives, can live, without having _some_ object in
+view, and making efforts to attain that object. But when object there is
+none, and hope is entirely fled, anguish often turns a man into a
+monster. The object _we_ all had in view was liberty, and getting out of
+our place of confinement and hard labour.
+
+So I try to place our convicts in separately-defined classes and
+categories; but it cannot well be done. Reality is a thing of infinite
+diversity, and defies the most ingenious deductions and definitions of
+abstract thought, nay, abhors the clear and precise classifications we
+so delight in. Reality tends to infinite subdivision of things, and
+truth is a matter of infinite shadings and differentiations. Every one
+of us who were there had his own peculiar, interior, strictly personal
+life, which lay altogether outside of the world of regulations and our
+official superintendence.
+
+But, as I have said before, I could not penetrate the depths of this
+interior life in the early part of my prison career, for everything that
+met my eyes, or challenged my attention in any way, filled me with a
+sadness for which there are no words. Sometimes I felt nothing short of
+hatred for poor creatures whose martyrdom was at least as great as mine.
+In those first days I envied them, because they were among persons of
+their own sort, and understood one another; so I thought, but the truth
+was that their enforced companionship, the comradeship where the word of
+command went with the whip or the rod, was as much an object of aversion
+to them as it was to myself, and every one of them tried to keep himself
+as much to himself as possible. This envious hatred of them, which came
+to me in moments of irritation, was not without its reasonable cause,
+for those who tell you so confidently that a cultivated man of the
+higher class does not suffer as a mere peasant does, are utterly in the
+wrong. That is a thing I have often heard said, and read too. In the
+abstract, the notion seems correct, and it is founded in generous
+sentiment, for all convicts are human beings alike; but in reality it is
+different. In the real living facts of the problem there come in a
+quantity of practical complications, and only experience can pronounce
+upon these: experience which I have had. I do not mean to lay it down
+peremptorily, that the nobleman and the man of culture feel more
+acutely, sensitively, deeply, because of their more highly developed
+conditions of being. On the other hand, it is impossible to bring all
+souls to one common level or standard; neither the grade of education,
+nor any other thing, furnishes a standard according to which punishment
+can be meted out.
+
+It is a great satisfaction to me to be able to say that among these
+dreadful sufferers, in a state of things so barbarous and abject, I
+found abundant proof that the elements of moral development were not
+wanting. In our convict establishment there were men whom I was familiar
+with for several years, and whom I looked upon as wild beasts and
+abhorred as such; well, all of a sudden, when I least expected it, these
+very men would exhibit such an abundance of feeling of the best kind, so
+keen a comprehension of the sufferings of others, seen in the light of
+the consciousness of their own, that one might almost fancy scales had
+fallen from their eyes. So sudden was it as to cause stupefaction; one
+could scarcely believe one's eyes or ears. Sometimes it was just the
+other way: educated men, well brought up, would occasionally display a
+savage, cynical brutality which nearly turned one's stomach, conduct of
+a kind impossible to excuse or justify, however much you might be
+charitably inclined to do so.
+
+I lay no stress on the entire change in the habits of life, the food,
+etc., as to which there come in points where the man of the higher
+classes suffers so much more keenly than the peasant or working man, who
+often goes hungry when free, while he always has his stomach-full in
+prison. We will leave all that out. Let it be admitted that for a man
+with some force of character these external things are a trifle in
+comparison with privations of a quite different kind; for all that, such
+total change of material conditions and habits is neither an easy nor a
+slight thing. But in the convict's _status_ there are elements of horror
+before which all other horrors pale, even the mud and filth everywhere
+about, the scantiness and uncleanness of the food, the irons on your
+limbs, the suffocating sense of being always held tight, as in a vice.
+
+The capital, the most important point of all is, that after a couple of
+hours or so, every new-comer to a convict establishment, who is of the
+lower class, shakes down into equality with the rest; he is _at home_
+among them, he has his "freedom" of this city of the enslaved, this
+community of convicted scoundrels, in which one man is superficially
+like every other man; he understands and is understood, he is looked
+upon by everybody as _one of themselves_. Now all this is _not_ so in
+the case of the nobleman. However kindly, just-minded, intelligent a man
+of the higher class may be, every soul there will hate and despise him
+during long years; they will neither understand nor believe in him, not
+one whit. He will be neither friend nor comrade in their eyes; if he
+can get them to stop insulting him it will be as much as he can do, but
+he will be alien to them from the first to the last, he will have to
+feel the grief of a ceaseless, hopeless, causeless solitude and
+sequestration. Sometimes it is the case that sheer ill-will on the part
+of the prisoners has nothing to do with bringing about this state of
+things, it simply cannot be helped; the nobleman is not one of the gang,
+and there's the whole secret.
+
+There is nothing more horrible than to live out of the social sphere to
+which you properly belong. The peasant, transported from Taganrog to
+Petropavlosk, finds there Russian peasants like himself; between him and
+them there can be mutual intelligence; in an hour they will be friends,
+and live comfortably together in the same izba or the same barrack. With
+the nobleman it is wholly otherwise; a bottomless abyss separates him
+from the lower classes, _how_ deep and impassable is only seen when a
+nobleman forfeits his position and becomes as one of the populace
+himself. You may be your whole life in daily relations with the peasant,
+forty years you may do business with him regularly as the day comes--let
+us suppose it so, at all events--by the calls of official position or
+administrative duty; you may be his benefactor, all but a father to
+him--well, you'll never know what is at the bottom of the man's mind or
+heart. You may think you know something about him, but it is all optical
+illusion, nothing more. My readers will charge me with exaggeration, but
+I am convinced I am quite right. I don't go on theory or book-reading in
+this; in my case the realities of life have given me only too ample time
+and opportunity for reviewing and correcting my theoretic convictions,
+which, as to this, are now fixed. Perhaps everybody will some day learn
+how well founded I am in what I say about this.
+
+All this was theory when I first went into the convict establishment,
+but events, and things observed, soon came to confirm me in such views,
+and what I experienced so affected my system as to undermine its
+health. During the first summer I wandered about the place, so far as I
+was free to move, a solitary, friendless man. My moral situation was
+such that I could not distinguish those among the convicts who, in the
+sequel, managed to care for me a little in spite of the distance that
+always remained between us. There _were_ there men of my own position,
+ex-nobles like myself, but their companionship was repugnant to me.
+
+Here is one of the incidents which obliged me to see at the outset, how
+solitary a creature I was, and all the strangeness of my position at the
+place. One day in August, a fine warm day, about one o'clock in the
+afternoon, a time when, as a rule, everybody took a nap before resuming
+work, the convicts rose as one man and massed themselves in the
+court-yard. I had not the slightest idea, up to that moment, that
+anything was going on. So deeply had I been sunk in my own thoughts,
+that I saw nearly nothing of what was happening about me of any kind.
+But it seems that the convicts had been in a smouldering sort of unusual
+agitation for three days. Perhaps it had begun sooner; so I thought
+later when I remembered stray remarks, bits of talk that had come to my
+ears, the palpable increase of ill-humour among the prisoners, their
+unusual irritability for some time past. I had attributed it all to the
+trying summer work, the insufferably long days; to their dreamings about
+the woods, and freedom, which the season brought up; to the nights too
+short for rest. It may be that all these things came together to form a
+mass of discontent, that only wanted a tolerably good reason for
+exploding; it was found in the food.
+
+For several days the convicts had not concealed their dissatisfaction
+with it in open talk in their barracks, and they showed it plainly when
+assembled for dinner or supper; one of the cooks had been changed, but,
+after a couple of days, the new comer was sent to the right-about, and
+the old one brought back. The restlessness and ill-humour were general;
+mischief was brewing.
+
+"Here are we slaving to death, and they give us nothing but filth to
+eat," grumbled one in the kitchen.
+
+"If you don't like it, why don't you order jellies and blanc-mange?"
+said another.
+
+"Sour cabbage soup, why, that's _good_. I delight in it; there's nothing
+more juicy," exclaimed a third.
+
+"Well, if they gave you nothing but beef, beef, beef, for ever and ever,
+would you like _that_?"
+
+"Yes, yes; they ought to give us meat," said a fourth; "one's almost
+killed at the workshops; and, by heaven! when one has got through with
+work there one's hungry, hungry; and you don't get anything to satisfy
+your hunger."
+
+"It's true, the victuals are simply damnable."
+
+"He fills his pockets, don't you fear!"
+
+"It isn't your business."
+
+"Whose business is it? My belly's my own. If we were all to make a row
+about it together, you'd soon see."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Haven't we been beaten enough for complaining, dolt that you are?"
+
+"True enough! What's done in a hurry is never well done. And how would
+you set about making a raid over it, tell me that?"
+
+"I'll tell you, by God! If everybody will go, I'll go too, for I'm just
+dying of hunger. It's all very well for those who eat at a better table,
+apart, to keep quiet; but those who eat the regulation food----"
+
+"There's a fellow with eyes that do their work, bursting with envy _he_
+is. Don't his eyes glisten when he sees something that doesn't belong to
+him?"
+
+"Well, pals, why don't we make up our minds? Have we gone through
+enough? They flay us, the brigands! Let's go at them."
+
+"What's the good? I tell you ye must chew what they give you, and stuff
+your mouth full of it. Look at the fellow, he wants people to chew his
+food for him. We're in prison, and have got to stand it."
+
+"Yes, that's it; we're in prison."
+
+"That's it always; the people die of hunger, and the Government fills
+its belly."
+
+"That's true. Our eight-eyes (_the Major_) has got finely fat over it;
+he's bought a pair of gray horses."
+
+"He don't like his glass at all, that fellow," said a convict
+ironically.
+
+"He had a bout at cards a little while ago with the vet; for two hours
+he played without a half-penny in his pocket. Fedka told me so."
+
+"That's why we get cabbage soup that's fit for nothing."
+
+"You're all idiots! It doesn't matter; _nothing_ matters."
+
+"I tell you if we all join in complaining we shall see what he has to
+say for himself. Let's make up our minds."
+
+"_Say_ for himself? You'll get his fist on your pate; that's just all."
+
+"I tell you they'll have him up, and try him."
+
+All the prisoners were in great agitation; the truth is, the food was
+execrable. The general anguish, suffering, and suspense seemed to be
+coming to a head. Convicts are, by disposition, or, as such, quarrelsome
+and rebellious; but a general revolt is rare, for they can never agree
+upon it; we all of us felt that since there was, as a rule, more violent
+talk than doing.
+
+This time, however, the agitation did not fall to the ground. The men
+gathered in groups in their barracks, talking things over in a violent
+way, and going over all the particulars of the Major's misdoings, and
+trying to get to the bottom of them. In all affairs of that sort there
+are ringleaders and firebrands. The ringleaders on such occasions are
+generally rather remarkable fellows, not only in convict
+establishments, but among all large organisations of workmen, military
+detachments, etc. They are always people of a peculiar type,
+enthusiastic men, who have a thirst for justice, very na�ve, simple, and
+strong, convinced that their desires are fully capable of realisation;
+they have as much sense as other people; some are of high intelligence;
+but they are too full of warmth and zeal to measure their acts. When you
+come across people who really do know how to direct the masses, and get
+what they want, you find a quite different sort of popular leaders, and
+one excessively rare among us Russians. The more usual type of leader,
+the one I first alluded to, does certainly in some sense accomplish
+their object, so far as bringing about a rising is concerned; but it all
+ends in filling up the prisons and convict establishments. Thanks to
+their impetuosity they always come off second-best; but it is this
+impetuosity that gives them their influences over the masses; their
+ardent, honest indignation does its work, and draws in the more
+irresolute. Their blind confidence of success seduces even the most
+hardened sceptics, although this confidence is generally based on such
+uncertain, childish reasons that it is wonderful how people can put
+faith in them.
+
+The secret of their influence is that they put themselves at the head,
+and _go_ ahead, without flinching. They dash forward, heads down, often
+without the least knowledge worth the name of what they are about, and
+have nothing about them of the jesuitical practical faculty by dint of
+which a vile and worthless man often hits his mark and comes uppermost,
+and will sometimes come all white out of a tub of ink. They _must_ dash
+their skulls against stone walls. Under ordinary circumstances these
+people are bilious, irascible, intolerant, contemptuous, often very
+warm, which really after all is part of the secret of their strength.
+The deplorable thing is that they never go at what is the essential, the
+vital part of their task, they always go off at once into details
+instead of going straight to their mark, and this is their ruin. But
+they and the mob understand one another; that makes them formidable.
+
+I must say a few words about this word "grievance."
+
+
+Some of the convicts had been transported in connection with a
+"grievance;" these were the most excited among them, notably a certain
+Martinoff, who had formerly served in the Hussars, an eager, restless,
+and choleric, but a worthy and truthful, fellow. Another, Vassili
+Antonoff, could work himself up into anger coolly and collectedly; he
+had a generally impudent expression, and a sarcastic smile, but he, too,
+was honest, and a man of his word, and of no little education. I won't
+enumerate; there were plenty of them. Petroff went about in a hurried
+way from one group to another. He spoke few words, but he was quite as
+highly excited as any one there, for he was the first to spring out of
+the barrack when the others massed themselves in the court-yard.
+
+Our sergeant, who acted as sergeant-major, came up very soon in quite a
+fright. The convicts got into rank, and politely begged him to tell the
+Major that they wanted to speak with him and put him a few questions.
+Behind the sergeant came all the invalids, who ranked themselves in face
+of the convicts. What they asked the sergeant to do frightened the man
+out of his wits almost, but he dared not refuse to go and report to the
+Major, for if the convicts mutinied, God only knows what might happen.
+All the men set over us showed themselves great poltroons in handling
+the prisoners; then, even if nothing further worse happened, if the
+convicts thought better of it and dispersed, the sub-officer was still
+in duty bound to inform the authorities of what had been going on. Pale,
+and trembling with fright, he went headlong to the Major, without even
+an effort to bring the convicts to reason. He saw that they were not
+minded to put up with any of his talk, no doubt.
+
+Without the least idea of what was going on, I went into rank myself
+(it was only later that I heard the earlier details of the story). I
+thought that the muster-roll was to be called, but I did not see the
+soldiers who verify the lists, so I was surprised, and began to look
+about me a little. The men's faces were working with emotion, and some
+were ghostly pale. They were sternly silent, and seemed to be thinking
+of what they should say to the Major. I observed that many of the
+convicts seemed to wonder at seeing me among them, but they turned their
+glances away from me. No doubt they thought it strange that I should
+come into the ranks with them, and join in their remonstrances, and
+could not quite believe it. Then they turned round to me again in a
+questioning sort of way.
+
+"What are you doing here?" said Vassili Antonoff, in a loud, rude voice;
+he happened to be close to me, and a little way from the rest; the man
+had always hitherto been scrupulously polite to me.
+
+I looked at him in perplexity, trying to understand what he meant by it;
+I began to see that something extraordinary was up in our prison.
+
+"Yes, indeed, what are you about here? Go off into the barrack," said a
+young fellow, a soldier-convict, whom I did not know till then, and who
+was a good, quiet lad, "this is none of _your_ business."
+
+"Have we not fallen into rank," I answered, "aren't we going to be
+mustered?"
+
+"Why, _he's_ come, too," cried one of them.
+
+"Iron-nose,"[7] said another.
+
+"Fly-killer," added a third, with inexpressible contempt for me in his
+tone. This new nickname caused a general burst of laughter.
+
+"These fellows are in clover everywhere. We are in prison, with hard
+labour, I rather fancy; they get wheat-bread and sucking-pig, like great
+lords as they are. Don't you get your victuals by yourself? What are you
+doing here?"
+
+"Your place is not here," said Koulikoff to me brusquely, taking me by
+the hand and leading me out of the ranks.
+
+He was himself very pale; his dark eyes sparkled with fire, he had
+bitten his under lip till the blood came; he wasn't one of those who
+expected the Major without losing self-possession.
+
+I liked to look at Koulikoff when he was in trying circumstances like
+these; then he showed himself just what he was in his strong points and
+weak. He attitudinised, but he knew how to act, too. I think he would
+have gone to his death with a certain affected elegance. While everybody
+was insulting me in words and tones, his politeness was greater than
+ever; but he spoke in a firm and resolved tone which admitted of no
+reply.
+
+"We are here on business of our own, Alexander Petrovitch, and you've
+got to keep out of it. Go where you like and wait till it's over ...
+here, your people are in the kitchens, go there."
+
+"They're in hot quarters down there."
+
+I did in fact see our Poles at the open window of the kitchen, in
+company with a good many other convicts. I did not well know what to be
+at; but went there followed by laughter, insulting remarks, and that
+sort of muttered growling which is the prison substitute for the
+hissings and cat-calls of the world of freedom.
+
+"He doesn't like it at all! Chu, chu, chu! Seize him!"
+
+I had never been so bitterly insulted since I was in the place. It was a
+very painful moment, but just what was to be expected in the excessive
+excitement the men were labouring under. In the ante-room I met T--vski,
+a young nobleman of not much information, but of firm, generous
+character; the convicts excepted him from the hatred they felt for the
+convicts of noble birth; they were almost fond of him; every one of his
+gestures denoted the brave and energetic man.
+
+"What are you about, Goriantchikoff?" he cried to me; "come here, come
+here!"
+
+"But what is _it_ all about?"
+
+"They are going to make a formal complaint, don't you know it? It won't
+do them a bit of good; who'll pay any attention to convicts? They'll try
+to find out the ringleaders, and if we are among them they'll lay it all
+on us. Just remember what we have been transported for. They'll only get
+a whipping, but we shall be put regularly to trial. The Major detests us
+all, and will be only too happy to ruin us; all his sins will fall on
+our shoulders."
+
+"The convicts would tie us hands and feet and sell us directly," added
+M--tski, when we got into the kitchen.
+
+"They'll never have mercy on _us_," added T--vski.
+
+Besides the nobles there were in the kitchen about thirty other
+prisoners who did not want to join in the general complaints, some
+because they were afraid, others because of their conviction that the
+whole proceeding would prove quite useless. Akim Akimitch, who was a
+decided opponent of everything that savoured of complaint, or that could
+interfere with discipline and the usual routine, waited with great
+phlegm to see the end of the business, about which he did not care a
+jot. He was perfectly convinced that the authorities would put it all
+down immediately.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch's nose drooped visibly as he listened in a sort of
+frightened curiosity to what we said about the affair; he was much
+disturbed. With the Polish nobles were some inferior persons of the same
+nation, as well as some Russians, timid, dull, silent fellows, who had
+not dared to join the rest, and who waited in a melancholy way to see
+what the issue would be. There were also some morose, discontented
+convicts, who remained in the kitchen, not because they were afraid, but
+that they thought this half-revolt an absurdity which could not
+succeed; it seemed to me that these were not a little disturbed, and
+their faces were quite unsteady. They saw clearly that they were in the
+right, and that the issue of the movement would be what they had
+foretold, but they had a sort of feeling that they were traitors who had
+sold their comrades to the Major. Jolkin--the long-headed Siberian
+peasant sent to hard labour for coining, the man who got Koulikoff's
+town practice from him--was there also, as well as the old man of
+Starodoub. None of the cooks had left their post, perhaps because they
+looked upon themselves as belonging specially to the authorities of the
+place, whom it would be unbecoming, therefore, to join in opposing.
+
+"For all that," said I to M--tski, "except these fellows, all the
+convicts are in it," and no doubt I said it in a way that showed
+misgivings.
+
+"I wonder what in the world _we_ have to do with it?" growled B----.
+
+"We should have risked a good deal more than they had we gone with them;
+and why? _Je hais ces brigands._[8] Why, do you think that they'll bring
+themselves up to the scratch after all? I can't see what they want
+putting their heads in the lion's mouth, the fools."
+
+"It'll all come to nothing," said some one, an obstinate, sour-tempered
+old fellow. Almazoff, who was with us too, agreed heartily in this.
+
+"Some fifty of them will get a good beating, and that's all the good
+they'll all get out of it."
+
+"Here's the Major!" cried one; everybody ran to the windows.
+
+The Major had come up, spectacles and all, looking as wicked as might
+be, towering with passion, red as a turkey-cock. He came on without a
+word, and in a determined manner, right up to the line of the convicts.
+In conjunctures of this sort he showed uncommon pluck and presence of
+mind; but it ought not to be overlooked that he was nearly always
+half-seas over. Just then his greasy cap, with its yellow border, and
+his tarnished silver epaulettes, gave him a Mephistophelic look in my
+excited fancy. Behind him came the quartermaster, Diatloff, who was
+quite a personage in the establishment, for he was really at the bottom
+of all the authorities did. He was an exceedingly capable and cunning
+fellow, and wielded great influence with the Major. He was not by any
+means a bad sort of man, and the convicts were, in a general way, not
+ill-inclined towards him. Our sergeant followed him with three or four
+soldiers, no more; he had already had a tremendous wigging, and there
+was plenty more of the same to come, if he knew it. The convicts, who
+had remained uncovered, cap in hand, from the moment they sent for the
+Major, stiffened themselves, every man shifting his weight to the other
+leg; then they remained motionless, and waited for the first word, or
+the first shout rather, to come from him.
+
+They had not long to wait. Before he had got more than one word out, the
+Major began to shout at the top of his voice; he was beside himself with
+rage. We saw him from the windows running all along the line of
+convicts, dashing at them here and there with angry questions. As we
+were a pretty good distance off, we could not hear what he said or their
+replies. We only heard his shouts, or rather what seemed shouting,
+groaning, and grunting beautifully mingled.
+
+"Scoundrels! mutineers! to the cat with ye! Whips and sticks! The
+ringleaders? _You're_ one of the ringleaders!" throwing himself on one
+of them.
+
+We did not hear the answer; but a minute after we saw this convict leave
+the ranks and make for the guard-house.
+
+Another followed, then a third.
+
+"I'll have you up, every man of you. I'll---- Who's in the kitchen
+there?" he bawled, as he saw us at the open windows. "Here with all of
+you! Drive 'em all out, every man!"
+
+Diatloff, the quartermaster, came towards the kitchens. When we had
+told him that _we_ were not complaining of any grievance, he returned,
+and reported to the Major at once.
+
+"Ah, those fellows are not in it," said he, lowering his tone a bit, and
+much pleased. "Never mind, bring them along here."
+
+We left the kitchen. I could not help feeling humiliation; all of us
+went along with our heads down.
+
+"Ah, Prokofief! Jolkin too; and you, Almazof! Here, come here, all the
+lump of you!" cried the Major to us, with a gasp; but he was somewhat
+softened, his tone was even obliging. "M--tski, you're here too?... Take
+down the names. Diatloff, take down all the names, the grumblers in one
+list and the contented ones in another--all, without exception; you'll
+give me the list. I'll have you all before the Committee of
+Superintendence.... I'll ... brigands!"
+
+This word "_list_" told.
+
+"We've nothing to complain of!" cried one of the malcontents, in a
+half-strangled sort of voice.
+
+"Ah, you've nothing to complain of! _Who's_ that? Let all those who have
+nothing to complain of step out of the ranks."
+
+"All of us, all of us!" came from some others.
+
+"Ah, the food is all right, then? You've been put up to it. Ringleaders,
+mutineers, eh? So much the worse for them."
+
+"But, what do you mean by that?" came from a voice in the crowd.
+
+"Where is the fellow that said that?" roared the Major, throwing himself
+to where the voice came from. "It was you, Rastorgou�ef, you; to the
+guard-house with you."
+
+Rastorgou�ef, a young, chubby fellow of high stature, left the ranks and
+went with slow steps to the guard-house. It was not he who had said it,
+but, as he was called out, he did not venture to contradict.
+
+"You fellows are too fat, that's what makes you unruly!" shouted the
+Major. "You wait, you hulking rascal, in three days you'd---- Wait! I'll
+have it out with you all. Let all those who have nothing to complain of
+come out of the ranks, I say----"
+
+"We're not complaining of anything, your worship," said some of the
+convicts with a sombre air; the rest preserved an obstinate silence. But
+the Major wanted nothing further; it was his interest to stop the thing
+with as little friction as might be.
+
+"Ah, _now_ I see! _Nobody_ has anything to complain of," said he. "I
+knew it, I saw it all. It's ringleaders, there are ringleaders, by God,"
+he went on, speaking to Diatloff. "We must lay our hands on them, every
+man of them. And now--now--it's time to go to your work. Drummer, there;
+drummer, a roll!"
+
+He told them off himself in small detachments. The convicts dispersed
+sadly and silently, only too glad to get out of his sight. Immediately
+after the gangs went off, the Major betook himself to the guard-house,
+where he began to make his dispositions as to the "ringleaders," but he
+did not push matters far. It was easy to see that he wanted to be done
+with the whole business as soon as possible. One of the men charged told
+us later that he had begged for forgiveness, and that the officer had
+let him go immediately. There can be no doubt that our Major did not
+feel firm in the saddle; he had had a fright, I fancy, for a mutiny is
+always a ticklish thing, and although this complaint of the convicts
+about the food did not amount really to mutiny (only the Major had been
+reported to about it, and the Governor himself), yet it was an
+uncomfortable and dangerous affair. What gave him most anxiety was that
+the prisoners had been unanimous in their movement, so their discontent
+had to be got over somehow, at any price. The ringleaders were soon set
+free. Next day the food was passable, but this improvement did not last
+long; on the days ensuing the disturbance, the Major went about the
+prison much more than usual, and always found something irregular to be
+stopped and punished. Our sergeant came and went in a puzzled, dazed
+sort of way, as if he could not get over his stupefaction at what had
+happened. As to the convicts, it took long for them to quiet down again,
+but their agitation seemed to wear quite a different character; they
+were restless and perplexed. Some went about with their heads down,
+without saying a word; others discussed the event in a grumbling,
+helpless kind of way. A good many said biting things about their own
+proceedings as though they were quite out of conceit with themselves.
+
+"I say, pal, take and eat!" said one.
+
+"Where's the mouse that was so ready to bell the cat?"
+
+"Let's think ourselves lucky that he did not have us all well beaten."
+
+"It would be a good deal better if you thought more and chattered less."
+
+"What do _you_ mean by lecturing me? Are you schoolmaster here, I'd like
+to know?"
+
+"Oh, you want putting to the right-about."
+
+"Who are you, I'd like to know?"
+
+"I'm a man! What are you?"
+
+"A man! You're----"
+
+"You're----"
+
+"I say! Shut up, do! What's the good of all this row?" was the cry from
+all sides.
+
+On the evening of the day the "mutiny" took place, I met Petroff behind
+the barracks after the day's work. He was looking for me. As he came
+near me, I heard him exclaim something, which I didn't understand, in a
+muttering sort of way; then he said no more, and walked by my side in a
+listless, mechanical fashion.
+
+"I say, Petroff, your fellows are not vexed with us, are they?"
+
+"Who's vexed?" he asked, as if coming to himself.
+
+"The convicts with us--with us nobles."
+
+"Why should they be vexed?"
+
+"Well, because we did not back them up."
+
+"Oh, why should you have kicked up a dust?" he answered, as if trying to
+enter into my meaning: "you have a table to yourselves, you fellows."
+
+"Oh, well, there are some of you, not nobles, who don't eat the
+regulation food, and who went in with you. We ought to back you up,
+we're in the same place; we ought to be comrades."
+
+"Oh, I _say_. Are you our comrades?" he asked, with unfeigned
+astonishment.
+
+I looked at him; it was clear that he had not the least comprehension of
+my meaning; but I, on the other hand, entered only too thoroughly into
+his. I saw now, quite thoroughly, something of which I had before only a
+confused idea; what I had before guessed at was now sad certainty.
+
+It was forced on my perceptions that any sort of real fellowship between
+the convicts and myself could never be; not even were I to remain in the
+place as long as life should last. I was a convict of the "special
+section," a creature for ever apart. The expression of Petroff when he
+said, "are we comrades, how can that be?" remains, and will always
+remain before my eyes. There was a look of such frank, na�ve surprise in
+it, such ingenuous astonishment that I could not help asking myself if
+there was not some lurking irony in the man, just a little spiteful
+mockery. Not at all, it was simply meant. I was not their comrade, and
+could not be; that was all. Go you to the right, we'll go to the left!
+your business is yours, ours is ours.
+
+I really fancied that, after the mutiny, they would attack us
+mercilessly so far as they dared and could, and that our life would
+become a hell. But nothing of the sort happened; we did not hear the
+slightest reproach, there was not even an unpleasant allusion to what
+had happened, it was all simply passed over. They went on teasing us as
+before when opportunity served, no more. Nobody seemed to bear malice
+against those who would not join in, but remained in the kitchens, or
+against those who were the first to cry out that they had nothing to
+complain of. It was all passed over without a word, to my exceeding
+astonishment.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[7] An insulting phrase which is untranslatable.
+
+[8] French in the original Russian.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+MY COMPANIONS
+
+
+As will be understood, those to whom I was most drawn were people of my
+own sort, that is, those of "noble" birth, especially in the early days;
+but of the three ex-nobles in the place, who were Russians, I knew and
+spoke to but one, Akim Akimitch; the other two were the spy A----n, and
+the supposed parricide. Even with Akim I never exchanged a word except
+when in extremity, in moments when the melancholy on me was simply
+unendurable, and when I thought I really never should have the chance of
+getting close to any other human being again.
+
+In the last chapter I have tried to show that the convicts were of
+different types, and tried to classify them; but when I think of Akim
+Akimitch I don't know how to place him, he was quite _sui generis_, so
+far as I could observe, in that establishment.
+
+There may be, elsewhere, men like him, to whom it seemed as absolutely a
+matter of indifference whether he was a free man, or in jail at hard
+labour; at that place he stood alone in this curious impartiality of
+temperament. He had settled down in the jail as if he was going to pass
+his whole life, and didn't mind it at all. All his belongings, mattress,
+cushions, utensils, were so ordered as to give the impression that he
+was living in a furnished house of his own; there was nothing
+provisional, temporary, bivouac-like, about him, or his words, or his
+habits. He had a good many years still to spend in punishment, but I
+much doubt whether he ever gave a thought to the time when he would get
+out. He was entirely reconciled to his condition, not because he had
+made any effort to be so, but simply out of natural submissiveness; but,
+as far as his comfort went, it came to the same thing. He was not at all
+a bad fellow, and in the early days his advice and help were quite
+useful to me; but sometimes, I can't help saying it, his peculiarities
+deepened my natural melancholy until it became almost intolerable
+anguish.
+
+When I became desperate with silence and solitude of soul, I would get
+into talk with him; I wanted to hear, and reply to _some_ words falling
+from a living soul, and the more filled with gall and hatred with all
+our surroundings they had been, the more would they have been in
+sympathy with my wretched mood; but he would just barely talk, quietly
+go on sizing his lanterns, and then begin to tell me some story as to
+how he had been at a review of troops in 18--, that their general of
+division was so-and-so, that the manoeuvring had been very pretty, that
+there had been a change in the skirmisher's system of signalling, and
+the like; all of it in level imperturbable tones, like water falling
+drop by drop. He did not put any life into them even when he told me of
+a sharp affair in which he had been, in the Caucasus, for which his
+sword had got the decoration of the Riband of St. Anne. The only
+difference was, that his voice became a little more measured and grave;
+he lowered his tones when he pronounced the name "St. Anne," as though
+he were telling a great secret, and then, for three minutes at least,
+did not utter a word, but only looked solemn.
+
+During all that first year I had strange passages of feeling, in which I
+hated Akim Akimitch with a bitter hatred, I am sure I cannot say why,
+moments when I would despairingly curse the fate which made him my next
+neighbour on my camp-bed, so close indeed that our heads nearly touched.
+An hour afterwards I bitterly reproached myself for such extravagance.
+It was, however, only during my first year of confinement that these
+violent feelings overpowered me. As time went on, I got used to Akim
+Akimitch's singular character, and was ashamed of my former explosions.
+I don't remember that he and I ever got into anything like an open
+quarrel.
+
+Besides the three Russian nobles of whom I have spoken, there were eight
+others there during my time; with some of whom I came to be on a footing
+of intimate friendship. Even the best of them were morbid in mind,
+exclusive, and intolerant to the very last degree; with two of them I
+was obliged to discontinue all spoken intercourse. There were only three
+who had any education, B--ski, M--tski, and the old man, J--ski, who had
+formerly been a professor of mathematics, an excellent fellow, highly
+eccentric, and of very narrow mental horizon in spite of his learning.
+M--tski and B--ski were of a mould quite different from his. Between
+M--tski and myself there was an excellent understanding from the first
+set-off. He and I never once got into any sort of dispute; I respected
+him highly, but could never become sincerely attached to him, though I
+tried to. He was sour, embittered, and mistrustful, with much
+self-control; this was quite antipathetic to me; the man had a closed
+soul, closed to everybody, and he made you feel it. I felt it so
+strongly that perhaps I was wrong about it. After all, his character, I
+must say, was stamped with both nobleness and strength. His inveterate
+scepticism made him very prudent in his relations with everybody about
+him, and in conducting these he gave proof of remarkable tact and skill.
+Sceptic as he was, there was another and a reverse side in his nature,
+for in some things he was a profound and unalterable believer with faith
+and hope unshakable. In spite of his tact in dealing with men, he got
+into open hostilities with B--ski and his friend T--ski.
+
+The first of these, B--ski, was a man of infirm health, of consumptive
+tendency, irascible, and of a weak, nervous system; but a good and
+generous man. His nervous irritability went so far that he was as
+capricious as a child; a temperament of that kind was too much for me
+there, so I soon saw as little of B--ski as I could possibly help,
+though I never ceased to like him much. It was just the other way so far
+as M--tski was concerned; with him I always was on easy terms, though I
+did not like him at all. When I edged away from B--ski, I had to break
+also, more or less, with T--ski, of whom I spoke in the last chapter,
+which I much regretted, for, though of little education, he had an
+excellent heart; a worthy, very spiritual man. He loved and respected
+B--ski so much that those who broke with that friend of his he regarded
+as his personal enemies. He quarrelled with M--tski on account of
+B--ski, and they kept up the difference a long while. All these people
+were as bilious as they could be, humoursome, mistrustful, the victims
+of a moral and physical supersensitiveness. It is not to be wondered at;
+their position was trying indeed, much more so than ours; they were all
+exiled, transported, for ten or twelve years; and what made their
+sojourn in the prison most distressing to them was their rooted,
+ingrained prejudice, especially their unfortunate way of regarding the
+convicts, which they could not get over; in their eyes the unhappy
+fellows were mere wild beasts, without a single recognisable human
+quality. Everything in their previous career and their present
+circumstances combined to produce this unhappy feeling in them.
+
+Their life at the jail was perpetual torment to them. They were kindly
+and conversible with the Circassians, with the Tartars, with Isaiah
+Fomitch; but for the other prisoners they had nothing but contempt and
+aversion. The only one they had any real respect for was the aged "old
+believer." For all this, during all the time I spent at the convict
+establishment, I never knew a single prisoner to reproach them with
+either their birth, or religious opinions, or convictions, as is so
+usual with our common people in their relations with people of different
+condition, especially if these happen to be foreigners. The fact is,
+they cannot take the foreigner seriously; to the Russian common people
+he seems a merely grotesque, comical creature. Our convicts had and
+showed much more respect for the Polish nobles than for us Russians, but
+I don't think the Poles cared about the matter, or took any notice of
+the difference.
+
+I spoke just now of T--ski, and have something more to say of him. When
+he had with his friend to leave the first place assigned to them as
+residence in their banishment to come to our fortress, he carried his
+friend B---- nearly the whole way. B---- was of quite a weak frame, and
+in bad health, and became exhausted before half of the first march was
+accomplished. They had first been banished to Y--gorsk, where they lived
+in tolerable comfort; life was much less hard there than in our
+fortress. But in consequence of a correspondence with the exiles in one
+of the other towns--a quite innocent exchange of letters--it was thought
+necessary to remove them to our jail to be under the more direct
+surveillance of the government. Until they came M--tski had been quite
+alone, and dreadful must have been his sufferings in that first year of
+his banishment.
+
+J--ski was the old man always deep in prayer, of whom I spoke a little
+earlier. All the political convicts were quite young men while J--ski
+was at least fifty years old. He was a worthy, gentlemanlike person, if
+eccentric. T--ski and B--ski detested him, and never spoke to him; they
+insisted upon it that he was too obstinate and troublesome to put up
+with, and I was obliged to admit it was so. I believe that at a convict
+establishment--as in every place where people have to be together,
+whether they like it or not--people are more ready to quarrel with and
+detest one another than under other circumstances. Many causes
+contributed to the squabbles that were, unfortunately, always going on.
+J--ski was really disagreeable and narrow-minded; not one of those about
+him was on good terms with him. He and I did not come to a rupture, but
+we were never on a really friendly footing. I fancy that he was a strong
+mathematician. One day he explained to me in his half-Russian,
+half-Polish jargon, a system of astronomy of his own; I have been told
+that he had written a work upon the subject which the learned world had
+received with derision; I fancy his reasonings on some things had got
+twisted. He used to be on his knees praying for a whole day sometimes,
+which made the convicts respect him exceedingly during the remnant of
+life he had to pass there; he died under my eyes at the jail after a
+very trying illness. He had won the consideration of the prisoners, from
+the first moment of his coming in, on account of what had happened with
+the Major and him. When they were brought afoot from Y--gorsk to our
+fortress, they were not shaved on the road at all, their hair and beards
+had grown to great lengths when they were brought before the Major. That
+worthy foamed like a madman; he was wild with indignation at such
+infraction of discipline, though it was none of their fault.
+
+"My God! did you ever see anything like it?" he roared; "they are
+vagabonds, brigands."
+
+J--ski knew very little Russian, and fancied that he was asking them if
+they were brigands or vagabonds, so he answered:
+
+"We are political prisoners, not rogues and vagabonds."
+
+"So-o-o! You mean impudence! Clod!" howled the Major. "To the
+guard-house with him; a hundred strokes of the rod at once, this
+instant, I say!"
+
+They gave the old man the punishment; he lay flat on the ground under
+the strokes without the slightest resistance, kept his hand in his
+teeth, and bore it all without a murmur, and without moving a muscle.
+B--ski and T--ski arrived at the jail as this was all going on, and
+M--ski was waiting for them at the principal gate, knowing that they
+were just coming in; he threw himself on their neck, although he had
+never seen them before. Utterly disgusted at the way the Major had
+received them, they told M--ski all about the cruel business that had
+just occurred. M--ski told me later that he was quite beside himself
+with rage when he heard it.
+
+"I could not contain myself for passion," he said, "I shook as though
+with ague. I waited for J--ski at the great gate, for he would come
+straight that way from the guard-house after his punishment. The gate
+was opened, and there I saw pass before me J--ski, his lips all white
+and trembling, his face pale as death; he did not look at a single
+person, and passed through the groups of convicts assembled in the
+court-yard--they knew a noble had just been subjected to
+punishment--went into the barrack, went straight to his place, and,
+without a word, dropped down on his knees for prayer. The prisoners were
+surprised and even affected. When I saw this old man with white hairs,
+who had left behind him at home a wife and children, kneeling and
+praying after that scandalous treatment, I rushed away from the barrack,
+and for a couple of hours felt as if I had gone stark, staring, raving
+mad, or blind drunk.... From that first moment the convicts were full of
+deference and consideration for J--ski; what particularly pleased them,
+was that he did not utter a cry when undergoing the punishment."
+
+But one must be fair and tell the truth about this sort of thing; this
+sad story is not an instance of what frequently occurs in the treatment
+by the authorities of transported noblemen, Russian or Polish; and this
+isolated case affords no basis for passing judgment upon that treatment.
+My anecdote merely shows that you may light upon a bad man anywhere and
+everywhere. And if it happen that such a one is in absolute command of a
+jail, and if he happen to have a grudge against one of the prisoners,
+the lot of such a one will be indeed very far from enviable. But the
+administrative chiefs who regulate and supervise convict labour in
+Siberia, and from whom subordinates take their tone as well as their
+orders, are careful to exercise a discriminating treatment in the case
+of persons of noble birth, and, in some cases, grant them special
+indulgences as compared with the lot of convicts of lower condition.
+There are obvious reasons for this; these heads of departments are
+nobles themselves, they know that men of that class must not be driven
+to extremity; cases have been known where nobles have refused to submit
+to corporal punishment, and flung themselves desperately on their
+tormentors with very grave and serious consequences indeed;
+moreover--and this, I think, is the leading cause of the good
+treatment--some time ago, thirty-five years at least, there were
+transported to Siberia quite a crowd of noblemen;[9] these were of such
+correct and irreproachable demeanour, and held themselves so high, that
+the heads of departments fell into the way, which they never afterwards
+left, of regarding criminals of noble birth and ordinary convicts in
+quite a different manner; and men in lower place took their cue from
+them.
+
+Many of these, no doubt, were little pleased with that disposition in
+their superiors; such persons were pleased enough when they could do
+exactly as they liked in the matter, but this did not often happen, they
+were kept well within bounds; I have reason to be satisfied of this and
+I will say why. I was put in the second category, a classification of
+those condemned to hard labour, which was primarily and principally
+composed of convicts who had been serfs, under military superintendence;
+now this second category, or class, was much harder than the first (of
+the mines) or the third (manufacturing work). It was harder, not only
+for the nobles but for the other convicts too, because the governing and
+administrative methods and _personnel_ in it were wholly military, and
+were pretty much the same in type as those of the convict establishments
+in Russia. The men in official position were severer, the general
+treatment more rigorous than in the two other classes; the men were
+never out of irons, an escort of soldiers was always present, you were
+always, or nearly so, within stone walls; and things were quite
+different in the other classes, at least so the convicts said, and there
+were those among them who had every reason to know. They would all have
+gladly gone off to the mines, which the law classified as the worst and
+last punishment, it was their constant dream and desire to do so. All
+those who had been in the Russian convict establishments spoke with
+horror of them, and declared that there was no hell like them, that
+Siberia was a paradise compared with confinement in the fortresses in
+Russia.
+
+If, then, it is the case that we nobles were treated with special
+consideration in the establishment I was confined in, which was under
+direct control of the Governor-General, and administered entirely on
+military principles, there must have been some greater kindliness in the
+treatment of the convicts of the first and third category or class. I
+think I can speak with some authority about what went on throughout
+Siberia in these respects, and I based my views, as to this, upon all
+that I heard from convicts of these classes. We, in our prison, were
+under much more rigorous surveillance than was elsewhere practised; we
+were favoured with no sort of exemptions from the ordinary rules as
+regards work and confinement, and the wearing of chains; we could not do
+anything for ourselves to get immunity from the rules, for I, at least,
+knew quite well that, _in the good old time which was quite of
+yesterday_, there had been so much intriguing to undermine the credit of
+officials that the authorities were greatly afraid of informers, and
+that, as things stood, to show indulgence to a convict was regarded as a
+crime. Everybody, therefore, authorities and convicts alike, was in fear
+of what might happen; we of the nobles were thus quite down to the level
+of the other convicts; the only point we were favoured in was in regard
+to corporal punishment--but I think that we should have had even that
+inflicted on us had we done anything for which it was prescribed, for
+equality as to punishment was strictly enjoined or practised; what I
+mean is, that we were not wantonly, causelessly, mishandled like the
+other prisoners.
+
+When the Governor got to know of the punishment inflicted on J--ski, he
+was seriously angry with the Major, and ordered him to be more careful
+for the future. The thing got very generally known. We learned also that
+the Governor-General, who had great confidence in our Major, and who
+liked him because of his exact observance of legal bounds, and thought
+highly of his qualities in the service, gave him a sharp scolding. And
+our Major took the lesson to heart. I have no doubt it was this
+prevented his having M--ski beaten, which he would much have liked to
+do, being much influenced by the slanderous things A--f said about
+M----; but the Major could never get a fair pretext for doing so,
+however much he persecuted and set spies upon his proposed victim; so he
+had to deny himself that pleasure. The J--ski affair became known all
+through the town, and public opinion condemned the Major; some persons
+reproached him openly for what he had done, and some even insulted him.
+
+The first occasion on which the man crossed my path may as well be
+mentioned. We had alarming things reported to us--to me and another
+nobleman under sentence--about the abominable character of this man,
+while we were still at Tobolsk. Men who had been sentenced a long while
+back to twenty-five years of the misery, nobles as we were, and who had
+visited us so kindly during our provisional sojourn in the first
+prison, had warned us what sort of man we were to be under; they had
+also promised to do all they could for us with their friends to see that
+he hurt us as little as possible. And, in fact, they did write to the
+three daughters of the Governor-General, who, I believe, interceded on
+our behalf with their father. But what could he do? No more, of course,
+than tell the Major to be fair in applying the rules and regulations to
+our case. It was about three in the afternoon that my companion and
+myself arrived in the town; our escort took us at once to our tyrant. We
+remained waiting for him in the ante-chamber while they went to find the
+next-in-command at the prison. As soon as the latter had come, in walked
+the Major. We saw an inflamed scarlet face that boded no good, and
+affected us quite painfully; he seemed like a sort of spider about to
+throw itself on a poor fly wriggling in its web.
+
+"What's your name, man?" said he to my companion. He spoke with a harsh,
+jerky voice, as if he wanted to overawe us.
+
+My friend gave his name.
+
+"And you?" said he, turning to me and glaring at me behind his
+spectacles.
+
+I gave mine.
+
+"Sergeant! take 'em to the prison, and let 'em be shaved at the
+guard-house, civilian-fashion, hair off half their skulls, and let 'em
+be put in irons to-morrow. Why, what sort of cloaks have you got there?"
+said he brutally, when he saw the gray cloaks with yellow sewn at the
+back which they had given to us at Tobolsk. "Why, that's a new uniform,
+begad--a new uniform! They're always getting up something or other.
+That's a Petersburg trick," he said, as he inspected us one after the
+other. "Got anything with them?" he said abruptly to the gendarme who
+escorted us.
+
+"They've got their own clothes, your worship," replied he; and the man
+carried arms, just as if on parade, not without a nervous tremor.
+Everybody knew the fellow, and was afraid of him.
+
+"Take their clothes away from them. They can't keep anything but their
+linen, their white things; take away all their coloured things if
+they've got any, and sell them off at the next sale, and put the money
+to the prison account. A convict has no property," said he, looking
+severely at us. "Hark ye! Behave prettily; don't let me have any
+complaining. If I do--cat-o'-nine-tails! The smallest offence, and to
+the sticks you go!"
+
+This way of receiving me, so different from anything I had ever known,
+made me nearly ill that night. It was a frightful thing to happen at the
+very moment of entering the infernal place. But I have already told that
+part of my story.
+
+Thus we had no sort of exemption or immunity from any of the miseries
+inflicted there, no lightening of our labours when with the other
+convicts; but friends tried to help us by getting us sent for three
+months, B--ski and me, to the bureau of the Engineers, to do copying
+work. This was done quietly, and as much as possible kept from being
+talked about or observed. This piece of kindness was done for us by the
+head engineers, during the short time that Lieutenant-Colonel G--kof was
+Governor at our prison. This gentleman had command there only for six
+short months, for he soon went back to Russia. He really seemed to us
+all like an angel of goodness sent from heaven, and the feeling for him
+among the convicts was of the strongest kind; it was not mere love, it
+was something like adoration. I cannot help saying so. How he did it I
+don't know, but their hearts went out to him from the moment they first
+set eyes on him.
+
+"He's more like a father than anything else," the prisoners kept
+continually saying during all the time he was there at the head of the
+engineering department. He was a brilliant, joyous fellow. He was of low
+stature, with a bold, confident expression, and he was all gracious
+kindness to the convicts, for whom he really did seem to entertain a
+fatherly sort of affection. How was it he was so fond of them? It is
+hard to say, but he seemed never to be able to pass a prisoner without a
+bit of pleasant talk and a little laughing and joking together. There
+was nothing that smacked of authority in his pleasantries, nothing that
+reminded them of his position over them. He behaved just as if he was
+one of themselves. In spite of this kind condescension, I don't remember
+any one of the convicts ever failing in respect to him or taking the
+slightest liberty--quite the other way. The convict's face would light
+up in a wonderful, sudden way when he met the Governor; it was odd to
+see how the face smiled all over, and the hand went to the cap, when the
+Governor was seen in the distance making for the poor man. A word from
+him was regarded as a signal honour. There are some people like that,
+who know how to win all hearts.
+
+G--kof had a bold, jaunty air, walked with long strides, holding himself
+very straight; "a regular eagle," the convicts used to call him. He
+could not do much to lighten their lot materially, for his office was
+that of superintending the engineering work, which had to be done in
+ways and quantities, settled absolutely and unalterably by the
+regulations. But if he happened to come across a gang of convicts who
+had actually got through their work, he allowed them to go back to
+quarters before beat of drum, without waiting for the regulation moment.
+The prisoners loved him for the confidence he showed in them, and
+because of his aversion for all mean, trifling interferences with them,
+which are so irritating when prison superiors are addicted to that sort
+of thing. I am absolutely certain that if he had lost a thousand roubles
+in notes, there was not a thief in the prison, however hardened, who
+would not have brought them to him, if the man lit on them. I am sure of
+it.
+
+How the prisoners all felt for him, and with him when they learned that
+he was at daggers drawn with our detested Major. That came about a
+month after his arrival. Their delight knew no bounds. The Major had
+formerly served with him in the same detachment; so, when they met,
+after a long separation, they were at first boon companions, but the
+intimacy could not and did not last. They came to
+blows--figuratively--and G--kof became the Major's sworn enemy. Some
+would have it that it was _more_ than figuratively, that they came to
+actual fisticuffs, a likely thing enough as far as the Major was
+concerned, for the man had no objection to a scrimmage.
+
+When the convicts heard of the quarrel they really could not contain
+their delight.
+
+"Old Eight-eyes and the Commandant get on finely together! _He's_ an
+eagle; but the other's a _bad 'un_!"
+
+Those who believed in the fight were mighty curious to know which of the
+two had had the worst of it, and got a good drubbing. If it had been
+proved there had been no fighting our convicts, I think, would have been
+bitterly disappointed.
+
+"The Commandant gave him fits, you may bet your life on it," said they;
+"he's a little 'un, but as bold as a lion; the other one got into a blue
+funk, and hid under the bed from him."
+
+But G--kof went away only too soon, and keenly was he regretted in the
+prison.
+
+Our engineers were all most excellent fellows; we had three or four
+fresh batches of them while I was there.
+
+"Our eagles never remain very long with us," said the prisoners;
+"especially when they are good and kind fellows."
+
+It was this G--kof who sent B--ski and myself to work in his bureau, for
+he was partial to exiled nobles. When he left, our condition was still
+fairly endurable, for there was another engineer there who showed us
+much sympathy and friendship. We copied reports for some time, and our
+handwriting was getting to be very good, when an order came from the
+authorities that we were to be sent back to hard labour as before; some
+spiteful person had been at work. At bottom we were rather pleased, for
+we were quite tired of copying.
+
+For two whole years I worked in company with B--ski, all the time in the
+shops, and many a gossip did we have about our hopes for the future and
+our notions and convictions. Good B--ski had a very odd mind, which
+worked in a strange, exceptional way. There are some people of great
+intelligence who indulge in paradox unconscionably; but when they have
+undergone great and constant sufferings for their ideas and made great
+sacrifices for them, you can't drive their notions out of their heads,
+and it is cruel to try it. When you objected something to B--ski's
+propositions, he was really hurt, and gave you a violent answer. He was,
+perhaps, more in the right than I was as to some things wherein we
+differed, but we were obliged to give one another up, very much to my
+regret, for we had many thoughts in common.
+
+As years went on M--tski became more and more sombre and melancholy; he
+became a prey to despair. During the earliest part of my imprisonment he
+was communicative enough, and let us see what was going on in him. When
+I arrived at the prison he had just finished his second year. At first
+he took a lively interest in the news I brought, for he knew nothing of
+what had been going on in the outer world; he put questions to me,
+listened eagerly, showed emotion, but, bit by bit, his reserve grew on
+him and there was no getting at his thoughts. The glowing coals were all
+covered up with ashes. Yet it was plain that his temper grew sourer and
+sourer. "_Je hais ces brigands_,"[10] he would say, speaking of convicts
+I had got to know something of; I never could make him see any good in
+them. He really did not seem to fully enter into the meaning of anything
+I said on their behalf, though he would sometimes seem to agree in a
+listless sort of way. Next day it was just as before: "_je hais ces
+brigands_." (We used often to speak French with him; so one of the
+overseers of the works, the soldier, Dranichnikof, used always to call
+us _aides chirurgiens_, God knows why!) M--tski never seemed to shake
+off his usual apathy except when he spoke of his mother.
+
+"She is old and infirm," he said; "she loves me better than anything in
+the world, and I don't even know if she's still living. If she learns
+that I've been whipped----"
+
+M--tski was not a noble, and had been whipped before he was transported.
+When the recollection of this came up in his mind he gnashed his teeth,
+and could not look anybody in the face. In the latest days of his
+imprisonment he used to walk to and fro, quite alone for the most part.
+One day, at noon, he was summoned to the Governor, who received him with
+a smile on his lips.
+
+"Well, M--tski, what were your dreams last night?" asked the Governor.
+
+Said M--tski to me later, "When he said that to me a shudder ran through
+me; I felt struck at the heart."
+
+His answer was, "I dreamed that I had a letter from my mother."
+
+"Better than that, better!" replied the Governor. "You are free; your
+mother has petitioned the Emperor, and he has granted her prayer. Here,
+here's her letter, and the order for your dismissal. You are to leave
+the jail without delay."
+
+He came to us pale, scarcely able to believe in his good fortune.
+
+We congratulated him. He pressed our hands with his own, which were
+quite cold, and trembled violently. Many of the convicts wished him joy;
+they were really glad to see his happiness.
+
+He settled in Siberia, establishing himself in our town, where a little
+after that they gave him a place. He used often to come to the jail to
+bring us news, and tell us all that was going on, as often as he could
+talk with us. It was political news that interested him chiefly.
+
+Besides the four Poles, the political convicts of whom I spoke just now,
+there were two others of that nation, who were sentenced for very short
+periods; they had not much education, but were good, simple,
+straightforward fellows. There was another, A--tchoukooski, quite a
+colourless person; one more I must mention, B--in, a man well on in
+years, who impressed us all very unfavourably indeed. I don't know what
+he had been sentenced for, although he used to tell us some story or
+other about it pretty frequently. He was a person of a vulgar, mean
+type, with the coarse manner of an enriched shopkeeper. He was quite
+without education, and seemed to take interest in nothing except what
+concerned his trade, which was that of a painter, a sort of
+scene-painter he was; he showed a good deal of talent in his work, and
+the authorities of the prison soon came to know about his abilities, so
+he got employment all through the town in decorating walls and ceilings.
+In two years he beautified the rooms of nearly all the prison officials,
+who remunerated him handsomely, so he lived pretty comfortably. He was
+sent to work with three other prisoners, two of whom learned the
+business thoroughly; one of these, T--jwoski, painted nearly as well as
+B--in himself. Our Major, who had rooms in one of the government
+buildings, sent for B--in, and gave him a commission to decorate the
+walls and ceilings there, which he did so effectively, that the suite of
+rooms of the Governor-General were quite put out of countenance by those
+of the Major. The house itself was a ramshackle old place, while the
+interior, thanks to B--in, was as gay as a palace. Our worthy Major was
+hugely delighted, went about rubbing his hands, and told everybody that
+he should look out for a wife at once, "a fellow _can't_ remain single
+when he lives in a place like that;" he was quite serious about it. The
+Major's satisfaction with B--in and his assistants went on increasing.
+They occupied a month in the work at the Major's house. During those
+memorable days the Major seemed to get into a different frame of mind
+about us, and began to be quite kind to us political prisoners. One day
+he sent for J--ski.
+
+"J--ski," said he, "I've done you wrong; I had you beaten for nothing.
+I'm very sorry. Do you understand? I'm very sorry. I, Major ----"
+
+J--ski answered that he understood perfectly.
+
+"Do you understand? I, who am set over you, I have sent for you to ask
+your pardon. You can hardly realise it, I suppose. What are you to me,
+fellow? A worm, less than a crawling worm; you're a convict, while I, by
+God's grace,[11] am a Major; Major ----, _do_ you understand?"
+
+J--ski answered that he quite well understood it all.
+
+"Well, I want to be friends with you. But can you appreciate what I'm
+doing? Can you feel the greatness of soul I'm showing--feel and
+appreciate it? Just think of it; I, I, the Major!" etc. etc.
+
+J--ski told me of this scene. There was, then, some human feeling left
+in this drunken, unruly, and tormenting brute. Allowing for the man's
+notions of things, and feeble faculties, one cannot deny that this was a
+generous proceeding on his part. Perhaps he was a little less drunk than
+usual, perhaps more; who can tell?
+
+The Major's glorious idea of marrying came to nothing; the rooms got all
+their bravery, but the wife was not forthcoming. Instead of going to the
+altar in that agreeable way, he was pulled up before the authorities and
+sent to trial. He received orders to send in his resignation. Some of
+his old sins had found him out, it seems; things done when he had been
+superintendent of police in our town. This crushing blow came down upon
+him without notice, quite suddenly. All the convicts were greatly
+rejoiced when they heard the great news; it was high day and holiday all
+through the jail. The story went abroad that the Major sobbed, and
+cried, and howled like an old woman. But he was helpless in the matter.
+He was obliged to leave his place, sell his two gray horses, and
+everything he had in the world; and he fell into complete destitution.
+We came across him occasionally afterwards in civilian, threadbare
+clothes, and wearing a cap with a cockade; he glanced at us convicts as
+spitefully and maliciously as you please. But without his Major's
+uniform, all the man's glory was gone. While placed over us, he gave
+himself the airs of a being higher than human, who had got into coat and
+breeches; now it was all over, he looked like the lackey he was, and a
+disgraced lackey to boot.
+
+With fellows of this sort, the uniform is the only saving grace; that
+gone, all's gone.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[9] The Decembrists.
+
+[10] French in the original Russian.
+
+[11] Our Major was not the only officer who spoke of himself in that
+lofty way; a good many officers did the same, men who had risen from the
+ranks chiefly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE ESCAPE
+
+
+A little while after the Major resigned, our prison was subjected to a
+thorough reorganization. The "hard labour" hitherto inflicted, and the
+other regulations, were abolished, and the place put upon the footing of
+the military convict establishments of Russia. As a result of this,
+prisoners of the second category were no longer sent there; this class
+was, for the future, to be composed of prisoners who were regarded as
+still on the military footing, that is to say, men who, in spite of
+sentence, did not forfeit for ever their civic _status_. They were
+soldiers still, but had undergone corporal punishment; they were
+sentenced for comparatively short periods, six years at most; when they
+had served their time, or in case of pardon, they went into the ranks
+again, as before. Men guilty of a second offence were sentenced to
+twenty years of imprisonment. Up to the time I speak of, we had a
+section of soldier-prisoners among us, but only because they did not
+know where else to dispose of them. Now the place was to be occupied by
+soldiers exclusively. As to the civilian convicts, who were stripped of
+all civic rights, branded, cropped, and shaven, these were to remain in
+the fortress to finish their time; but as no fresh prisoners of this
+class were to come in, and those there would get their discharge
+successively, at the end of ten years there would be no civilian
+convicts left in the place, according to the arrangements. The line of
+division between the classes of prisoners there was maintained; from
+time to time there came in other military criminals of high position,
+sent to our place for security, before being forwarded to Eastern
+Siberia, for the more aggravated penalties that awaited them there.
+
+There was no change in our general way of life. The work we had to do
+and the discipline observed were the same as before; but the
+administrative system was entirely altered, and made more complex. An
+officer, commandant of companies, was assigned to be at the head of the
+prison; he had under his orders four subaltern officers who mounted
+guard by turns. The "invalids" were superseded by twelve
+non-commissioned officers, and an arsenal superintendent. The convicts
+were divided into sections of ten, and corporals chosen among them; the
+power of these over the others was, as may be supposed, nominal. As
+might be expected, Akim Akimitch got this promotion.
+
+All these new arrangements were confided to the Governor to carry out,
+who remained in superior command over the whole establishment. The
+changes did not go further than this. At first the convicts were not a
+little excited by this movement, and discussed their new guardians a
+good deal among themselves, trying to make out what sort of fellows they
+were; but when they saw that everything went on pretty much as usual
+they quieted down, and things resumed their ordinary course. We had got
+rid of the Major, and that was something; everybody took fresh breath
+and fresh courage. The fear that was in all hearts grew less; we had
+some assurance that in case of need we could go to our superiors and
+lodge our complaint, and that a man could not be punished without cause,
+and would not, unless by mistake.
+
+Brandy was brought in as before, although we had subaltern officers now
+where "invalids" were before. These subalterns were all worthy, careful
+men, who knew their place and business. There were some among them who
+had the idea that they might give themselves grand airs, and treat us
+like common soldiers, but they soon gave it up and behaved like the
+others. Those who did not seem to be well able to get into their heads
+what the ways of our prison really were, had sharp lessons about it from
+the convicts themselves, which led to some lively scenes. One
+sub-officer was confronted with brandy, which was of course too much for
+him; when he was sober again we had a little explanation with him; we
+pointed out that he had been drinking with the prisoners, and that,
+accordingly, etc. etc.; he became quite tractable. The end of it was
+that the subalterns closed their eyes to the brandy business. They went
+to market for us, just as the invalids used to, and brought the
+prisoners white bread, meat, anything that could be got in without too
+much risk. So I never could understand why they had gone to the trouble
+of turning the place into a military prison. The change was made two
+years before I left the place; I had two years to bear of it still.
+
+I see little use in recording all I saw and went through later at the
+convict establishment day by day. If I were to tell it all, all the
+daily and hourly occurrences, I might write twice or thrice as many
+chapters as this book ought to contain, but I should simply tire the
+reader and myself. Substantially all that I might write has been already
+embodied in the narrative as it stands so far; and the reader has had
+the opportunity of getting a tolerable idea of what the life of a
+convict of the second class really was. My wish has been to portray the
+state of things at the establishment, and as it affected myself,
+accurately and yet forcibly; whether I have done so others must judge. I
+cannot pronounce upon my own work, but I think I may well draw it to a
+close; as I move among these recollections of a dreadful past, the old
+suffering comes up again and all but strangles me.
+
+Besides, I cannot be sure of my memory as to all I saw in these last
+years, for the faculty seems blunted as regards the later compared with
+the earlier period of my imprisonment, there is a good deal I am sure I
+have quite forgotten. But I remember only too well how very, very slow
+these last two years were, how very sad, how the days seemed as if they
+never would come to evening, something like water falling drop by drop.
+I remember, too, that I was filled with a mighty longing for my
+resurrection from that grave which gave me strength to bear up, to wait,
+and to hope. And so I got to be hardened and enduring; I lived on
+expectation, I counted every passing day; if there were a thousand more
+of them to pass at the prison I found satisfaction in thinking that one
+of them was gone, and only nine hundred and ninety-nine to come. I
+remember, too, that though I had round me a hundred persons in like
+case, I felt myself more and more solitary, and though the solitude was
+awful I came to love it. Isolated thus among the convict-crowd I went
+over all my earlier life, analysing its events and thoughts minutely; I
+passed my former doings in review, and sometimes was pitiless in
+condemnation of myself; sometimes I went so far as to be grateful to
+fate for the privilege of such loneliness, for only that could have
+caused me so severely to scrutinise my past, so searchingly to examine
+its inner and outer life. What strong and strange new germs of hope came
+in those memorable hours up in my soul! I weighed and decided all sorts
+of issues, I entered into a compact with myself to avoid the errors of
+former years, and the rocks on which I had been wrecked; I laid down a
+programme for my future, and vowed that I would stick to it; I had a
+sort of blind and complete conviction that, once away from that place, I
+should be able to carry out everything I made my mind up to; I looked
+for my freedom with transports of eager desire; I wanted to try my
+strength in a renewed struggle with life; sometimes I was clutched, as
+by fangs, by an impatience which rose to fever heat. It is painful to go
+back to these things, most painful; nobody, I know, can care much about
+it at all except myself; but I write because I think people will
+understand, and because there are those who have been, those who yet
+will be, like myself, condemned, imprisoned, cut off from life, in the
+flower of their age, and in the full possession of all their strength.
+
+But all this is useless. Let me end my memoirs with a narrative of
+something interesting, for I must not close them too abruptly.
+
+What shall it be? Well, it may occur to some to ask whether it was quite
+impossible to escape from the jail, and if during the time I spent there
+no attempt of the kind was made. I have already said that a prisoner who
+has got through two or three years thinks a good deal of it, and, as a
+rule, concludes that it is best to finish his time without running more
+risks, so that he may get his settlement, on the land or otherwise, when
+set at liberty. But those who reckon in this way are convicts sentenced
+for comparatively short times; those who have many years to serve are
+always ready to run some chances. For all that the attempts at escape
+were quite infrequent. Whether that was attributable to the want of
+spirit in the convicts, the severity of the military discipline
+enforced, or, after all, to the situation of the town, little favourable
+to escapes, for it was in the midst of the open steppe, I really cannot
+say. All these motives no doubt contributed to give pause. It was
+difficult enough to get out of the prison at all; in my time two
+convicts tried it; they were criminals of importance.
+
+When our Major had been got rid of, A--v, the spy, was quite alone with
+nobody to back him up. He was still quite young, but his character grew
+in force with every year; he was a bold, self-asserting fellow, of
+considerable intelligence. I think if they had set him at liberty he
+would have gone on spying and getting money in every sort of shameful
+way, but I don't think he would have let himself be caught again; he
+would have turned his experiences as a convict to far too much good for
+that. One trick he practised was that of forging passports, at least so
+I heard from some of the convicts. I think this fellow was ready to risk
+everything for a change in his position. Circumstances gave me the
+opportunity of getting to the bottom of this man's disposition and
+seeing how ugly it was; he was simply revolting in his cold, deep
+wickedness, and my disgust with him was more than I could get over. I do
+believe that if he wanted a drink of brandy, and could only have got it
+by killing some one, he would not have hesitated one moment if it was
+pretty certain the crime would not come out. He had learned there, in
+that jail, to look on everything in the coolest calculating way. It was
+on him that the choice of Koulikoff--of the special section--fell, as we
+are to see.
+
+I have spoken before of Koulikoff. He was no longer young, but full of
+ardour, life, and vigour, and endowed with extraordinary faculties. He
+felt his strength, and wanted still to have a life of his own; there are
+some men who long to live in a rich, abounding life, even when old age
+has got hold of them. I should have been a good deal surprised if
+Koulikoff had _not_ tried to escape; but he did. Which of the two,
+Koulikoff and A--v, had the greater influence over the other I really
+cannot say; they were a goodly couple, and suited each other to a hair,
+so they soon became as thick as possible. I fancy that Koulikoff
+reckoned on A--v to forge a passport for him; besides, the latter was of
+the noble class, belonged to good society, a circumstance out of which a
+good deal could be made if they managed to get back into Russia. Heaven
+only knows what compacts they made, or what plans and hopes they formed;
+if they got as far as Russia they would at all events leave behind them
+Siberia and vagabondage. Koulikoff was a versatile man, capable of
+playing many a part on the stage of life, and had plenty of ability to
+go upon, whatever direction his efforts took. To such persons the jail
+is strangulation and suffocation. So the two set about plotting their
+escape.
+
+But to get away without a soldier to act as escort was impossible; so a
+soldier had to be won. In one of the battalions stationed at our
+fortress was a Pole of middle life--an energetic fellow worthy of a
+better fate--serious, courageous. When he arrived first in Siberia,
+quite young, he had deserted, for he could not stand his sufferings from
+nostalgia. He was captured and whipped. During two years he formed part
+of the disciplinary companies to which offenders are sent; then he
+rejoined his battalion, and, showing himself zealous in the service, had
+been rewarded by promotion to the rank of corporal. He had a good deal
+of self-love, and spoke like a man who had no small conceit of himself.
+
+I took particular notice of the man sometimes when he was among the
+soldiers who had charge of us, for the Poles had spoken to me about him;
+and I got the idea that his longing for his native country had taken the
+form of a chill, fixed, deadly hatred for those who kept him away from
+it. He was the sort of man to stick at nothing, and Koulikoff showed
+that his scent was good, when he pitched on this man to be an accomplice
+in his flight. This corporal's name was Kohler. Koulikoff and he settled
+their plans and fixed the day. It was the month of June, the hottest of
+the year. The climate of our town and neighbourhood was pretty equable,
+especially in summer, which is a very good thing for tramps and
+vagabonds. To make off far after leaving the fortress was quite out of
+the question, it being situated on rising ground and in uncovered
+country, for though surrounded by woods, these are a considerable
+distance away. A disguise was indispensable, and to procure it they must
+manage to get into the outskirts of the town, where Koulikoff had taken
+care some time before to prepare a den of some sort. I don't know
+whether his worthy friends in that part of the town were in the secret.
+It may be presumed they were, though there is no evidence. That year,
+however, a young woman who led a gay life and was very pretty, settled
+down in a nook of that same part of the city, near the county. This
+young person attracted a good deal of notice, and her career promised to
+be something quite remarkable; her nickname was "Fire and Flame." I
+think that she and the fugitives concerted the plans of escape together,
+for Koulikoff had lavished a good deal of attention and money on her for
+more than a year. When the gangs were formed each morning, the two
+fellows, Koulikoff and A--v, managed to get themselves sent out with the
+convict Chilkin, whose trade was that of stove-maker and plasterer, to
+do up the empty barracks when the soldiers went into camp. A--v and
+Koulikoff were to help in carrying the necessary materials. Kohler got
+himself put into the escort on the occasion; as the rules required three
+soldiers to act as escort for two prisoners, they gave him a young
+recruit whom he was doing corporal's duty upon, drilling and training
+him. Our fugitives must have exercised a great deal of influence over
+Kohler to deceive him, to cast his lot in with them, serious,
+intelligent, and reflective man as he was, with so few more years of
+service to pass in the army.
+
+They arrived at the barracks about six o'clock in the morning; there was
+nobody with them. After having worked about an hour, Koulikoff and A--v
+told Chilkin that they were going to the workshop to see some one, and
+fetch a tool they wanted. They had to go carefully to work with Chilkin,
+and speak in as natural a tone as they could. The man was from Moscow,
+by trade a stove-maker, sharp and cunning, keen-sighted, not talkative,
+fragile in appearance, with little flesh on his bones. He was the sort
+of person who might have been expected to pass his life in honest
+working dress, in some Moscow shop, yet here he was in the "special
+section," after many wanderings and transfers among the most formidable
+military criminals; so fate had ordered.
+
+What had he done to deserve such severe punishment? I had not the least
+idea; he never showed the least resentment or sour feeling, and went on
+in a quiet, inoffensive way; now and then he got as drunk as a lord;
+but, apart from that, his conduct was perfectly good. Of course he was
+not in the secret, so he had to be thrown off the scent. Koulikoff told
+him, with a wink, that they were going to get some brandy, which had
+been hidden the day before in the workshop, which suited Chilkin's book
+perfectly; he had not the least notion of what was up, and remained
+alone with the young recruit, while Koulikoff, A--v, and Kohler betook
+themselves to the suburbs of the town.
+
+Half-an-hour passed; the men did not come back. Chilkin began to think,
+and the truth dawned upon him. He remembered that Koulikoff had not
+seemed at all like himself, that he had seen him whispering and winking
+to A--v; he was sure of that, and the whole thing seemed suspicious to
+him. Kohler's behaviour had struck him, too; when he went off with the
+two convicts, the corporal had given the recruit orders what he was to
+do in his absence, which he had never known him do before. The more
+Chilkin thought over the matter the less he liked it. Time went on; the
+convicts did not return; his anxiety was great; for he saw that the
+authorities would suspect him of connivance with the fugitives, so that
+his own skin was in danger. If he made any delay in giving information
+of what had occurred, suspicion of himself would grow into conviction
+that he knew what the men intended when they left him, and he would be
+dealt with as their accomplice. There was no time to lose.
+
+It came into his mind, then, that Koulikoff and A--v had become
+markedly intimate for some time, and that they had been often seen
+laying their heads together behind the barracks, by themselves. He
+remembered, too, that he had more than once fancied that they were up to
+something together.
+
+He looked attentively at the soldier with him as escort; the fellow was
+yawning, leaning on his gun, and scratching his nose in the most
+innocent manner imaginable; so Chilkin did not think it necessary to
+speak of his anxieties to this man: he told him simply to come with him
+to the engineers' workshops. His object was to ask if anybody there had
+seen his companions; but nobody there had, so Chilkin's suspicions grew
+stronger and stronger. If only he could think that they had gone to get
+drunk and have a spree in the outskirts of the town, as Koulikoff often
+did. No, thought Chilkin, that was _not_ so. They would have told him,
+for there was no need to make a mystery of that. Chilkin left his work,
+and went straight back to the jail.
+
+It was about nine o'clock when he reached the sergeant-major, to whom he
+mentioned his suspicions. That officer was frightened, and at first
+could not believe there was anything in it all. Chilkin had, in fact,
+expressed no more than a vague misgiving that all was not as it should
+be. The sergeant-major ran to the Major, who in his turn ran to the
+Governor. In a quarter-of-an-hour all necessary measures were taken. The
+Governor-General was communicated with. As the convicts in question were
+persons of importance, it might be expected that the matter would be
+seriously viewed at St. Petersburg. A--v was classed among political
+prisoners, by a somewhat random official proceeding, it would seem;
+Koulikoff was a convict of the "special section," that is to say, as a
+criminal of the blackest dye, and, what was worse, was an ex-soldier. It
+was then brought to notice that according to the regulations each
+convict of the "special section" ought to have two soldiers assigned as
+escort when he went to work; the regulations had not been observed as
+to this, so that everybody was exposed to serious trouble. Expresses
+were sent off to all the district offices of the municipality, and all
+the little neighbouring towns, to warn the authorities of the escape of
+the two convicts, and a full description furnished of their persons.
+Cossacks were sent out to hunt them up, letters sent to the authorities
+of all adjoining Governmental districts. And everybody was frightened to
+death.
+
+The excitement was quite as great all through the prison; as the
+convicts returned from work, they heard the tremendous news, which
+spread rapidly from man to man; all received it with deep, though secret
+satisfaction. Their emotion was as natural as it was great. The affair
+broke the monotony of their lives, and gave them something to think of;
+but, above all, it was an escape, and as such, something to sympathise
+with deeply, and stirred fibres in the poor fellows which had long been
+without any exciting stimulus; something like hope and a disposition to
+confront their fate set their hearts beating, for the incident seemed to
+show that their hard lot was not hopelessly unchangeable.
+
+"Well, you see they've got off in spite of them! Why shouldn't we?"
+
+The thought came into every man's mind, and made him stiffen his back
+and look at his neighbours in a defiant sort of way. All the convicts
+seemed to grow an inch taller on the strength of it, and to look down a
+bit upon the sub-officers. The heads of the place soon came running up,
+as you may imagine. The Governor now arrived in person. We fellows
+looked at them all with some assurance, with a touch of contempt, and
+with a very set expression of face, as though to say: "Well, you there?
+We can get out of your clutches when we've a mind to."
+
+All the men were quite sure there would be a general searching of
+everything and everybody; so everything that was at all contraband was
+carefully hidden; for the authorities would want to show that precious
+wisdom of theirs which may be reckoned on after the event. The
+expectation was verified; there was a mighty turning of everything
+upside down and topsy-turvy, a general rummage, with the discovery of
+exactly nothing, as they might have known.
+
+When the time came for going out to work after dinner the usual escorts
+were doubled. When night came, the officers and sub-officers on service
+came pouncing on us at every moment to see if we were off our guard, and
+if anything could be got out of us; the lists were gone over once more
+than the usual number of times, which extra mustering only gave more
+trouble for nothing; we were hunted out of the court-yard that our names
+might be gone through again. Then, when in barrack, they reckoned us up
+another time, as if they never could be done with the exercise.
+
+The convicts were not at all disturbed by all this bustling absurdity.
+They put on a very unconcerned demeanour, and, as is always the case in
+such a conjuncture, behaved in the prettiest manner all that evening and
+night. "We won't give them any handle anyhow," was the general feeling.
+The question with the authorities was whether some among us were not in
+complicity with those who had got away, so a careful watch was kept over
+our doings, and a careful ear for our conversations; but nothing came of
+it.
+
+"Not such fools, those fellows, as to leave anybody behind who was in
+the secret!"
+
+"When you go at that sort of thing you lie low and play low!"
+
+"Koulikoff and A--v know enough to have covered up their tracks. They've
+done the trick in first-rate style, keeping things to themselves;
+they've mizzled, the rascals; clever chaps, those, they could get
+through shut doors!"
+
+The glory of Koulikoff and A--v had grown a hundred cubits higher than
+it was. Everybody was proud of them. Their exploit, it was felt, would
+be handed down to the most distant posterity, and outlive the jail
+itself.
+
+"Rattling fellows, those!" said one.
+
+"Can't get away from here, eh? _That's_ their notion, is it? Just look
+at those chaps!"
+
+"Yes," said a third, looking very superior, "but who _is_ it that has
+got away? Tip-top fellows. _You_ can't hold a candle to them."
+
+At any other time the man to whom anything of that sort was said would
+have replied angrily enough, and defended himself; now the observation
+was met with modest silence.
+
+"True enough," was said. "Everybody's not a Koulikoff or an A--v, you've
+got to show what you're made of before you've a right to speak."
+
+"I say, pals, after all, why do we remain in the place?" struck in a
+prisoner seated by the kitchen window; he spoke drawlingly, but the man,
+you could see, enjoyed it all; he slowly rubbed his cheek with the palm
+of his hand. "Why do we stop? It's no life at all, we've been buried,
+though we're alive and kicking. Now _isn't_ it so?"
+
+"Oh, curse it, you can't get out of prison as easy as shaking off an old
+boot. I tell you it sticks to your calves. What's the good of pulling a
+long face over it?"
+
+"But, look here; there is Koulikoff now," began one of the most eager, a
+mere lad.
+
+"Koulikoff!" exclaimed another, looking askance at the young fellow.
+"Koulikoff! They don't turn out Koulikoffs by the dozen."
+
+"And A--v, pals, there's a lad for you!"
+
+"Aye, aye, he'll get Koulikoff just where he wants him, as often as he
+wants him. He's up to everything, he is."
+
+"I wonder how far they've got; that's what _I_ want to know," said one.
+
+Then the talk went off into details: Had they got far from the town?
+What direction did they go off in? _Which_ gave them the best chance?
+Then they discussed distances, and as there were convicts who knew the
+neighbourhood well, these were attentively listened to.
+
+Next, they talked over the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, of
+whom they seemed to think as badly as possible. There was nobody in the
+neighbourhood, the convicts believed, who would hesitate at all as to
+the course to be pursued; nothing would induce them to help the
+runaways; quite the other way, these people would hunt them down.
+
+"If you only knew what bad fellows these peasants are! Rascally brutes!"
+
+"Peasants, indeed! Worthless scamps!"
+
+"These Siberians are as bad as bad can be. They think nothing of killing
+a man."
+
+"Oh, well, our fellows----"
+
+"Yes, that's it, they may come off second best. Our fellows are as
+plucky as plucky can be."
+
+"Well, if we live long enough, we shall hear something about them soon."
+
+"Well, now, what do you _think_? Do you think they really will get clean
+away?"
+
+"I am sure, as I live, that they'll never be caught," said one of the
+most excited, giving the table a great blow with his fist.
+
+"Hm! That's as things turn out."
+
+"I'll tell you what, friends," said Skouratof, "if I once got out, I'd
+stake my life they'd never get me again."
+
+"_You?_"
+
+Everybody burst out laughing. They would hardly condescend to listen to
+him; but Skouratof was not to be put down.
+
+"I tell you I'd stake my life on it!" with great energy. "Why, I made my
+mind up to _that_ long ago. I'd find means of going through a key-hole
+rather than let them lay hands on me."
+
+"Oh, don't you fear, when your belly got empty you'd just go creeping
+to a peasant and ask him for a morsel of something."
+
+Fresh laughter.
+
+"I ask him for victuals? You're a liar!"
+
+"Hold your jaw, can't you? We know what you were sent here for. You and
+your Uncle Vacia killed some peasant for bewitching your cattle."[12]
+
+More laughter. The more serious among them seemed very angry and
+indignant.
+
+"You're a liar," cried Skouratof; "it's Mikitka who told you that; I
+wasn't in that at all, it was Uncle Vacia; don't you mix my name up in
+it. I'm a Moscow man, and I've been on the tramp ever since I was a very
+small thing. Look here, when the priest taught me to read the liturgy,
+he used to pinch my ears, and say, 'Repeat this after me: Have pity on
+me, Lord, out of Thy great goodness;' and he used to make me say with
+him, 'They've taken me up and brought me to the police-station out of
+Thy great goodness,' and the like. I tell you that went on when I was
+quite a little fellow."
+
+All laughed heartily again; that was what Skouratof wanted; he liked
+playing clown. Soon the talk became serious again, especially among the
+older men and those who knew a good deal about escapes. Those among the
+younger convicts who could keep themselves quiet enough to listen,
+seemed highly delighted. A great crowd was assembled in and about the
+kitchen. There were none of the warders about; so everybody could give
+vent to his feelings in talk or otherwise. One man I noticed who was
+particularly enjoying himself, a Tartar, a little fellow with high
+cheek-bones, and a remarkably droll face. His name was Mametka, he could
+scarcely speak Russian at all, but it was odd to see the way he craned
+his neck forward into the crowd, and the childish delight he showed.
+
+"Well, Mametka, my lad, _iakchi_."
+
+"_Iakchi, ouk, iakchi!_" said Mametka as well as he could, shaking his
+grotesque head. "_Iakchi._"
+
+"They'll never catch them, eh? _Iok._"
+
+"_Iok, iok!_" and Mametka waggled his head and threw his arms about.
+
+"You're a liar, then, and I don't know what you're talking about. Hey!"
+
+"That's it, that's it, _iakchi_!" answered poor Mametka.
+
+"All right, good, _iakchi_ it is!"
+
+Skouratof gave him a thump on the head, which sent his cap down over his
+eyes, and went out in high glee, and Mametka was quite chapfallen.
+
+For a week or so a very tight hand was kept on everybody in the jail,
+and the whole neighbourhood was repeatedly and carefully searched. How
+they managed it I cannot tell, but the prisoners always seemed to know
+all about the measures taken by the authorities for recovering the
+runaways. For some days, according to all we heard, things went very
+favourably for them; no traces whatever of them could be found. Our
+convicts made very light of all the authorities were about, and were
+quite at their ease about their friends, and kept saying that nothing
+would ever be found out about them.
+
+All the peasants round about were roused, we were told, and watching all
+the likely places, woods, ravines, etc.
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" said our fellows, who had a grin on their faces
+most of the time, "they're hidden at somebody's place who's a friend."
+
+"That's certain; they're not the fellows to chance things, they've made
+all sure."
+
+The general idea was, in fact, that they were still concealed in the
+suburbs of the town, in a cellar, waiting till the hue and cry was over,
+and for their hair to grow; that they would remain there perhaps six
+months at least, and then quietly go off. All the prisoners were in the
+most fanciful and romantic state of mind about the things. Suddenly,
+eight days after the escape, a rumour spread that the authorities were
+on their track. This rumour was at first treated with contempt, but
+towards evening there seemed to be more in it. The convicts became much
+excited. Next morning it was said in the town that the runaways had been
+caught, and were being brought back. After dinner there were further
+details; the story was that they had been seized at a hamlet, seventy
+versts away from the town. At last we had fully confirmed tidings. The
+sergeant-major positively asserted, immediately after an interview with
+the Major, that they would be brought into the guard-house that very
+night. They were taken; there could be no doubt of it.
+
+It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the way the convicts were
+affected by the news. At first their rage was great, then they were
+deeply dejected. Then they began to be bitter and sarcastic, pouring all
+their scorn, not on the authorities, but on the runaways who had been
+such fools as to get caught. A few began this, then nearly all joined,
+except a small number of the more serious, thoughtful ones, who held
+their tongues, and seemed to regard the thoughtless fellows with great
+contempt.
+
+Poor Koulikoff and A--v were now just as heartily abused as they had
+been glorified before; the men seemed to take a delight in running them
+down, as though in being caught they had done something wantonly
+offensive to their mates. It was said, with high contempt, that the
+fellows had probably got hungry and couldn't stand it, and had gone into
+a village to ask bread of the peasants, which, according to tramp
+etiquette, it appears, is to come down very low in the world indeed. In
+this supposition the men turned out to be quite mistaken; for what had
+happened was that the tracks of the runaways out of the town were
+discovered and followed up; they were ascertained to have got into a
+wood, which was surrounded, so that the fugitives had no recourse but
+to give themselves up.
+
+They were brought in that night, tied hands and feet, under armed
+escort. All the convicts ran hastily to the palisades to see what would
+be done with them; but they saw nothing except the carriages of the
+Governor and the Major, which were waiting in front of the guard-house.
+The fugitives were ironed and locked up separately, their punishment
+being adjourned till the next day. The prisoners began all to sympathise
+with the unhappy fellows when they heard how they had been taken, and
+learned that they could not help themselves, and the anxiety about the
+issue was keen.
+
+"They'll get a thousand at least."
+
+"A thousand, is it? I tell you they'll have it till the life is beaten
+out of them. A--v may get off with a thousand, but the other they'll
+kill; why, he's in the 'special section.'"
+
+They were wrong. A--v was sentenced to five hundred strokes, his
+previous good conduct told in his favour, and this was his first prison
+offence. Koulikoff, I believe, had fifteen hundred. The punishment, upon
+the whole, was mild rather than severe.
+
+The two men showed good sense and feeling, for they gave nobody's name
+as having helped them, and positively declared that they had made
+straight for the woods without going into anybody's house. I was very
+sorry for Koulikoff; to say nothing of the heavy beating he got; he had
+thrown away all his chances of having his lot as a prisoner lightened.
+Later he was sent to another convict establishment. A--v did not get all
+he was sentenced to; the physicians interfered, and he was let off. But
+as soon as he was safe in the hospital he began blowing his trumpet
+again, and said he would stick at nothing now, and that they should soon
+see what he would do. Koulikoff was not changed a bit, as decorous as
+ever, and gave himself just the same airs as ever; manner or words to
+show that he had had such an adventure. But the convicts looked on him
+quite differently; he seemed to have come down a good deal in their
+estimation, and now to be on their own level every way, instead of being
+a superior creature. So it was that poor Koulikoff's star paled; success
+is everything in this world.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[12] The expression of the original is untranslatable; literally "you
+killed a cattle-kill." This phrase means murder of a peasant, male or
+female, supposed to bewitch cattle. We had in our jail a murderer who
+had done this cattle-kill.--DOSTO�EFFSKY'S NOTE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+FREEDOM!
+
+
+This incident occurred during my last year of imprisonment. My
+recollection of what occurred this last year is as keen as of the events
+of the first years; but I have gone into detail enough. In spite of my
+impatience to be out, this year was the least trying of all the years I
+spent there. I had now many friends and acquaintances among the
+convicts, who had by this time made up their minds very much in my
+favour. Many of them, indeed, had come to feel a sincere and genuine
+affection for me. The soldier who was assigned to accompany my friend
+and myself--simultaneously discharged--out of the prison, very nearly
+cried when the time for leaving came. And when we were at last in full
+freedom, staying in the rooms of the Government building placed at our
+disposal for the month we still spent in the town, this man came nearly
+every day to see us. But there were some men whom I could never soften
+or win any regard from--God knows why--and who showed just the same hard
+aversion for me at the last as at the first; something we could not get
+over stood between us.
+
+I had more indulgences during the last year. I found among the military
+functionaries of our town old acquaintances, and even some old
+schoolfellows, and the renewal of these relations helped me. Thanks to
+them I got permission to have some money, to write to my family, and
+even to have some books. For some years I had not had a single volume,
+and words would fail to tell the strange, deep emotion and excitement
+which the first book I read at the jail caused me. I began to devour it
+at night, when the doors were closed, and read it till the break of day.
+It was a number of a review, and it seemed to me like a messenger from
+the other world. As I read, my life before the prison days seemed to
+rise up before me in sharp definition, as of some existence independent
+of my own, which another soul had had. Then I tried to get some clear
+idea of my relation to current events and things; whether my arrears of
+knowledge and experience were too great to make up; whether the men and
+women out of doors had lived and gone through many things and great
+during the time I was away from them; and great was my desire to
+thoroughly understand what was _now_ going on, _now_ that I could know
+something about it all at last. All the words I read were as palpable
+things, which I wanted rather to feel sensibly than get mere meaning out
+of; I tried to see more in the text than _could_ be there. I imagined
+some mysterious meanings that _must_ be in them, and tried at every page
+to see allusions to the past, with which my mind was familiar, whether
+they were there or not; at every turn of the leaf I sought for traces of
+what had deeply moved people before the days of my bondage; and deep was
+my dejection when it was forced on my mind that a new state of things
+had arisen; a new life, among my kind, which was alien to my knowledge
+and my sentiments. I felt as if I was a straggler, left behind and lost
+in the onward march of mankind.
+
+Yes, there were indeed arrears, if the word is not too weak.
+
+For the truth is, that another generation had come up, and I knew it
+not, and it knew not me. At the foot of one article I saw the name of
+one who had been dear to me; with what avidity I flung myself on _that_
+paper! But the other names were nearly all new to me; new workers had
+come upon the scene, and I was eager to know their doings and
+themselves. It made me feel nearly desperate to have so few books, and
+to know how hard it would be to get more. At an earlier date, in the old
+Major's time, it was a dangerous thing indeed to bring books into the
+jail. If one was found when the whole place was searched, as was
+regularly done, great was the disturbance, and no efforts were spared to
+find out how they got in, and who had helped in the offence. I did not
+want to be subjected to insulting scrutiny, and, if I had, it would have
+been useless. I _had_ to live without books, and did, shut up in myself,
+tormenting myself with many a question and problem on which I had no
+means of throwing any light. But I can _never_ tell it all.
+
+It was in winter that I came in, so in winter I was to leave, on the
+anniversary-day. Oh, with what impatience did I look forward to the
+thrice-blessed winter! How gladly did I see the summer die out, the
+leaves turn yellow on the trees, the grass turn dry over the wide
+steppe! Summer is gone at last! the winds of autumn howl and groan, the
+first snow falls in whirling flakes. The winter, so long, long-prayed
+for, is come, come at last. Oh, how the heart beats with the thought
+that freedom was really, at last, at last, close at hand. Yet it was
+strange, as the time of times, the day of days, grew nearer and nearer,
+so did my soul grow quieter and quieter. I was annoyed at myself,
+reproached myself even with being cold, indifferent. Many of the
+convicts, as I met them in the court-yard when the day's work was done,
+used to get out, and talk with me to wish me joy.
+
+"Ah, little Father Alexander Petrovitch, you'll soon be out now! And
+here you'll leave us poor devils behind!"
+
+"Well, Mertynof, have you long to wait still?" I asked the man who
+spoke.
+
+"I! Oh, good Lord, I've seven years of it yet to weary through."
+
+Then the man sighed with a far-away, wandering look, as if he was gazing
+into those intolerable days to come.... Yes, many of my companions
+congratulated me in a way that showed they really felt what they said. I
+saw, too, that there was more disposition to meet me as man to man, they
+drew nearer to me as I was to leave them; the halo of freedom began to
+surround me, and caring for that they cared more for me. It was in this
+spirit they bade me farewell.
+
+K--schniski, a young Polish noble, a sweet and amiable person, was very
+fond, about this time, of walking in the court-yard with me. The
+stifling nights in the barracks did him much harm, so he tried his best
+to keep his health by getting all the exercise and fresh air he could.
+
+"I am looking forward impatiently to the day when _you_ will be set
+free," he said with a smile one day, "for when you go I shall _realise_
+that I have just one year more of it to undergo."
+
+Need I say what I can yet not help saying, that freedom in idea always
+seemed to us who were there something _more_ free than it ever can be in
+reality? That was because our fancy was always dwelling upon it.
+Prisoners always exaggerate when they think of freedom and look on a
+free man; we did certainly; the poorest servant of one of the officers
+there seemed a sort of king to us, everything we could imagine in a free
+man, compared with ourselves at least; he had no irons on his limbs, his
+head was not shaven, he could go where and when he liked, with no
+soldiers to watch and escort him.
+
+The day before I was set free, as night fell I went _for the last time_
+all through and all round the prison. How many a thousand times had I
+made the circuit of those palisades during those ten years! There, at
+the rear of the barracks, had I gone to and fro during the whole of that
+first year, a solitary, despairing man. I remember how I used to reckon
+up the days I had still to pass there--thousands, thousands! God! how
+long ago it seemed. There's the corner where the poor prisoned eagle
+wasted away; Petroff used often to come to me at that place. It seemed
+as if the man would never leave my side now; he would place himself by
+my side and walk along without ever saying a word, as though he knew all
+my thoughts as well as myself, and there was always a strange,
+inexplicable sort of wondering look on the man's face.
+
+How many a mental farewell did I take of the black, squared beams in our
+barracks! Ah, me! How much joyless youth, how much strength for which
+use there was none, was buried, lost in those walls!--youth and strength
+of which the world might surely have made _some_ use. For I must speak
+my thoughts as to this: the hapless fellows there were perhaps the
+strongest, and, in one way or another, the most gifted of our people.
+There was all that strength of body and of mind lost, hopelessly lost.
+Whose fault is that?
+
+Yes; whose fault _is_ that?
+
+The next day, at an early hour, before the men were mustered for work, I
+went through all the barracks to bid the men a last farewell. Many a
+vigorous, horny hand was held out to me with right good-will. Some
+grasped and shook my hand as though all their hearts went with the act;
+but these were the more generous souls. Most of the poor fellows seemed
+so much to feel that, for them, I was already a man changed by what was
+coming, that they could feel scarce anything else. They knew that I had
+friends in the town, that I was going away at once to _gentlemen_, that
+I should sit at their table as their equal. This the poor fellows felt;
+and, although they did their best as they took my hand, that hand could
+not be the hand of an equal. No; I, too, was a gentleman now. Some
+turned their backs on me, and made no reply to my parting words. I
+think, too, that I saw looks of aversion on some faces.
+
+The drum beat; all the convicts went to their work; and I was left to
+myself. Souchiloff had got up before everybody that morning, and now set
+himself tremblingly to the task of getting ready for me a last cup of
+tea. Poor Souchiloff! How he cried when I gave him my clothes, my
+shirts, my trouser-straps, and some money.
+
+"'Tain't that, 'tain't that," he said, and he bit his trembling lips,
+"it's that I am going to lose you, Alexander Petrovitch! What _shall_ I
+do without you?"
+
+There was Akim Akimitch, too; him, also, I bade farewell.
+
+"Your turn to go will come soon, I pray," said I.
+
+"Ah, no! I shall remain here long, long, very long yet," he just managed
+to say, as he pressed my hand. I threw myself on his neck; we kissed.
+
+Ten minutes after the convicts had gone out, my companion and myself
+left the jail _for ever_. We went to the blacksmith's shop, where our
+irons were struck off. We had no armed escort, we went there attended by
+a single sub-officer. It was convicts who struck off our irons in the
+engineers' workshop. I let them do it for my friend first, then went to
+the anvil myself. The smiths made me turn round, seized my leg, and
+stretched it on the anvil. Then they went about the business
+methodically, as though they wanted to make a very neat job of it
+indeed.
+
+"The rivet, man, turn the rivet first," I heard the master smith say;
+"there, so, so. Now, a stroke of the hammer!"
+
+The irons fell. I lifted them up. Some strange impulse made me long to
+have them in my hands for one last time. I couldn't realise that, only a
+moment before, they had been on my limbs.
+
+"Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye!" said the convicts in their broken
+voices; but they seemed pleased as they said it.
+
+Yes, farewell!
+
+Liberty! New life! Resurrection from the dead!
+
+Unspeakable moment!
+
+
+THE END
+
+THE TEMPLE PRESS, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The House of the Dead or Prison Life
+in Siberia, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The House of the Dead or Prison Life in
+Siberia, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The House of the Dead or Prison Life in Siberia
+       with and introduction by Julius Bramont
+
+Author: Fyodor Dostoyevsky
+
+Editor: Ernest Rhys
+
+Release Date: September 25, 2011 [EBook #37536]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charlene Taylor, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian
+Libraries)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY
+EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS
+
+FICTION
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD
+
+WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY JULIUS BRAMONT
+
+
+THE PUBLISHERS OF _EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY_ WILL BE PLEASED TO SEND FREELY
+TO ALL APPLICANTS A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED AND PROJECTED VOLUMES TO BE
+COMPRISED UNDER THE FOLLOWING THIRTEEN HEADINGS:
+
+TRAVEL
+SCIENCE
+FICTION
+THEOLOGY & PHILOSOPHY
+HISTORY
+CLASSICAL
+FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
+ESSAYS
+ORATORY
+POETRY & DRAMA
+BIOGRAPHY
+REFERENCE
+ROMANCE
+
+[Illustration: Decoration]
+
+IN FOUR STYLES OF BINDING: CLOTH, FLAT BACK, COLOURED TOP; LEATHER,
+ROUND CORNERS, GILT TOP; LIBRARY BINDING IN CLOTH, & QUARTER PIGSKIN
+
+LONDON: J. M. DENT & SONS, LTD. NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
+
+
+A TALE WHICH HOLDETH CHILDREN FROM PLAY
+& OLD MEN FROM THE CHIMNEY CORNER
+
+SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSE _of the_ DEAD
+_or Prison Life in Siberia_
+
+BY FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY
+
+[Illustration: Decoration]
+
+LONDON: PUBLISHED
+by J.M. DENT & SONS LTD
+AND IN NEW YORK
+BY E. P. DUTTON & CO
+
+
+FIRST ISSUE OF THIS EDITION       1911
+REPRINTED                         1914
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+"The Russian nation is a new and wonderful phenomenon in the history of
+mankind. The character of the people differs to such a degree from that
+of the other Europeans that their neighbours find it impossible to
+diagnose them." This affirmation by Dostoieffsky, the prophetic
+journalist, offers a key to the treatment in his novels of the troubles
+and aspirations of his race. He wrote with a sacramental fervour whether
+he was writing as a personal agent or an impersonal, novelist or
+journalist. Hence his rage with the calmer men, more gracious
+interpreters of the modern Sclav, who like Ivan Tourguenieff were able
+to see Russia on a line with the western nations, or to consider her
+maternal throes from the disengaged, safe retreat of an arm-chair exile
+in Paris. Not so was _l'ame Russe_ to be given her new literature in the
+eyes of M. Dostoieffsky, strained with watching, often red with tears
+and anger.
+
+Those other nations, he said--proudly looking for the symptoms of the
+world-intelligence in his own--those other nations of Europe may
+maintain that they have at heart a common aim and a common ideal. In
+fact they are divided among themselves by a thousand interests,
+territorial or other. Each pulls his own way with ever-growing
+determination. It would seem that every individual nation aspires to the
+discovery of the universal ideal for humanity, and is bent on attaining
+that ideal by force of its own unaided strength. Hence, he argued, each
+European nation is an enemy to its own welfare and that of the world in
+general.
+
+To this very disassociation he attributed, without quite understanding
+the rest of us, our not understanding the Russian people, and our taxing
+them with "a lack of personality." We failed to perceive their rare
+synthetic power--that faculty of the Russian mind to read the
+aspirations of the whole of human kind. Among his own folk, he avowed,
+we would find none of the imperviousness, the intolerance, of the
+average European. The Russian adapts himself with ease to the play of
+contemporary thought and has no difficulty in assimilating any new idea.
+He sees where it will help his fellow-creatures and where it fails to be
+of value. He divines the process by which ideas, even the most
+divergent, the most hostile to one another, may meet and blend.
+
+Possibly, recognising this, M. Dostoieffsky was the more concerned not
+to be too far depolarised, or say de-Russified, in his own works of
+fiction. But in truth he had no need to fear any weakening of his
+natural fibre and racial proclivities, or of the authentic utterance
+wrung out of him by the hard and cruel thongs of experience. We see the
+rigorous sincerity of his record again in the sheer autobiography
+contained in the present work, _The House of the Dead_. It was in the
+fatal winter of 1849 when he was with many others, mostly very young men
+like himself, sentenced to death for his liberal political propaganda; a
+sentence which was at the last moment commuted to imprisonment in the
+Siberian prisons. Out of that terror, which turned youth grey, was
+distilled the terrible reality of _The House of the Dead_. If one would
+truly fathom how deep that reality is, and what its phenomenon in
+literature amounts to, one should turn again to that favourite idyllic
+book of youth, by my countrywoman Mme. Cottin, _Elizabeth, or the Exiles
+of Siberia_, and compare, for example, the typical scene of Elizabeth's
+sleep in the wooden chapel in the snow, where she ought to have been
+frozen to death but fared very comfortably, with the Siberian actuality
+of Dostoieffsky.
+
+But he was no idyllist, though he could be tender as Mme. Cottin
+herself. What he felt about these things you can tell from his stories.
+If a more explicit statement in the theoretic side be asked of him, take
+this plain avowal from his confession books of 1870-77:--
+
+"There is no denying that the people are morally ill, with a grave,
+although not a mortal, malady, one to which it is difficult to assign a
+name. May we call it 'An unsatisfied thirst for truth'? The people are
+seeking eagerly and untiringly for truth and for the ways that lead to
+it, but hitherto they have failed in their search. After the liberation
+of the serfs, this great longing for truth appeared among the
+people--for truth perfect and entire, and with it the resurrection of
+civic life. There was a clamouring for a 'new Gospel'; new ideas and
+feelings became manifest; and a great hope rose up among the people
+believing that these great changes were precursors of a state of things
+which never came to pass."
+
+There is the accent of his hope and his despair. Let it prove to you the
+conviction with which he wrote these tragic pages, one that is affecting
+at this moment the destiny of Russia and the spirit of us who watch her
+as profoundly moved spectators.
+
+JULIUS BRAMONT.
+
+
+
+
+BIBLIOGRAPHY
+
+(_Dostoieffsky's works, so far as they have appeared in English._)
+
+
+     Translations of Dostoieffsky's novels have appeared as
+     follows:--Buried Alive; or, Ten Years of Penal Servitude in
+     Siberia, translated by Marie v. Thilo, 1881. In Vizetelly's One
+     Volume Novels: Crime and Punishment, vol. 13; Injury and Insult,
+     translated by F. Whishaw, vol. 17; The Friend of the Family and the
+     Gambler, etc., vol. 22. In Vizetelly's Russian Novels: The Idiot,
+     by F. Whishaw, 1887; Uncle's Dream; and, The Permanent Husband,
+     etc., 1888. Prison Life in Siberia, translated by H. S. Edwards,
+     1888; Poor Folk, translated by L. Milman, 1894.
+
+     See D. S. Merezhkovsky, Tolstoi as Man and Artist, with Essay on
+     Dostoieffsky, translated from the Russian, 1902; M. Baring,
+     Landmarks in Russian Literature (chapter on Dostoieffsky), 1910.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                          PART I
+
+CHAP.                                            PAGE
+
+   I. TEN YEARS A CONVICT                            1
+  II. THE DEAD-HOUSE                                 7
+ III. FIRST IMPRESSIONS                             24
+  IV. FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)               43
+   V. FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)               61
+  VI. THE FIRST MONTH                               80
+ VII. THE FIRST MONTH (_continued_)                 95
+VIII. NEW ACQUAINTANCES--PETROFF                   110
+  IX. MEN OF DETERMINATION--LUKA                   125
+   X. ISAIAH FOMITCH--THE BATH--BAKLOUCHIN         133
+  XI. THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS                       152
+ XII. THE PERFORMANCE                              171
+
+
+                          PART II
+
+   I. THE HOSPITAL                                 194
+  II. THE HOSPITAL (_continued_)                   209
+ III. THE HOSPITAL (_continued_)                   225
+  IV. THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA                       248
+   V. THE SUMMER SEASON                            264
+  VI. THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT     286
+ VII. GRIEVANCES                                   302
+VIII. MY COMPANIONS                                325
+  IX. THE ESCAPE                                   344
+   X. FREEDOM!                                     363
+
+
+
+
+PRISON LIFE IN SIBERIA.
+
+
+
+
+PART I.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+TEN YEARS A CONVICT
+
+
+In the midst of the steppes, of the mountains, of the impenetrable
+forests of the desert regions of Siberia, one meets from time to time
+with little towns of a thousand or two inhabitants, built entirely of
+wood, very ugly, with two churches--one in the centre of the town, the
+other in the cemetery--in a word, towns which bear much more resemblance
+to a good-sized village in the suburbs of Moscow than to a town properly
+so called. In most cases they are abundantly provided with
+police-master, assessors, and other inferior officials. If it is cold in
+Siberia, the great advantages of the Government service compensate for
+it. The inhabitants are simple people, without liberal ideas. Their
+manners are antique, solid, and unchanged by time. The officials who
+form, and with reason, the nobility in Siberia, either belong to the
+country, deeply-rooted Siberians, or they have arrived there from
+Russia. The latter come straight from the capitals, tempted by the high
+pay, the extra allowance for travelling expenses, and by hopes not less
+seductive for the future. Those who know how to resolve the problem of
+life remain almost always in Siberia; the abundant and richly-flavoured
+fruit which they gather there recompenses them amply for what they lose.
+
+As for the others, light-minded persons who are unable to deal with the
+problem, they are soon bored in Siberia, and ask themselves with regret
+why they committed the folly of coming. They impatiently kill the three
+years which they are obliged by rule to remain, and as soon as their
+time is up, they beg to be sent back, and return to their original
+quarters, running down Siberia, and ridiculing it. They are wrong, for
+it is a happy country, not only as regards the Government service, but
+also from many other points of view.
+
+The climate is excellent, the merchants are rich and hospitable, the
+Europeans in easy circumstances are numerous; as for the young girls,
+they are like roses and their morality is irreproachable. Game is to be
+found in the streets, and throws itself upon the sportsman's gun. People
+drink champagne in prodigious quantities. The caviare is astonishingly
+good and most abundant. In a word, it is a blessed land, out of which it
+is only necessary to be able to make profit; and much profit is really
+made.
+
+It is in one of these little towns--gay and perfectly satisfied with
+themselves, the population of which has left upon me the most agreeable
+impression--that I met an exile, Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff,
+formerly a landed proprietor in Russia. He had been condemned to hard
+labour of the second class for assassinating his wife. After undergoing
+his punishment--ten years of hard labour--he lived quietly and unnoticed
+as a colonist in the little town of K----. To tell the truth, he was
+inscribed in one of the surrounding districts; but he resided at K----,
+where he managed to get a living by giving lessons to children. In the
+towns of Siberia one often meets with exiles who are occupied with
+instruction. They are not looked down upon, for they teach the French
+language, so necessary in life, and of which without them one would not,
+in the distant parts of Siberia, have the least idea.
+
+I saw Alexander Petrovitch the first time at the house of an official,
+Ivan Ivanitch Gvosdikof, a venerable old man, very hospitable, and the
+father of five daughters, of whom the greatest hopes were entertained.
+Four times a week Alexander Petrovitch gave them lessons, at the rate of
+thirty kopecks silver a lesson. His external appearance interested me.
+He was excessively pale and thin, still young--about thirty-five years
+of age--short and weak, always very neatly dressed in the European
+style. When you spoke to him he looked at you in a very attentive
+manner, listening to your words with strict politeness, and with a
+reflective air, as though you had placed before him a problem or wished
+to extract from him a secret. He replied clearly and shortly; but in
+doing so, weighed each word, so that one felt ill at ease without
+knowing why, and was glad when the conversation came to an end. I put
+some questions to Ivan Gvosdikof in regard to him. He told me that
+Goriantchikoff was of irreproachable morals, otherwise Gvosdikof would
+not have entrusted him with the education of his children; but that he
+was a terrible misanthrope, who kept apart from all society; that he was
+very learned, a great reader, and that he spoke but little, and never
+entered freely into a conversation. Certain persons told him that he was
+mad; but that was not looked upon as a very serious defect. Accordingly,
+the most important persons in the town were ready to treat Alexander
+Petrovitch with respect, for he could be useful to them in writing
+petitions. It was believed that he was well connected in Russia.
+Perhaps, among his relations, there were some who were highly placed;
+but it was known that since his exile he had broken off all relations
+with them. In a word--he injured himself. Every one knew his story, and
+was aware that he had killed his wife, through jealousy, less than a
+year after his marriage; and that he had given himself up to justice;
+which had made his punishment much less severe. Such crimes are always
+looked upon as misfortunes, which must be treated with pity.
+Nevertheless, this original kept himself obstinately apart, and never
+showed himself except to give lessons. In the first instance I paid no
+attention to him; then, without knowing why, I found myself interested
+by him. He was rather enigmatic; to talk with him was quite impossible.
+Certainly he replied to all my questions; he seemed to make it a duty to
+do so; but when once he had answered, I was afraid to interrogate him
+any longer.
+
+After such conversations one could observe on his countenance signs of
+suffering and exhaustion. I remember that, one fine summer evening, I
+went out with him from the house of Ivan Gvosdikof. It suddenly occurred
+to me to invite him to come in with me and smoke a cigarette. I can
+scarcely describe the fright which showed itself in his countenance. He
+became confused, muttered incoherent words, and suddenly, after looking
+at me with an angry air, took to flight in an opposite direction. I was
+very much astonished afterwards, when he met me. He seemed to
+experience, on seeing me, a sort of terror; but I did not lose courage.
+There was something in him which attracted me.
+
+A month afterwards I went to see Petrovitch without any pretext. It is
+evident that, in doing so, I behaved foolishly, and without the least
+delicacy. He lived at one of the extreme points of the town with an old
+woman whose daughter was in a consumption. The latter had a little child
+about ten years old, very pretty and very lively.
+
+When I went in Alexander Petrovitch was seated by her side, and was
+teaching her to read. When he saw me he became confused, as if I had
+detected him in a crime. Losing all self-command, he suddenly stood up
+and looked at me with awe and astonishment. Then we both of us sat down.
+He followed attentively all my looks, as if I had suspected him of some
+mysterious intention. I understood he was horribly mistrustful. He
+looked at me as a sort of spy, and he seemed to be on the point of
+saying, "Are you not soon going away?"
+
+I spoke to him of our little town, of the news of the day, but he was
+silent, or smiled with an air of displeasure. I could see that he was
+absolutely ignorant of all that was taking place in the town, and that
+he was in no way curious to know. I spoke to him afterwards of the
+country generally, and of its men. He listened to me still in silence,
+fixing his eyes upon me in such a strange way that I became ashamed of
+what I was doing. I was very nearly offending him by offering him some
+books and newspapers which I had just received by post. He cast a greedy
+look upon them; he then seemed to alter his mind, and declined my offer,
+giving his want of leisure as a pretext.
+
+At last I wished him good-bye, and I felt a weight fall from my
+shoulders as I left the house. I regretted to have harassed a man whose
+tastes kept him apart from the rest of the world. But the fault had been
+committed. I had remarked that he possessed very few books. It was not
+true, then, that he read so much. Nevertheless, on two occasions when I
+drove past, I saw a light in his lodging. What could make him sit up so
+late? Was he writing, and if that were so, what was he writing?
+
+I was absent from our town for about three months. When I returned home
+in the winter, I learned that Petrovitch was dead, and that he had not
+even sent for a doctor. He was even now already forgotten, and his
+lodging was unoccupied. I at once made the acquaintance of his landlady,
+in the hope of learning from her what her lodger had been writing. For
+twenty kopecks she brought me a basket full of papers left by the
+defunct, and confessed to me that she had already employed four sheets
+in lighting her fire. She was a morose and taciturn old woman. I could
+not get from her anything that was interesting. She could tell me
+nothing about her lodger. She gave me to understand all the same that he
+scarcely ever worked, and that he remained for months together without
+opening a book or touching a pen. On the other hand, he walked all night
+up and down his room, given up to his reflections. Sometimes, indeed, he
+spoke aloud. He was very fond of her little grandchild, Katia, above all
+when he knew her name; on her name's-day--the day of St. Catherine--he
+always had a requiem said in the church for some one's soul. He detested
+receiving visits, and never went out except to give lessons. Even his
+landlady he looked upon with an unfriendly eye when, once a week, she
+came into his room to put it in order.
+
+During the three years he had passed with her, he had scarcely ever
+spoken to her. I asked Katia if she remembered him. She looked at me in
+silence, and turned weeping to the wall. This man, then, was loved by
+some one! I took away the papers, and passed the day in examining them.
+They were for the most part of no importance, merely children's
+exercises. At last I came to a rather thick packet, the sheets of which
+were covered with delicate handwriting, which abruptly ceased. It had
+perhaps been forgotten by the writer. It was the narrative--incoherent
+and fragmentary--of the ten years Alexander Petrovitch had passed in
+hard labour. This narrative was interrupted, here and there, either by
+anecdotes, or by strange, terrible recollections thrown in convulsively
+as if torn from the writer. I read some of these fragments again and
+again, and I began to doubt whether they had not been written in moments
+of madness; but these memories of the convict prison--"Recollections of
+the Dead-House," as he himself called them somewhere in his
+manuscript--seemed to me not without interest. They revealed quite a new
+world unknown till then; and in the strangeness of his facts, together
+with his singular remarks on this fallen people, there was enough to
+tempt me to go on. I may perhaps be wrong, but I will publish some
+chapters from this narrative, and the public shall judge for itself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE DEAD-HOUSE
+
+
+Our prison was at the end of the citadel behind the ramparts. Looking
+through the crevices between the palisade in the hope of seeing
+something, one sees nothing but a little corner of the sky, and a high
+earthwork, covered with the long grass of the steppe. Night and day
+sentries walk to and fro upon it. Then one perceives from the first,
+that whole years will pass during which one will see by the same
+crevices between the palisades, upon the same earthwork, always the same
+sentinels and the same little corner of the sky, not just above the
+prison, but far and far away. Represent to yourself a court-yard, two
+hundred feet long, and one hundred and fifty feet broad, enclosed by an
+irregular hexagonal palisade, formed of stakes thrust deep into the
+earth. So much for the external surroundings of the prison. On one side
+of the palisade is a great gate, solid, and always shut; watched
+perpetually by the sentinels, and never opened, except when the convicts
+go out to work. Beyond this, there are light and liberty, the life of
+free people! Beyond the palisade, one thought of the marvellous world,
+fantastic as a fairy tale. It was not the same on our side. Here, there
+was no resemblance to anything. Habits, customs, laws, were all
+precisely fixed. It was the house of living death. It is this corner
+that I undertake to describe.
+
+On penetrating into the enclosure one sees a few buildings. On each
+side of a vast court are stretched forth two wooden constructions, made
+of trunks of trees, and only one storey high. These are convicts'
+barracks. Here the prisoners are confined, divided into several classes.
+At the end of the enclosure may be seen a house, which serves as a
+kitchen, divided into two compartments. Behind it is another building,
+which serves at once as cellar, loft, and barn. The centre of the
+enclosure, completely barren, is a large open space. Here the prisoners
+are drawn up in ranks, three times a day. They are identified, and must
+answer to their names, morning, noon, and evening, besides several times
+in the course of the day if the soldiers on guard are suspicious and
+clever at counting. All around, between the palisades and the buildings
+there remains a sufficiently large space, where some of the prisoners
+who are misanthropes, or of a sombre turn of mind, like to walk about
+when they are not at work. There they go turning over their favourite
+thoughts, shielded from all observation.
+
+When I met them during those walks of theirs, I took pleasure in
+observing their sad, deeply-marked countenances, and in guessing their
+thoughts. The favourite occupation of one of the convicts, during the
+moments of liberty left to him from his hard labour, was to count the
+palisades. There were fifteen hundred of them. He had counted them all,
+and knew them nearly by heart. Every one of them represented to him a
+day of confinement; but, counting them daily in this manner, he knew
+exactly the number of days that he had still to pass in the prison. He
+was sincerely happy when he had finished one side of the hexagon; yet he
+had to wait for his liberation many long years. But one learns patience
+in a prison.
+
+One day I saw a prisoner, who had undergone his punishment, take leave
+of his comrades. He had had twenty years' hard labour. More than one
+convict remembered seeing him arrive, quite young, careless, thinking
+neither of his crime nor of his punishment. He was now an old man with
+gray hairs, with a sad and morose countenance. He walked in silence
+through our six barracks. When he entered each of them he prayed before
+the holy image, made a deep bow to his former companions, and begged
+them not to keep a bad recollection of him.
+
+I also remember one evening, a prisoner, who had been formerly a
+well-to-do Siberian peasant, so called. Six years before he had had news
+of his wife's remarrying, which had caused him great pain. That very
+evening she had come to the prison, and had asked for him in order to
+make him a present! They talked together for two minutes, wept together,
+and then separated never to meet again. I saw the expression of this
+prisoner's countenance when he re-entered the barracks. There, indeed,
+one learns to support everything.
+
+When darkness set in we had to re-enter the barrack, where we were shut
+up for all the night. It was always painful for me to leave the
+court-yard for the barrack. Think of a long, low, stifling room,
+scarcely lighted by tallow candles, and full of heavy and disgusting
+odours. I cannot now understand how I lived there for ten entire years.
+My camp bedstead was made of three boards. This was the only place in
+the room that belonged to me. In one single room we herded together,
+more than thirty men. It was, above all, no wonder that we were shut up
+early. Four hours at least passed before every one was asleep, and,
+until then, there was a tumult and uproar of laughter, oaths, rattling
+of chains, a poisonous vapour of thick smoke; a confusion of shaved
+heads, stigmatised foreheads, and ragged clothes disgustingly filthy.
+
+Yes, man is a pliable animal--he must be so defined--a being who gets
+accustomed to everything! That would be, perhaps, the best definition
+that could be given of him. There were altogether two hundred and fifty
+of us in the same prison. This number was almost invariably the same.
+Whenever some of them had undergone their punishment, other criminals
+arrived, and a few of them died. Among them there were all sorts of
+people. I believe that each region of Russia had furnished its
+representatives. There were foreigners there, and even mountaineers from
+the Caucasus.
+
+All these people were divided into different classes, according to the
+importance of the crime; and consequently the duration of the punishment
+for the crime, whatever it might be, was there represented. The
+population of the prison was composed for the most part of men condemned
+to hard labour of the civil class--"strongly condemned," as the
+prisoners used to say. They were criminals deprived of all civil rights,
+men rejected by society, vomited forth by it, and whose faces were
+marked by the iron to testify eternally to their disgrace. They were
+incarcerated for different periods of time, varying from eight to ten
+years. At the expiration of their punishment they were sent to the
+Siberian districts in the character of colonists.
+
+As to the criminals of the military section, they were not deprived of
+their civil rights--as is generally the case in Russian disciplinary
+companies--but were punished for a relatively short period. As soon as
+they had undergone their punishment they had to return to the place
+whence they had come, and became soldiers in the battalions of the
+Siberian Line.[1]
+
+Many of them came back to us afterwards, for serious crimes, this time
+not for a small number of years, but for twenty at least. They then
+formed part of the section called "for perpetuity." Nevertheless, the
+perpetuals were not deprived of their right. There was another section
+sufficiently numerous, composed of the worst malefactors, nearly all
+veterans in crime, and which was called the special section. There were
+sent convicts from all the Russias. They looked upon one another with
+reason as imprisoned for ever, for the term of their confinement had not
+been indicated. The law required them to receive double and treble
+tasks. They remained in prison until work of the most painful character
+had to be undertaken in Siberia.
+
+"You are only here for a fixed time," they said to the other convicts;
+"we, on the contrary, are here for all our life."
+
+I have heard that this section has since been abolished. At the same
+time, civil convicts are kept apart, in order that the military convicts
+may be organised by themselves into a homogeneous "disciplinary
+company." The administration, too, has naturally been changed;
+consequently what I describe are the customs and practices of another
+time, and of things which have since been abolished. Yes, it was a long
+time ago; it seems to me that it is all a dream. I remember entering the
+convict prison one December evening, as night was falling. The convicts
+were returning from work. The roll-call was about to be made. An under
+officer with large moustaches opened to me the gate of this strange
+house, where I was to remain so many years, to endure so many emotions,
+and of which I could not form even an approximate idea, if I had not
+gone through them. Thus, for example, could I ever have imagined the
+poignant and terrible suffering of never being alone even for one minute
+during ten years? Working under escort in the barracks together with two
+hundred "companions;" never alone, never!
+
+However, I was obliged to get accustomed to it. Among them there were
+murderers by imprudence, and murderers by profession, simple thieves,
+masters in the art of finding money in the pockets of the passers-by, or
+of wiping off no matter what from the table. It would have been
+difficult, however, to say why and how certain prisoners found
+themselves among the convicts. Each of them had his history, confused
+and heavy, painful as the morning after a debauch.
+
+The convicts, as a rule, spoke very little of their past life, which
+they did not like to think of. They endeavoured, even, to dismiss it
+from their memory.
+
+Amongst my companions of the chain I have known murderers who were so
+gay and so free from care, that one might have made a bet that their
+conscience never made them the least reproach. But there were also men
+of sombre countenance who remained almost always silent. It was very
+rarely any one told his history. This sort of thing was not the fashion.
+Let us say at once that it was not received. Sometimes, however, from
+time to time, for the sake of change, a prisoner used to tell his life
+to another prisoner, who would listen coldly to the narrative. No one,
+to tell the truth, could have said anything to astonish his neighbour.
+"We are not ignoramuses," they would sometimes say with singular pride.
+
+I remember one day a ruffian who had got drunk--it was sometimes
+possible for the convicts to get drink--relating how he had killed and
+cut up a child of five. He had first tempted the child with a plaything,
+and then taking it to a loft, had cut it up to pieces. The entire
+barrack, which, generally speaking, laughed at his jokes, uttered one
+unanimous cry. The ruffian was obliged to be silent. But if the convicts
+had interrupted him, it was not by any means because his recital had
+caused their indignation, but because it was not allowed to speak of
+such things.
+
+I must here observe that the convicts possessed a certain degree of
+instruction. Half of them, if not more, knew how to read and write.
+Where in Russia, in no matter what population, could two hundred and
+fifty men be found able to read and write? Later on I have heard people
+say, and conclude on the strength of these abuses, that education
+demoralises the people. This is a mistake. Education has nothing
+whatever to do with moral deterioration. It must be admitted,
+nevertheless, that it develops a resolute spirit among the people. But
+this is far from being a defect.
+
+Each section had a different costume. The uniform of one was a cloth
+vest, half brown and half gray, and trousers with one leg brown, the
+other gray. One day while we were at work, a little girl who sold scones
+of white bread came towards the convicts. She looked at them for a time
+and then burst into a laugh. "Oh, how ugly they are!" she cried; "they
+have not even enough gray cloth or brown cloth to make their clothes."
+Every convict wore a vest made of gray cloth, except the sleeves, which
+were brown. Their heads, too, were shaved in different styles. The
+crown was bared sometimes longitudinally, sometimes latitudinally, from
+the nape of the neck to the forehead, or from one ear to another.
+
+This strange family had a general likeness so pronounced that it could
+be recognised at a glance.
+
+Even the most striking personalities, those who dominated involuntarily
+the other convicts, could not help taking the general tone of the house.
+
+Of the convicts--with the exception of a few who enjoyed childish
+gaiety, and who by that alone drew upon themselves general contempt--all
+the convicts were morose, envious, frightfully vain, presumptuous,
+susceptible, and excessively ceremonious. To be astonished at nothing
+was in their eyes the first and indispensable quality. Accordingly,
+their first aim was to bear themselves with dignity. But often the most
+composed demeanour gave way with the rapidity of lightning. With the
+basest humility some, however, possessed genuine strength; these were
+naturally all sincere. But strangely enough, they were for the most part
+excessively and morbidly vain. Vanity was always their salient quality.
+
+The majority of the prisoners were depraved and perverted, so that
+calumnies and scandal rained amongst them like hail. Our life was a
+constant hell, a perpetual damnation; but no one would have dared to
+raise a voice against the internal regulations of the prison, or against
+established usages. Accordingly, willingly or unwillingly, they had to
+be submitted to. Certain indomitable characters yielded with difficulty,
+but they yielded all the same. Prisoners who when at liberty had gone
+beyond all measure, who, urged by their over-excited vanity, had
+committed frightful crimes unconsciously, as if in a delirium, and had
+been the terror of entire towns, were put down in a very short time by
+the system of our prison. The "new man," when he began to reconnoitre,
+soon found that he could astonish no one, and insensibly he submitted,
+took the general tone, and assumed a sort of personal dignity which
+almost every convict maintained, just as if the denomination of convict
+had been a title of honour. Not the least sign of shame or of
+repentance, but a kind of external submission which seemed to have been
+reasoned out as the line of conduct to be pursued. "We are lost men,"
+they said to themselves. "We were unable to live in liberty; we must now
+go to Green Street."[2]
+
+"You would not obey your father and mother; you will now obey thongs of
+leather." "The man who would not sow must now break stones."
+
+These things were said, and repeated in the way of morality, as
+sentences and proverbs, but without any one taking them seriously. They
+were but words in the air. There was not one man among them who admitted
+his iniquity. Let a stranger not a convict endeavour to reproach him
+with his crime, and the insults directed against him would be endless.
+And how refined are convicts in the matter of insults! They insult
+delicately, like artists; insult with the most delicate science. They
+endeavour not so much to offend by the expression as by the meaning, the
+spirit of an envenomed phrase. Their incessant quarrels developed
+greatly this special art.
+
+As they only worked under the threat of an immense stick, they were idle
+and depraved. Those who were not already corrupt when they arrived at
+the convict establishment, became perverted very soon. Brought together
+in spite of themselves, they were perfect strangers to one another. "The
+devil has worn out three pairs of sandals before he got us together,"
+they would say. Intrigues, calumnies, scandal of all kinds, envy, and
+hatred reigned above everything else. In this life of sloth, no ordinary
+spiteful tongue could make head against these murderers, with insults
+constantly in their mouths.
+
+As I said before, there were found among them men of open character,
+resolute, intrepid, accustomed to self-command. These were held
+involuntarily in esteem. Although they were very jealous of their
+reputation, they endeavoured to annoy no one, and never insulted one
+another without a motive. Their conduct was on all points full of
+dignity. They were rational, and almost always obedient, not by
+principle, or from any respect for duty, but as if in virtue of a mutual
+convention between themselves and the administration--a convention of
+which the advantages were plain enough.
+
+The officials, moreover, behaved prudently towards them. I remember that
+one prisoner of the resolute and intrepid class, known to possess the
+instincts of a wild beast, was summoned one day to be whipped. It was
+during the summer, no work was being done. The Adjutant, the direct and
+immediate chief of the convict prison, was in the orderly-room, by the
+side of the principal entrance, ready to assist at the punishment. This
+Major was a fatal being for the prisoners, whom he had brought to such a
+state that they trembled before him. Severe to the point of insanity,
+"he threw himself upon them," to use their expression. But it was above
+all that his look, as penetrating as that of a lynx, was feared. It was
+impossible to conceal anything from him. He saw, so to say, without
+looking. On entering the prison, he knew at once what was being done.
+Accordingly, the convicts, one and all, called him the man with the
+eight eyes. His system was bad, for it had the effect of irritating men
+who were already irascible. But for the Commandant, a well-bred and
+reasonable man, who moderated the savage onslaughts of the Major, the
+latter would have caused sad misfortunes by his bad administration. I do
+not understand how he managed to retire from the service safe and sound.
+It is true that he left after being called before a court-martial.
+
+The prisoner turned pale when he was called; generally speaking, he lay
+down courageously, and without uttering a word, to receive the terrible
+rods, after which he got up and shook himself. He bore the misfortune
+calmly, philosophically, it is true, though he was never punished
+carelessly, nor without all sorts of precautions. But this time he
+considered himself innocent. He turned pale, and as he walked quietly
+towards the escort of soldiers he managed to conceal in his sleeve a
+shoemaker's awl. The prisoners were severely forbidden to carry sharp
+instruments about them. Examinations were frequently, minutely, and
+unexpectedly made, and all infractions of the rule were severely
+punished. But as it is difficult to take away from the criminal what he
+is determined to conceal, and as, moreover, sharp instruments are
+necessarily used in the prison, they were never destroyed. If the
+official succeeded in taking them away from the convicts, the latter
+procured new ones very soon.
+
+On the occasion in question, all the convicts had now thrown themselves
+against the palisade, with palpitating hearts, to look through the
+crevices. It was known that this time Petroff would not allow himself to
+be flogged, that the end of the Major had come. But at the critical
+moment the latter got into his carriage, and went away, leaving the
+direction of the punishment to a subaltern. "God has saved him!" said
+the convicts. As for Petroff, he underwent his punishment quietly. Once
+the Major had gone, his anger fell. The prisoner is submissive and
+obedient to a certain point, but there is a limit which must not be
+crossed. Nothing is more curious than these strange outbursts of
+disobedience and rage. Often a man who has supported for many years the
+most cruel punishment, will revolt for a trifle, for nothing at all. He
+might pass for a madman; that, in fact, is what is said of him.
+
+I have already said that during many years I never remarked the least
+sign of repentance, not even the slightest uneasiness with regard to the
+crime committed; and that most of the convicts considered neither honour
+nor conscience, holding that they had a right to act as they thought
+fit. Certainly vanity, evil examples, deceitfulness, and false shame
+were responsible for much. On the other hand, who can claim to have
+sounded the depths of these hearts, given over to perdition, and to have
+found them closed to all light? It would seem all the same that during
+so many years I ought to have been able to notice some indication, even
+the most fugitive, of some regret, some moral suffering. I positively
+saw nothing of the kind. With ready-made opinions one cannot judge of
+crime. Its philosophy is a little more complicated than people think. It
+is acknowledged that neither convict prisons, nor the hulks, nor any
+system of hard labour ever cured a criminal. These forms of chastisement
+only punish him and reassure society against the offences he might
+commit. Confinement, regulation, and excessive work have no effect but
+to develop with these men profound hatred, a thirst for forbidden
+enjoyment, and frightful recalcitrations. On the other hand I am
+convinced that the celebrated cellular system gives results which are
+specious and deceitful. It deprives a criminal of his force, of his
+energy, enervates his soul by weakening and frightening it, and at last
+exhibits a dried up mummy as a model of repentance and amendment.
+
+The criminal who has revolted against society, hates it, and considers
+himself in the right; society was wrong, not he. Has he not, moreover,
+undergone his punishment? Accordingly he is absolved, acquitted in his
+own eyes. In spite of different opinions, every one will acknowledge
+that there are crimes which everywhere, always, under no matter what
+legislation, are beyond discussion crimes, and should be regarded as
+such as long as man is man. It is only at the convict prison that I have
+heard related, with a childish, unrestrained laugh, the strangest, most
+atrocious offences. I shall never forget a certain parricide, formerly a
+nobleman and a public functionary. He had given great grief to his
+father--a true prodigal son. The old man endeavoured in vain to restrain
+him by remonstrance on the fatal slope down which he was sliding. As he
+was loaded with debts, and his father was suspected of having, besides
+an estate, a sum of ready money, he killed him in order to enter more
+quickly into his inheritance. This crime was not discovered until a
+month afterwards. During all this time the murderer, who meanwhile had
+informed the police of his father's disappearance, continued his
+debauches. At last, during his absence, the police discovered the old
+man's corpse in a drain. The gray head was severed from the trunk, but
+replaced in its original position. The body was entirely dressed.
+Beneath, as if by derision, the assassin had placed a cushion.
+
+The young man confessed nothing. He was degraded, deprived of his
+nobiliary privileges, and condemned to twenty years' hard labour. As
+long as I knew him I always found him to be careless of his position. He
+was the most light-minded, inconsiderate man that I ever met, although
+he was far from being a fool. I never observed in him any great tendency
+to cruelty. The other convicts despised him, not on account of his
+crime, of which there was never any question, but because he was without
+dignity. He sometimes spoke of his father. One day for instance,
+boasting of the hereditary good health of his family, he said: "My
+father, for example, until his death was never ill."
+
+Animal insensibility carried to such a point is most remarkable--it is,
+indeed, phenomenal. There must have been in this case an organic defect
+in the man, some physical and moral monstrosity unknown hitherto to
+science, and not simply crime. I naturally did not believe in so
+atrocious a crime; but people of the same town as himself, who knew all
+the details of his history, related it to me. The facts were so clear
+that it would have been madness not to accept them. The prisoners once
+heard him cry out during his sleep: "Hold him! hold him! Cut his head
+off, his head, his head!"
+
+Nearly all the convicts dreamed aloud, or were delirious in their sleep.
+Insults, words of slang, knives, hatchets, seemed constantly present in
+their dreams. "We are crushed!" they would say; "we are without
+entrails; that is why we shriek in the night."
+
+Hard labour in our fortress was not an occupation, but an obligation.
+The prisoners accomplished their task, they worked the number of hours
+fixed by the law, and then returned to the prison. They hated their
+liberty. If the convict did not do some work on his own account
+voluntarily, it would be impossible for him to support his confinement.
+How could these persons, all strongly constituted, who had lived
+sumptuously, and desired so to live again, who had been brought
+together against their will, after society had cast them up--how could
+they live in a normal and natural manner? Man cannot exist without work,
+without legal, natural property. Depart from these conditions, and he
+becomes perverted and changed into a wild beast. Accordingly, every
+convict, through natural requirements and by the instinct of
+self-preservation, had a trade--an occupation of some kind.
+
+The long days of summer were taken up almost entirely by our hard
+labour. The night was so short that we had only just time to sleep. It
+was not the same in winter. According to the regulations, the prisoners
+had to be shut up in the barracks at nightfall. What was to be done
+during these long, sad evenings but work? Consequently each barrack,
+though locked and bolted, assumed the appearance of a large workshop.
+The work was not, it is true, strictly forbidden, but it was forbidden
+to have tools, without which work is evidently impossible. But we
+laboured in secret, and the administration seemed to shut its eyes. Many
+prisoners arrived without knowing how to make use of their ten fingers;
+but they learnt a trade from some of their companions, and became
+excellent workmen.
+
+We had among us cobblers, bootmakers, tailors, masons, locksmiths, and
+gilders. A Jew named Esau Boumstein was at the same time a jeweller and
+a usurer. Every one worked, and thus gained a few pence--for many orders
+came from the town. Money is a tangible resonant liberty, inestimable
+for a man entirely deprived of true liberty. If he feels some money in
+his pocket, he consoles himself a little, even though he cannot spend
+it--but one can always and everywhere spend money, the more so as
+forbidden fruit is doubly sweet. One can often buy spirits in the
+convict prison. Although pipes are severely forbidden, every one smokes.
+Money and tobacco save the convicts from the scurvy, as work saves them
+from crime--for without work they would mutually have destroyed one
+another like spiders shut up in a close bottle. Work and money were all
+the same forbidden. Often during the night severe examinations were
+made, during which everything that was not legally authorised was
+confiscated. However successfully the little hoards had been concealed,
+they were sometimes discovered. That was one of the reasons why they
+were not kept very long. They were exchanged as soon as possible for
+drink, which explains how it happened that spirits penetrated into the
+convict prison. The delinquent was not only deprived of his hoard, but
+was also cruelly flogged.
+
+A short time after each examination the convicts procured again the
+objects which had been confiscated, and everything went on as before.
+The administration knew it; and although the condition of the convicts
+was a good deal like that of the inhabitants of Vesuvius, they never
+murmured at the punishment inflicted for these peccadilloes. Those who
+had no manual skill did business somehow or other. The modes of buying
+and selling were original enough. Things changed hands which no one
+expected a convict would ever have thought of selling or buying, or even
+of regarding as of any value whatever. The least rag had its value, and
+might be turned to account. In consequence, however, of the poverty of
+the convicts, money acquired in their eyes a superior value to that
+really belonging to it.
+
+Long and painful tasks, sometimes of a very complicated kind, brought
+back a few kopecks. Several of the prisoners lent by the week, and did
+good business that way. The prisoner who was ruined and insolvent
+carried to the usurer the few things belonging to him and pledged them
+for some halfpence, which were lent to him at a fabulous rate of
+interest. If he did not redeem them at the fixed time the usurer sold
+them pitilessly by auction, and without the least delay.
+
+Usury flourished so well in our convict prison that money was lent even
+on things belonging to the Government: linen, boots, etc.--things that
+were wanted at every moment. When the lender accepted such pledges the
+affair took an unexpected turn. The proprietor went, immediately after
+he had received his money, and told the under officer--chief
+superintendent of the convict prison--that objects belonging to the
+State were being concealed, on which everything was taken away from the
+usurer without even the formality of a report to the superior
+administration. But never was there any quarrel--and that is very
+curious indeed--between the usurer and the owner. The first gave up in
+silence, with a morose air, the things demanded from him, as if he had
+been waiting for the request. Sometimes, perhaps, he confessed to
+himself that, in the place of the borrower, he would not have acted
+differently. Accordingly, if he was insulted after this restitution, it
+was less from hatred than simply as a matter of conscience.
+
+The convicts robbed one another without shame. Each prisoner had his
+little box fitted with a padlock, in which he kept the things entrusted
+to him by the administration. Although these boxes were authorised, that
+did not prevent them from being broken into. The reader can easily
+imagine what clever thieves were found among us. A prisoner who was
+sincerely devoted to me--I say it without boasting--stole my Bible from
+me, the only book allowed in the convict prison. He told me of it the
+same day, not from repentance, but because he pitied me when he saw me
+looking for it everywhere. We had among our companions of the chain
+several convicts called "innkeepers," who sold spirits, and became
+comparatively rich by doing so. I shall speak of this further on, for
+the liquor traffic deserves special study.
+
+A great number of prisoners had been deported for smuggling, which
+explains how it was that drink was brought secretly into the convict
+prison, under so severe a surveillance as ours was. In passing it may be
+remarked that smuggling is an offence apart. Would it be believed that
+money, the solid profit from the affair, possesses often only secondary
+importance for the smuggler? It is all the same an authentic fact. He
+works by vocation. In his style he is a poet. He risks all he possesses,
+exposes himself to terrible dangers, intrigues, invents, gets out of a
+scrape, and brings everything to a happy end by a sort of inspiration.
+This passion is as violent as that of play.
+
+I knew a prisoner of colossal stature who was the mildest, the most
+peaceable, and most manageable man it was possible to see. We often
+asked one another how he had been deported. He had such a calm, sociable
+character, that during the whole time that he passed at the convict
+prison, he never quarrelled with any one. Born in Western Russia, where
+he lived on the frontier, he had been sent to hard labour for smuggling.
+Naturally, then, he could not resist his desire to smuggle spirits into
+the prison. How many times was he not punished for it, and heaven knows
+how much he feared the rods. This dangerous trade brought him in but
+slender profits. It was the speculator who got rich at his expense. Each
+time he was punished he wept like an old woman, and swore by all that
+was holy that he would never be caught at such things again. He kept his
+vow for an entire month, but he ended by yielding once more to his
+passion. Thanks to these amateurs of smuggling, spirits were always to
+be had in the convict prison.
+
+Another source of income which, without enriching the prisoners, was
+constantly and beneficently turned to account, was alms-giving. The
+upper classes of our Russian society do not know to what an extent
+merchants, shopkeepers, and our people generally, commiserate the
+"unfortunate!"[3] Alms were always forthcoming, and consisted generally
+of little white loaves, sometimes of money, but very rarely. Without
+alms, the existence of the convicts, and above all that of the accused,
+who are badly fed, would be too painful. These alms are shared equally
+between all the prisoners. If the gifts are not sufficient, the little
+loaves are divided into halves, and sometimes into six pieces, so that
+each convict may have his share. I remember the first alms, a small
+piece of money, that I received. A short time after my arrival, one
+morning, as I was coming back from work with a soldier escort, I met a
+mother and her daughter, a child of ten, as beautiful as an angel. I had
+already seen them once before.
+
+The mother was the widow of a poor soldier, who, while still young, had
+been sentenced by a court-martial, and had died in the infirmary of the
+convict prison while I was there. They wept hot tears when they came to
+bid him good-bye. On seeing me the little girl blushed, and murmured a
+few words into her mother's ear, who stopped, and took from a basket a
+kopeck which she gave to the little girl. The little girl ran after me.
+
+"Here, poor man," she said, "take this in the name of Christ." I took
+the money which she slipped into my hand. The little girl returned
+joyfully to her mother. I preserved that kopeck a considerable time.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Goriantchikoff became himself a soldier in Siberia, when he had
+finished his term of imprisonment.
+
+[2] An allusion to the two rows of soldiers, armed with green rods,
+between which convicts condemned to corporal punishment had and still
+have to pass. But this punishment now exists only for convicts deprived
+of all their civil rights. This subject will be returned to further on.
+
+[3] Men condemned to hard labour, and exiles generally, are so called by
+the Russian peasantry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS
+
+
+During the first weeks, and naturally the early part of my imprisonment,
+made a deep impression on my imagination. The following years on the
+other hand are all mixed up together, and leave but a confused
+recollection. Certain epochs of this life are even effaced from my
+memory. I have kept one general impression of it, always the same;
+painful, monotonous, stifling. What I saw in experience during the first
+days of my imprisonment seems to me as if it had all taken place
+yesterday. Such was sure to be the case. I remember perfectly that in
+the first place this life astonished me by the very fact that it offered
+nothing particular, nothing extraordinary, or to express myself better,
+nothing unexpected. It was not until later on, when I had lived some
+time in the convict prison, that I understood all that was exceptional
+and unforeseen in such a life. I was astonished at the discovery. I will
+avow that this astonishment remained with me throughout my term of
+punishment. I could not decidedly reconcile myself to this existence.
+
+First of all, I experienced an invincible repugnance on arriving; but
+oddly enough the life seemed to me less painful than I had imagined on
+the journey.
+
+Indeed, prisoners, though embarrassed by their irons went to and fro in
+the prison freely enough. They insulted one another, sang, worked,
+smoked pipes, and drank spirits. There were not many drinkers all the
+same. There were also regular card parties during the night. The labour
+did not seem to me very trying; I fancied that it could not be the real
+"hard labour." I did not understand till long afterwards why this labour
+was really hard and excessive. It was less by reason of its difficulty,
+than because it was forced, imposed, obligatory; and it was only done
+through fear of the stick. The peasant works certainly harder than the
+convict, for, during the summer, he works night and day. But it is in
+his own interest that he fatigues himself. His aim is reasonable, so
+that he suffers less than the convict who performs hard labour from
+which he derives no profit. It once came into my head that if it were
+desired to reduce a man to nothing--to punish him atrociously, to crush
+him in such a manner that the most hardened murderer would tremble
+before such a punishment, and take fright beforehand--it would be
+necessary to give to his work a character of complete uselessness, even
+to absurdity.
+
+Hard labour, as it is now carried on, presents no interest to the
+convict; but it has its utility. The convict makes bricks, digs the
+earth, builds; and all his occupations have a meaning and an end.
+Sometimes, even the prisoner takes an interest in what he is doing. He
+then wishes to work more skilfully, more advantageously. But let him be
+constrained to pour water from one vessel into another, or to transport
+a quantity of earth from one place to another, in order to perform the
+contrary operation immediately afterwards, then I am persuaded that at
+the end of a few days the prisoner would strangle himself or commit a
+thousand crimes, punishable with death, rather than live in such an
+abject condition and endure such torments. It is evident that such
+punishment would be rather a torture, an atrocious vengeance, than a
+correction. It would be absurd, for it would have no natural end.
+
+I did not, however, arrive until the winter--in the month of
+December--and the labour was then unimportant in our fortress. I had no
+idea of the summer labour--five times as fatiguing. The prisoners,
+during the winter season, broke up on the Irtitch some old boats
+belonging to the Government, found occupation in the workshops, took
+away the snow blown by hurricanes against the buildings, or burned and
+pounded alabaster. As the day was very short, the work ceased at an
+early hour, and every one returned to the convict prison, where there
+was scarcely anything to do, except the supplementary work which the
+convicts did for themselves.
+
+Scarcely a third of the convicts worked seriously, the others idled
+their time and wandered about without aim in the barracks, scheming and
+insulting one another. Those who had a little money got drunk on
+spirits, or lost what they had saved at gambling. And all this from
+idleness, weariness, and want of something to do.
+
+I learned, moreover, to know one suffering which is perhaps the
+sharpest, the most painful that can be experienced in a house of
+detention apart from laws and liberty. I mean, "forced cohabitation."
+Cohabitation is more or less forced everywhere and always; but nowhere
+is it so horrible as in a prison. There are men there with whom no one
+would consent to live. I am certain that every convict, unconsciously
+perhaps, has suffered from this.
+
+The food of the prisoners seemed to me passable; some declared even that
+it was incomparably better than in any Russian prison. I cannot certify
+to this, for I was never in prison anywhere else. Many of us, besides,
+were allowed to procure whatever nourishment we wanted. As fresh meat
+cost only three kopecks a pound, those who always had money allowed
+themselves the luxury of eating it. The majority of the prisoners were
+contented with the regular ration.
+
+When they praised the diet of the convict prison, they were thinking
+only of the bread, which was distributed at the rate of so much per
+room, and not individually or by weight. This last condition would have
+frightened the convicts, for a third of them at least would have
+constantly suffered from hunger; while, with the system in vogue, every
+one was satisfied. Our bread was particularly nice, and was even
+renowned in the town. Its good quality was attributed to the excellent
+construction of the prison ovens. As for our cabbage-soup, it was cooked
+and thickened with flour. It had not an appetising appearance. On
+working days it was clear and thin; but what particularly disgusted me
+was the way it was served. The prisoners, however, paid no attention to
+that.
+
+During the three days that followed my arrival, I did not go to work.
+Some respite was always given to prisoners just arrived, in order to
+allow them to recover from their fatigue. The second day I had to go out
+of the convict prison in order to be ironed. My chain was not of the
+regulation pattern; it was composed of rings, which gave forth a clear
+sound, so I heard other convicts say. I had to wear them externally over
+my clothes, whereas my companions had chains formed, not of rings, but
+of four links, as thick as the finger, and fastened together by three
+links which were worn beneath the trousers. To the central ring was
+fastened a strip of leather, tied in its turn to a girdle fastened over
+the shirt.
+
+I can see again the first morning that I passed in the convict prison.
+The drum sounded in the orderly room, near the principal entrance. Ten
+minutes afterwards the under officer opened the barracks. The convicts
+woke up one after another and rose trembling with cold from their plank
+bedsteads, by the dull light of a tallow candle. Nearly all of them were
+morose; they yawned and stretched themselves. Their foreheads, marked by
+the iron, were contracted. Some made the sign of the Cross; others began
+to talk nonsense. The cold air from outside rushed in as soon as the
+door was opened. Then the prisoners hurried round the pails full of
+water, one after another, and took water in their mouths, and, letting
+it out into their hands, washed their faces. Those pails had been
+brought in the night before by a prisoner specially appointed, according
+to the rules, to clean the barracks.
+
+The convicts chose him themselves. He did not work with the others, for
+it was his business to examine the camp bedsteads and the floors, to
+fetch and carry water. This water served in the morning for the
+prisoners' ablutions, and the rest during the day for ordinary drinking.
+That very morning there were disputes on the subject of one of the
+pitchers.
+
+"What are you doing there with your marked forehead?" grumbled one of
+the prisoners, tall, dry, and sallow.
+
+He attracted attention by the strange protuberances with which his skull
+was covered. He pushed against another convict round and small, with a
+lively rubicund countenance.
+
+"Just wait."
+
+"What are you crying out about? You know that a fine must be paid when
+the others are kept waiting. Off with you. What a monument, my
+brethren!"
+
+"A little calf," he went on muttering. "See, the white bread of the
+prison has fattened him."
+
+"For what do you take yourself? A fine bird, indeed."
+
+"You are about right."
+
+"What bird do you mean?"
+
+"You don't require to be told."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Find out."
+
+They devoured one another with their eyes. The little man, waiting for a
+reply, with clenched fists, was apparently ready to fight. I thought
+that an encounter would take place. It was all quite new to me;
+accordingly I watched the scene with curiosity. Later on I learnt that
+such quarrels were very innocent, that they served for entertainment.
+Like an amusing comedy, it scarcely ever ended in blows. This
+characteristic plainly informed me of the manners of the prisoners.
+
+The tall prisoner remained calm and majestic. He felt that some answer
+was expected from him, if he was not to be dishonoured, covered with
+ridicule. It was necessary for him to show that he was a wonderful bird,
+a personage. Accordingly, he cast a side look on his adversary,
+endeavouring, with inexpressible contempt, to irritate him by looking at
+him over his shoulders, up and down, as he would have done with an
+insect. At last the little fat man was so irritated that he would have
+thrown himself upon his adversary had not his companions surrounded the
+combatants to prevent a serious quarrel from taking place.
+
+"Fight with your fists, not with your tongues," cried a spectator from a
+corner of the room.
+
+"No, hold them," answered another, "they are going to fight. We are fine
+fellows, one against seven is our style."
+
+Fine fighting men! One was here for having sneaked a pound of bread, the
+other is a pot-stealer; he was whipped by the executioner for stealing a
+pot of curdled milk from an old woman.
+
+"Enough, keep quiet," cried a retired soldier, whose business it was to
+keep order in the barrack, and who slept in a corner of the room on a
+bedstead of his own.
+
+"Water, my children, water for Nevalid Petrovitch, water for our little
+brother, who has just woke up."
+
+"Your brother! Am I your brother? Did we ever drink a roublesworth of
+spirits together?" muttered the old soldier as he passed his arms
+through the sleeves of his great-coat.
+
+The roll was about to be called, for it was already late. The prisoners
+were hurrying towards the kitchen. They had to put on their pelisses,
+and were to receive in their bi-coloured caps the bread which one of the
+cooks--one of the bakers, that is to say--was distributing among them.
+These cooks, like those who did the household work, were chosen by the
+prisoners themselves. There were two for the kitchen, making four in all
+for the convict prison. They had at their disposal the only
+kitchen-knife authorised in the prison, which was used for cutting up
+the bread and meat. The prisoners arranged themselves in groups around
+the tables as best they could in caps and pelisses, with leather girdles
+round their waists, all ready to begin work. Some of the convicts had
+kvas before them, in which they steeped pieces of bread. The noise was
+insupportable. Many of the convicts, however, were talking together in
+corners with a steady, tranquil air.
+
+"Good-morning and good appetite, Father Antonitch," said a young
+prisoner, sitting down by the side of an old man, who had lost his
+teeth.
+
+"If you are not joking, well, good-morning," said the latter, without
+raising his eyes, and endeavouring to masticate a piece of bread with
+his toothless gums.
+
+"I declare I fancied you were dead, Antonitch."
+
+"Die first, I will follow you."
+
+I sat down beside them. On my right two convicts were conversing with an
+attempt at dignity.
+
+"I am not likely to be robbed," said one of them. "I am more afraid of
+stealing myself."
+
+"It would not be a good idea to rob me. The devil! I should pay the man
+out."
+
+"But what would you do, you are only a convict? We have no other name.
+You will see that she will rob you, the wretch, without even saying,
+'Thank you.' The money I gave her was wasted. Just fancy, she was here a
+few days ago! Where were we to go? Shall I ask permission to go into the
+house of Theodore, the executioner? He has still his house in the
+suburb, the one he bought from that Solomon, you know, that scurvy Jew
+who hung himself not long since."
+
+"Yes, I know him, the one who sold liquor here three years ago, and who
+was called Grichka--the secret-drinking shop."
+
+"I know."
+
+"_All_ brag. You don't know. In the first place it is another drinking
+shop."
+
+"What do you mean, another? You don't know what you are talking about. I
+will bring you as many witnesses as you like."
+
+"Oh, you will bring them, will you? Who are you? Do you know to whom you
+are speaking?"
+
+"Yes, indeed."
+
+"I have often thrashed you, though I don't boast of it. Do not give
+yourself airs then."
+
+"You have thrashed me? The man who will thrash me is not yet born; and
+the man who did thrash me is six feet beneath the ground."
+
+"Plague-stricken rascal of Bender?"
+
+"May the Siberian leprosy devour you with ulcers!"
+
+"May a chopper cleave your dog of a head."
+
+Insults were falling about like rain.
+
+"Come, now, they are going to fight. When men have not been able to
+conduct themselves properly they should keep silent. They are too glad
+to come and eat the Government bread, the rascals!"
+
+They were soon separated. Let them fight with the tongue as much as they
+wish. That is permitted. It is a diversion at the service of every one;
+but no blows. It is, indeed, only in extraordinary cases that blows were
+exchanged. If a fight took place, information was given to the Major,
+who ordered an inquiry or directed one himself; and then woe to the
+convicts. Accordingly they set their faces against anything like a
+serious quarrel; besides, they insulted one another chiefly to pass the
+time, as an oratorical exercise. They get excited; the quarrel takes a
+furious, ferocious character; they seem about to slaughter one another.
+Nothing of the kind takes place. As soon as their anger has reached a
+certain pitch they separate.
+
+That astonished me much, and if I relate some of the conversations
+between the convicts, I do so with a purpose. Could I have imagined that
+people could have insulted one another for pleasure, that they could
+find enjoyment in it?
+
+We must not forget the gratification of vanity. A dialectician, who
+knows how to insult artistically, is respected. A little more, and he
+would be applauded like an actor.
+
+Already, the night before, I noticed some glances in my direction. On
+the other hand, several convicts hung around me as if they had suspected
+that I had brought money with me. They endeavoured to get into my good
+graces by teaching me how to carry my irons without being incommoded.
+They also gave me--of course in return for money--a box with a lock, in
+order to keep safe the things which had been entrusted to me by the
+administration, and the few shirts that I had been allowed to bring with
+me to the convict prison. Not later than next morning these same
+prisoners stole my box, and drank the money which they had taken out of
+it.
+
+One of them became afterwards a great friend of mine, though he robbed
+me whenever an opportunity offered itself. He was, all the same, vexed
+at what he had done. He committed these thefts almost unconsciously, as
+if in the way of a duty. Consequently I bore him no grudge.
+
+These convicts let me know that one could have tea, and that I should do
+well to get myself a teapot. They found me one, which I hired for a
+certain time. They also recommended me a cook, who, for thirty kopecks a
+month, would arrange the dishes I might desire, if it was my intention
+to buy provisions and take my meals apart. Of course they borrowed money
+from me. The day of my arrival they asked me for some at three different
+times.
+
+The noblemen degraded from their position, here incarcerated in the
+convict prison, were badly looked upon by their fellow prisoners;
+although they had lost all their rights like the other convicts, they
+were not looked upon as comrades.
+
+In this instinctive repugnance there was a sort of reason. To them we
+were always gentlemen, although they often laughed at our fall.
+
+"Ah! it's all over now. Mossieu's carriage formerly crushed the
+passers-by at Moscow. Now Mossieu picks hemp!"
+
+They knew our sufferings, though we hid them as much as possible. It
+was, above all, when we were all working together that we had most to
+endure, for our strength was not so great as theirs, and we were really
+not of much assistance to them. Nothing is more difficult than to gain
+the confidence of the common people; above all, such people as these!
+
+There were only a few of us who were of noble birth in the whole prison.
+First, there were five Poles--of whom further on I shall speak in
+detail--they were detested by the convicts more, perhaps, than the
+Russian nobles. The Poles--I speak only of the political
+convicts--always behaved to them with a constrained and offensive
+politeness, scarcely ever speaking to them, and making no endeavour to
+conceal the disgust which they experienced in such company. The convicts
+understood all this, and paid them back in their own coin.
+
+Two years passed before I could gain the good-will of my companions; but
+the greater part of them were attached to me, and declared that I was a
+good fellow.
+
+There were altogether--counting myself--five Russian nobles in the
+convict prison. I had heard of one of them even before my arrival as a
+vile and base creature, horribly corrupt, doing the work of spy and
+informer. Accordingly, from the very first day I refused to enter into
+relations with this man. The second was the parricide of whom I have
+spoken in these memoirs. The third was Akimitch. I have scarcely ever
+seen such an original; and I have still a lively recollection of him.
+
+Tall, thin, weak-minded, and terribly ignorant, he was as argumentative
+and as particular about details as a German. The convicts laughed at
+him; but they feared him, on account of his susceptible, excitable, and
+quarrelsome disposition. As soon as he arrived, he was on a footing of
+perfect equality with them. He insulted them and beat them. Phenomenally
+just, it was sufficient for him that there was injustice, to interfere
+in an affair which did not concern him. He was, moreover, exceedingly
+simple. When he quarrelled with the convicts, he reproached them with
+being thieves, and exhorted them in all sincerity to steal no more. He
+had served as a sub-lieutenant in the Caucasus. I made friends with him
+the first day, and he related to me his "affair." He had begun as a
+cadet in a Line regiment. After waiting some time to be appointed to his
+commission as sub-lieutenant, he at last received it, and was sent into
+the mountains to command a small fort. A small tributary prince in the
+neighbourhood set fire to the fort, and made a night attack, which had
+no success.
+
+Akimitch was very cunning, and pretended not to know that he was the
+author of the attack, which he attributed to some insurgents wandering
+about the mountains. After a month he invited the prince, in a friendly
+way, to come and see him. The prince arrived on horseback, without
+suspecting anything. Akimitch drew up his garrison in line of battle,
+and exposed to the soldiers the treason and villainy of his visitor. He
+reproached him with his conduct; proved to him that to set fire to the
+fort was a shameful crime; explained to him minutely the duties of a
+tributary prince; and then, by way of peroration to his harangue, had
+him shot. He at once informed his superior officers of this execution,
+with all the details necessary. Thereupon Akimitch was brought to trial.
+He appeared before a court-martial, and was condemned to death; but his
+sentence was commuted, and he was sent to Siberia as a convict of the
+second class--condemned, that is to say, to twelve years' hard labour
+and imprisonment in a fortress. He admitted willingly that he had acted
+illegally, and that the prince ought to have been tried in a civil
+court, and not by a court-martial. Nevertheless, he could not understand
+that his action was a crime.
+
+"He had burned my fort; what was I to do? Was I to thank him for it?" he
+answered to my objections.
+
+Although the convicts laughed at Akimitch, and pretended that he was a
+little mad, they esteemed him all the same by reason of his cleverness
+and his precision.
+
+He knew all possible trades, and could do whatever you wished. He was
+cobbler, bootmaker, painter, carver, gilder, and locksmith. He had
+acquired these talents at the convict prison, for it was sufficient for
+him to see an object, in order to imitate it. He sold in the town, or
+caused to be sold, baskets, lanterns, and toys. Thanks to his work, he
+had always some money, which he employed in buying shirts, pillows, and
+so on. He had himself made a mattress, and as he slept in the same room
+as myself he was very useful to me at the beginning of my imprisonment.
+Before leaving prison to go to work, the convicts were drawn up in two
+ranks before the orderly-room, surrounded by an escort of soldiers with
+loaded muskets. An officer of Engineers then arrived, with the
+superintendent of the works and a few soldiers, who watched the
+operations. The superintendent counted the convicts, and sent them in
+bands to the places where they were to be occupied.
+
+I went with some other prisoners to the workshop of the Engineers--a low
+brick house built in the midst of a large court-yard full of materials.
+There was a forge there, and carpenters', locksmiths', and painters'
+workshops. Akimitch was assigned to the last. He boiled the oil for the
+varnish, mixed the colours, and painted tables and other pieces of
+furniture in imitation walnut.
+
+While I was waiting to have additional irons put on, I communicated to
+him my first impressions.
+
+"Yes," he said, "they do not like nobles, above all those who have been
+condemned for political offences, and they take a pleasure in wounding
+their feelings. Is it not intelligible? We do not belong to them, we do
+not suit them. They have all been serfs or soldiers. Tell me what
+sympathy can they have for us. The life here is hard, but it is nothing
+in comparison with that of the disciplinary companies in Russia. There
+it is hell. The men who have been in them praise our convict prison. It
+is paradise compared to their purgatory. Not that the work is harder. It
+is said that with the convicts of the first class the administration--it
+is not exclusively military as it is here--acts quite differently from
+what it does towards us. They have their little houses there I have been
+told, for I have not seen for myself. They wear no uniform, their heads
+are not shaved, though, in my opinion, uniforms and shaved heads are not
+bad things; it is neater, and also it is more agreeable to the eye, only
+these men do not like it. Oh, what a Babel this place is! Soldiers,
+Circassians, old believers, peasants who have left their wives and
+families, Jews, Gypsies, people come from Heaven knows where, and all
+this variety of men are to live quietly together side by side, eat from
+the same dish, and sleep on the same planks. Not a moment's liberty, no
+enjoyment except in secret; they must hide their money in their boots;
+and then always the convict prison at every moment--perpetually convict
+prison! Involuntarily wild ideas come to one."
+
+As I already knew all this, I was above all anxious to question Akimitch
+in regard to our Major. He concealed nothing, and the impression which
+his story left upon me was far from being an agreeable one.
+
+I had to live for two years under the authority of this officer. All
+that Akimitch had told me about him was strictly true. He was a
+spiteful, ill-regulated man, terrible above all things, because he
+possessed almost absolute power over two hundred human beings. He looked
+upon the prisoners as his personal enemies--first, and very serious
+fault. His rare capacities, and, perhaps, even his good qualities, were
+perverted by his intemperance and his spitefulness. He sometimes fell
+like a bombshell into the barracks in the middle of the night. If he
+noticed a prisoner asleep on his back or his left side, he awoke him and
+said to him: "You must sleep as I ordered!" The convicts detested him
+and feared him like the plague. His repulsive, crimson countenance made
+every one tremble. We all knew that the Major was entirely in the hands
+of his servant Fedka, and that he had nearly gone mad when his dog
+"Treasure" fell ill. He preferred this dog to every other living
+creature.
+
+When Fedka told him that a convict, who had picked up some veterinary
+knowledge, made wonderful cures, he sent for him directly and said to
+him, "I entrust my dog to your care. If you cure 'Treasure' I will
+reward you royally." The man, a very intelligent Siberian peasant, was
+indeed a good veterinary surgeon, but he was above all a cunning
+peasant. He used to tell his comrades long after the affair had taken
+place the story of his visit to the Major.
+
+"I looked at 'Treasure,' he was lying down on a sofa with his head on a
+white cushion. I saw at once that he had inflammation, and that he
+wanted bleeding. I think I could have cured him, but I said to myself,
+'What will happen if the dog dies? It will be my fault.' 'No, your
+noble highness,' I said to him, 'you have called me too late. If I had
+seen your dog yesterday or the day before, he would now be restored to
+health; but at the present moment I can do nothing. He will die.' And
+'Treasure' died."
+
+I was told one day that a convict had tried to kill the Major. This
+prisoner had for several years been noticed for his submissive attitude
+and also his silence. He was regarded even as a madman. As he possessed
+some instruction he passed his nights reading the Bible. When everybody
+was asleep he rose, climbed up on to the stove, lit a church taper,
+opened his Gospel and began to read. He did this for an entire year.
+
+One fine day he left the ranks and declared that he would not go to
+work. He was reported to the Major, who flew into a rage, and hurried to
+the barracks. The convict rushed forward and hurled at him a brick,
+which he had procured beforehand; but it missed him. The prisoner was
+seized, tried, and whipped--it was a matter of a few moments--carried to
+the hospital, and died there three days afterwards. He declared during
+his last moments that he hated no one; but that he had wished to suffer.
+He belonged to no sect of fanatics. Afterwards, when people spoke of him
+in the barracks, it was always with respect.
+
+At last they put new irons on me. While they were being soldered a
+number of young women, selling little white loaves, came into the forge
+one after another. They were, for the most part, quite little girls who
+came to sell the loaves that their mothers had baked. As they got older
+they still continued to hang about us, but they no longer brought bread.
+There were always some of them about. There were also married women.
+Each roll cost two kopecks. Nearly all the prisoners used to have them.
+I noticed a prisoner who worked as a carpenter. He was already getting
+gray, but he had a ruddy, smiling complexion. He was joking with the
+vendors of rolls. Before they arrived he had tied a red handkerchief
+round his neck. A fat woman, much marked with the small-pox, put down
+her basket on the carpenter's table. They began to talk.
+
+"Why did you not come yesterday?" said the convict, with a
+self-satisfied smile.
+
+"I did come; but you had gone," replied the woman boldly.
+
+"Yes; they made us go away, otherwise we should have met. The day before
+yesterday they all came to see me."
+
+"Who came?"
+
+"Why, Mariashka, Khavroshka, Tchekunda, Dougrochva" (the woman of four
+kopecks).
+
+"What," I said to Akimitch, "is it possible that----?"
+
+"Yes; it happens sometimes," he replied, lowering his eyes, for he was a
+very proper man.
+
+Yes; it happened sometimes, but rarely, and with unheard of
+difficulties. The convicts preferred to spend their money in drink. It
+was very difficult to meet these women. It was necessary to come to an
+agreement about the place, and the time; to arrange a meeting, to find
+solitude, and, what was most difficult of all, to avoid the
+escorts--almost an impossibility--and to spend relatively prodigious
+sums. I have sometimes, however, witnessed love scenes. One day three of
+us were heating a brick-kiln on the banks of the Irtitch. The soldiers
+of the escort were good-natured fellows. Two "blowers" (they were
+so-called) soon appeared.
+
+"Where were you staying so long?" said a prisoner to them, who had
+evidently been expecting them. "Was it at the Zvierkoffs that you were
+detained?"
+
+"At the Zvierkoffs? It will be fine weather, and the fowls will have
+teeth, when I go to see them," replied one of the women.
+
+She was the dirtiest woman imaginable. She was called Tchekunda, and had
+arrived in company with her friend, the "four kopecks," who was beneath
+all description.
+
+"It's a long time since we have seen anything of you," says the gallant
+to her of the four kopecks; "you seem to have grown thinner."
+
+"Perhaps; formerly I was good-looking and plump, whereas now one might
+fancy I had swallowed eels."
+
+"And you still run after the soldiers, is that so?"
+
+"All calumny on the part of wicked people; and after all, if I was to be
+flogged to death for it, I like soldiers."
+
+"Never mind your soldiers, we're the people to love; we have money."
+
+Imagine this gallant with his shaved crown, with fetters on his ankles,
+dressed in a coat of two colours, and watched by an escort.
+
+As I was now returning to the prison, my irons had been put on. I wished
+Akimitch good-bye and went away, escorted by a soldier. Those who do
+task work return first, and, when I got back to the barracks, a good
+number of convicts were already there.
+
+As the kitchen could not have held the whole barrack-full at once, we
+did not all dine together. Those who came in first were first served. I
+tasted the cabbage soup, but, not being used to it, could not eat it,
+and I prepared myself some tea. I sat down at one end of the table, with
+a convict of noble birth like myself. The prisoners were going in and
+out. There was no want of room, for there were not many of them. Five of
+them sat down apart from the large table. The cook gave them each two
+ladles full of soup, and brought them a plate of fried fish. These men
+were having a holiday. They looked at us in a friendly manner. One of
+the Poles came in and took his seat by our side.
+
+"I was not with you, but I know that you are having a feast," exclaimed
+a tall convict who now came in.
+
+He was a man of about fifty years, thin and muscular. His face indicated
+cunning, and, at the same time, liveliness. His lower lip, fleshy and
+pendant, gave him a soft expression.
+
+"Well, have you slept well? Why don't you say how do you do? Well, now
+my friends of Kursk," he said, sitting down by the side of the feasters,
+"good appetite? Here's a new guest for you."
+
+"We are not from the province of Kursk."
+
+"Then my friends from Tambof, let me say?"
+
+"We are not from Tambof either. You have nothing to claim from us; if
+you want to enjoy yourself go to some rich peasant."
+
+"I have Maria Ikotishna [from "ikot," hiccough] in my belly, otherwise I
+should die of hunger. But where is your peasant to be found?"
+
+"Good heavens! we mean Gazin; go to him."
+
+"Gazin is on the drink to-day, he's devouring his capital."
+
+"He has at least twenty roubles," says another convict. "It is
+profitable to keep a drinking shop."
+
+"You won't have me? Then I must eat the Government food."
+
+"Will you have some tea? If so, ask these noblemen for some."
+
+"Where do you see any noblemen? They're noblemen no longer. They're not
+a bit better than us," said in a sombre voice a convict who was seated
+in the corner, who hitherto had not risked a word.
+
+"I should like a cup of tea, but I am ashamed to ask for it. I have
+self-respect," said the convict with the heavy lip, looking at me with a
+good-humoured air.
+
+"I will give you some if you like," I said. "Will you have some?"
+
+"What do you mean--will I have some? Who would not have some?" he said,
+coming towards the table.
+
+"Only think! When he was free he ate nothing but cabbage soup and black
+bread, but now he is in prison he must have tea like a perfect
+gentleman," continued the convict with the sombre air.
+
+"Does no one here drink tea?" I asked him; but he did not think me
+worthy of a reply.
+
+"White rolls, white rolls; who'll buy?"
+
+A young prisoner was carrying in a net a load of calachi (scones), which
+he proposed to sell in the prison. For every ten that he sold, the baker
+gave him one for his trouble. It was precisely on this tenth scone that
+he counted for his dinner.
+
+"White rolls, white rolls," he cried, as he entered the kitchen, "white
+Moscow rolls, all hot. I would eat the whole of them, but I want money,
+lots of money. Come, lads, there is only one left for any of you who has
+had a mother."
+
+This appeal to filial love made every one laugh, and several of his
+white rolls were purchased.
+
+"Well," he said, "Gazin has drunk in such a style, it is quite a sin. He
+has chosen a nice moment too. If the man with the eight eyes should
+arrive--we shall hide him."
+
+"Is he very drunk?"
+
+"Yes, and ill-tempered too--unmanageable."
+
+"There will be some fighting, then?"
+
+"Whom are they speaking of?" I said to the Pole, my neighbour.
+
+"Of Gazin. He is a prisoner who sells spirits. When he has gained a
+little money by his trade, he drinks it to the last kopeck; a cruel,
+malicious animal when he has been drinking. When sober, he is quiet
+enough, but when he is in drink he shows himself in his true character.
+He attacks people with the knife until it is taken from him."
+
+"How do they manage that?"
+
+"Ten men throw themselves upon him and beat him like a sack without
+mercy until he loses consciousness. When he is half dead with the
+beating, they lay him down on his plank bedstead, and cover him over
+with his pelisse."
+
+"But they might kill him."
+
+"Any one else would die of it, but not he. He is excessively robust; he
+is the strongest of all the convicts. His constitution is so solid, that
+the day after one of these punishments he gets up perfectly sound."
+
+"Tell me, please," I continued, speaking to the Pole, "why these people
+keep their food to themselves, and at the same time seem to envy me my
+tea."
+
+"Your tea has nothing to do with it. They are envious of you. Are you
+not a gentleman? You in no way resemble them. They would be glad to pick
+a quarrel with you in order to humiliate you. You don't know what
+annoyances you will have to undergo. It is martyrdom for men like us to
+be here. Our life is doubly painful, and great strength of character can
+alone accustom one to it. You will be vexed and tormented in all sorts
+of ways on account of your food and your tea. Although the number of men
+who buy their own food and drink tea daily is large enough, they have a
+right to do so, you have not."
+
+He got up and left the table a few minutes later. His predictions were
+already being fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_).
+
+
+Hardly had M. --cki--the Pole to whom I had been speaking--gone out when
+Gazin, completely drunk, threw himself all in a heap into the kitchen.
+
+To see a convict drunk in the middle of the day, when every one was
+about to be sent out to work--given the well-known severity of the
+Major, who at any moment might come to the barracks, the watchfulness of
+the under officer who never left the prison, the presence of the old
+soldiers and the sentinels--all this quite upset the ideas I had formed
+of our prison; and a long time passed before I was able to understand
+and explain to myself the effects, which in the first instance were
+enigmatic indeed.
+
+I have already said that all the convicts had a private occupation, and
+that this occupation was for them a natural and imperious one. They are
+passionately fond of money, and think more of it than of anything
+else--almost as much as of liberty. The convict is half-consoled if he
+can ring a few kopecks in his pocket. On the contrary, he is sad,
+restless, and despondent if he has no money. He is ready then to commit
+no matter what crime in order to get some. Nevertheless, in spite of the
+importance it possesses for the convicts, money does not remain long in
+their pockets. It is difficult to keep it. Sometimes it is confiscated,
+sometimes stolen. When the Major, in a sudden perquisition, discovered a
+small sum amassed with great trouble, he confiscated it. It may be that
+he laid it out in improving the food of the prisoners, for all the money
+taken from them went into his hands. But generally speaking it was
+stolen. A means of preserving it was, however, discovered. An old man
+from Starodoub, one of the "old believers," took upon himself to conceal
+the convicts' savings.
+
+I cannot resist my desire to say some words about this man, although it
+takes me away from my story. He was about sixty years old, thin, and
+getting very gray. He excited my curiosity the first time I saw him, for
+he was not like any of the others; his look was so tranquil and mild,
+and I always saw with pleasure his clear and limpid eyes, surrounded by
+a number of little wrinkles. I often talked with him, and rarely have I
+met with so kind, so benevolent a being. He had been consigned to hard
+labour for a serious crime. A certain number of the "old believers" at
+Starodoub had been converted to the orthodox religion. The Government
+had done everything to encourage them, and, at the same time, to convert
+the other dissenters. The old man and some other fanatics had resolved
+to "defend the faith." When the orthodox church was being constructed in
+their town they set fire to the building. This offence had brought upon
+its author the sentence of deportation. This well-to-do shopkeeper--he
+was in trade--had left a wife and family whom he loved, and had gone off
+courageously into exile, believing in his blindness that he was
+"suffering for the faith."
+
+When one had lived some time by the side of this kind old man, one could
+not help asking the question, how could he have rebelled? I spoke to him
+several times about his faith. He gave up none of his convictions, but
+in his answers I never noticed the slightest hatred; and yet he had
+destroyed a church, and was far from denying it. In his view, the
+offence he had committed and his martyrdom were things to be proud of.
+
+There were other "old believers" among the convicts--Siberians for the
+most part--men of well-developed intelligence, and as cunning as all
+peasants. Dialecticians in their way, they followed blindly their law,
+and delighted in discussing it. But they had great faults; they were
+haughty, proud, and very intolerant. The old man in no way resembled
+them. With full more belief in religious exposition than others of the
+same faith, he avoided all controversy. As he was of a gay and expansive
+disposition he often laughed--not with the coarse cynical laugh of the
+other convicts, but with a laugh of clearness and simplicity, in which
+there was something of the child, and which harmonised perfectly with
+his gray head. I may perhaps be in error, but it seems to me that a man
+may be known by his laugh alone. If the laugh of a man you are
+acquainted with inspires you with sympathy, be assured that he is an
+honest man.
+
+The old man had acquired the respect of all the prisoners without
+exception; but he was not proud of it. The convicts called him
+grandfather, and he took no offence. I then understood what an influence
+he must have exercised on his co-religionists.
+
+In spite of the firmness with which he supported his prison life, one
+felt that he was tormented by a profound, incurable melancholy. I slept
+in the same barrack with him. One night, towards three o'clock in the
+morning, I woke up; I heard a slow, stifling sob. The old man was
+sitting upon the stove--the same place where the convict who had wished
+to kill the Major was in the habit of praying--and was reading from his
+manuscript prayer-book. As he wept I heard him repeating: "Lord, do not
+forsake me. Master, strengthen me. My poor little children, my dear
+little children, we shall never see one another again." I cannot say how
+much this moved me.
+
+We used to give our money then to this old man. Heaven knows how the
+idea got abroad in our barrack that he could not be robbed. It was well
+known that he hid somewhere the savings deposited with him, but no one
+had been able to discover his secret. He revealed it to us; to the
+Poles, and myself. One of the stakes of the palisade bore a branch which
+apparently belonged to it, but it could be taken away, and then replaced
+in the stake. When the branch was removed a hole could be seen. This was
+the hiding-place in question.
+
+I now resume the thread of my narrative. Why does not the convict save
+up his money? Not only is it difficult for him to keep it, but the
+prison life, moreover, is so sad that the convict by his very nature
+thirsts for freedom of action. By his position in society he is so
+irregular a being that the idea of swallowing up his capital in orgies,
+of intoxicating himself with revelry, seems to him quite natural if only
+he can procure himself one moment's forgetfulness. It was strange to see
+certain individuals bent over their labour only with the object of
+spending in one day all their gains, even to the last kopeck. Then they
+would go to work again until a new debauch, looked forward to months
+beforehand. Certain convicts were fond of new clothes, more or less
+singular in style, such as fancy trousers and waistcoats; but it was
+above all for the coloured shirts that the convicts had a pronounced
+taste; also for belts with metal clasps.
+
+On holidays the dandies of the prison put on their Sunday best. They
+were worth seeing as they strutted about their part of the barracks. The
+pleasure of feeling themselves well dressed amounted with them to
+childishness; indeed, in many things convicts are only children. Their
+fine clothes disappeared very soon, often the evening of the very day on
+which they had been bought. Their owners pledged them or sold them again
+for a trifle.
+
+The feasts were generally held at fixed times. They coincided with
+religious festivals, or with the name's day of the drunken convict. On
+getting up in the morning he would place a wax taper before the holy
+image, then he said his prayer, dressed, and ordered his dinner. He had
+bought beforehand meat, fish, and little patties; then he gorged like an
+ox, almost always alone. It was very rare to see a convict invite
+another convict to share his repast. At dinner the vodka was produced.
+The convict would suck it up like the sole of a boot, and then walk
+through the barracks swaggering and tottering. It was his desire to show
+all his companions that he was drunk, that he was carrying on, and thus
+obtain their particular esteem.
+
+The Russian people feel always a certain sympathy for a drunken man;
+among us it amounted really to esteem. In the convict prison
+intoxication was a sort of aristocratic distinction.
+
+As soon as he felt himself in spirits the convict ordered a musician. We
+had among us a little fellow--a deserter from the army--very ugly, but
+who was the happy possessor of a violin on which he could play. As he
+had no trade he was always ready to follow the festive convict from
+barrack to barrack grinding him out dance tunes with all his strength.
+His countenance often expressed the fatigue and disgust which his
+music--always the same--caused him; but when the prisoner called out to
+him, "Go on playing, are you not paid for it?" he attacked his violin
+more violently than ever. These drunkards felt sure that they would be
+taken care of, and in case of the Major arriving would be concealed from
+his watchful eyes. This service we rendered in the most disinterested
+spirit. On their side the under officer, and the old soldiers who
+remained in the prison to keep order, were perfectly reassured. The
+drunkard would cause no disturbance. At the least scare of revolt or
+riot he would have been quieted and then bound. Accordingly the inferior
+officers closed their eyes; they knew that if vodka was forbidden all
+would go wrong. How was this vodka procured?
+
+It was bought in the convict prison itself from the drink-sellers, as
+they were called, who followed this trade--a very lucrative
+one--although the tipplers were not very numerous, for revelry was
+expensive, especially when it is considered how hardly money was earned.
+The drink business was begun, continued, and ended in rather an original
+manner. The prisoner who knew no trade, would not work, and who,
+nevertheless, desired to get speedily rich, made up his mind, when he
+possessed a little money, to buy and sell vodka. The enterprise was
+risky, it required great daring, for the speculator hazarded his skin as
+well as liquor. But the drink-seller hesitated before no obstacles. At
+the outset he brought the vodka himself to the prison and got rid of it
+on the most advantageous terms. He repeated this operation a second and
+a third time. If he had not been discovered by the officials, he now
+possessed a sum which enabled him to extend his business. He became a
+capitalist with agents and assistants, he risked much less and gained
+much more. Then his assistants incurred risk in place of him.
+
+Prisons are always abundantly inhabited by ruined men without the habit
+of work, but endowed with skill and daring; their only capital is their
+back. They often decide to put it into circulation, and propose to the
+drink-seller to introduce vodka into the barracks. There is always in
+the town a soldier, a shopkeeper, or some loose woman who, for a
+stipulated sum--rather a small one--buys vodka with the drink-seller's
+money, hides it in a place known to the convict-smuggler, near the
+workshop where he is employed. The person who supplies the vodka, tastes
+the precious liquid almost always as he is carrying it to the
+hiding-place, and replaces relentlessly what he has drunk by pure water.
+The purchaser may take it or leave it, but he cannot give himself airs.
+He thinks himself very lucky that his money has not been stolen from
+him, and that he has received some kind of vodka in exchange. The man
+who is to take it into the prison--to whom the drink-seller has
+indicated the hiding-place--goes to the supplier with bullock's
+intestines which after being washed, have been filled with water, and
+which thus preserves their softness and suppleness. When the intestines
+have been filled with vodka, the smuggler rolls them round his body.
+Now, all the cunning, the adroitness of this daring convict is shown.
+The man's honour is at stake. It is necessary for him to take in the
+escort and the man on guard; and he will take them in. If the carrier is
+artful, the soldier of the escort--sometimes a recruit--does not notice
+anything particular; for the prisoner has studied him thoroughly,
+besides which he has artfully combined the hour and the place of
+meeting. If the convict--a bricklayer for example--climbs up on the wall
+that he is building, the escort will certainly not climb up after him to
+watch his movements. Who then, will see what he is about? On getting
+near the prison, he gets ready a piece of fifteen or twenty kopecks, and
+waits at the gate for the corporal on guard.
+
+The corporal examines, feels, and searches each convict on his return to
+the barracks, and then opens the gate to him. The carrier of the vodka
+hopes that he will be ashamed to examine him too much in detail; but if
+the corporal is a cunning fellow, that is just what he will do; and in
+that case he finds the contraband vodka. The convict has now only one
+chance of salvation. He slips into the hand of the under officer the
+piece of money he holds in readiness, and often, thanks to this
+manoeuvre, the vodka arrives safely in the hands of the drink-seller.
+But sometimes the trick does not succeed, and it is then that the sole
+capital of the smuggler enters really into circulation. A report is made
+to the Major, who sentences the unhappy culprit to a thorough flogging.
+As for the vodka, it is confiscated. The smuggler undergoes his
+punishment without betraying the speculator, not because such a
+denunciation would disgrace him, but because it would bring him nothing.
+He would be flogged all the same, the only consolation he could have
+would be that the drink-seller would share his punishment; but as he
+needs him, he does not denounce him, although having allowed himself to
+be surprised, he will receive no payment from him.
+
+Denunciation, however, flourishes in the convict prison. Far from
+hating spies or keeping apart from them, the prisoners often make
+friends of them. If any one had taken it into his head to prove to the
+convicts all the baseness of mutual denunciation, no one in the prison
+would have understood. The former nobleman of whom I have already
+spoken, that cowardly and violent creature with whom I had already
+broken off all relations immediately after my arrival in the fortress,
+was the friend of Fedka, the Major's body-servant. He used to tell him
+everything that took place in the convict prison, and this was naturally
+carried back to the servant's master. Every one knew it, but no one had
+the idea of showing any ill-will against the man, or of reproaching him
+with his conduct. When the vodka arrived without accident at the prison,
+the speculator paid the smuggler and made up his accounts. His
+merchandise had already cost him sufficiently dear; and that the profit
+might be greater, he diluted it by adding fifty per cent. of pure water.
+He was ready, and had only to wait for customers.
+
+The first holiday, perhaps even on a week-day, a convict would turn up.
+He had been working like a negro for many months in order to save up,
+kopeck by kopeck, a small sum which he was resolved to spend all at
+once. These days of rejoicing had been looked forward to long
+beforehand. He had dreamt of them during the endless winter nights,
+during his hardest labour, and the perspective had supported him under
+his severest trials. The dawn of this day so impatiently awaited, has
+just appeared. He has some money in his pocket. It has been neither
+stolen from him nor confiscated. He is free to spend it. Accordingly he
+takes his savings to the drink-seller, who, to begin with, gives vodka
+which is almost pure--it has been only twice baptized--but gradually, as
+the bottle gets more and more empty, he fills it up with water.
+Accordingly the convict pays for his vodka five or six times as much as
+he would in a tavern.
+
+It may be imagined how many glasses, and, above all, what sums of money
+are required before the convict is drunk. However, as he has lost the
+habit of drinking, the little alcohol which remains in the liquid
+intoxicates him rapidly enough; he goes on drinking until there is
+nothing left; he pledges or sells all his new clothes--for the
+drink-seller is at the same time a pawnbroker. As his personal garments
+are not very numerous he next pledges the clothes supplied to him by the
+Government. When the drink has made away with his last shirt, his last
+rag, he lies down and wakes up the next morning with a bad headache. In
+vain he begs the drink-seller to give him credit for a drop of vodka in
+order to remove his depression; he experiences a direct refusal. That
+very day he sets to work again. For several months together, he will
+weary himself out while looking forward to such a debauch as the one
+which has now disappeared in the past. Little by little he regains
+courage while waiting for such another day, still far off, but which
+ultimately will arrive. As for the drink-seller, if he has gained a
+large sum--some dozen of roubles--he procures some more vodka, but this
+time he does not baptize it, because he intends it for himself. Enough
+of trade! it is time for him to amuse himself. Accordingly he eats,
+drinks, pays for a little music--his means allow him to grease the palm
+of the inferior officers in the convict prison. This festival lasts
+sometimes for several days. When his stock of vodka is exhausted, he
+goes and drinks with the other drink-sellers who are waiting for him; he
+then drinks up his last kopeck.
+
+However careful the convicts may be in watching over their companions in
+debauchery, it sometimes happens that the Major or the officer on guard
+notices what is going on. The drunkard is then dragged to the
+orderly-room, his money is confiscated if he has any left, and he is
+flogged. The convict shakes himself like a beaten dog, returns to
+barracks, and, after a few days, resumes his trade as drink-seller.
+
+It sometimes happens that among the convicts there are admirers of the
+fair sex. For a sufficiently large sum of money they succeed,
+accompanied by a soldier whom they have corrupted, in getting secretly
+out of the fortress into a suburb instead of going to work. There in an
+apparently quiet house a banquet is held at which large sums of money
+are spent. The convicts' money is not to be despised, accordingly the
+soldiers will sometimes arrange these temporary escapes beforehand, sure
+as they are of being generously recompensed. Generally speaking these
+soldiers are themselves candidates for the convict prison. The escapades
+are scarcely ever discovered. I must add that they are very rare, for
+they are very expensive, and the admirers of the fair sex are obliged to
+have recourse to other less costly means.
+
+At the beginning of my stay, a young convict with very regular features
+excited my curiosity; his name was Sirotkin, he was in many respects an
+enigmatic being. His face had struck me, he was not more than
+twenty-three years of age, and he belonged to the special section; that
+is to say, he was condemned to hard labour in perpetuity. He accordingly
+was to be looked upon as one of the most dangerous of military
+criminals. Mild and tranquil, he spoke little and rarely laughed; his
+blue eyes, his clear complexion, his fair hair gave him a soft
+expression, which even his shaven crown did not destroy. Although he had
+no trade, he managed to get himself money from time to time. He was
+remarkably lazy, and always dressed like a sloven; but if any one was
+generous enough to present him with a red shirt, he was beside himself
+with joy at having a new garment, and he exhibited it everywhere.
+Sirotkin neither drank nor played, and he scarcely ever quarrelled with
+the other convicts. He walked about with his hands in his pockets
+peacefully, and with a pensive air. What he was thinking of I cannot
+say. When any one called to him, to ask him a question, he replied with
+deference, precisely, without chattering like the others. He had in his
+eyes the expression of a child of ten; when he had money he bought
+nothing of what the others looked upon as indispensable. His vest might
+be torn, he did not get it mended, any more than he bought himself new
+boots. What particularly pleased him were the little white rolls and
+gingerbread, which he would eat with the satisfaction of a child of
+seven. When he was not at work he wandered about the barracks; when
+every one else was occupied, he remained with his arms by his sides; if
+any one joked with him, or laughed at him--which happened often
+enough--he turned on his heel without speaking and went elsewhere. If
+the pleasantry was too strong he blushed. I often asked myself for what
+crime he could have been condemned to hard labour. One day when I was
+ill, and lying in the hospital, Sirotkin was also there, stretched out
+on a bedstead not far from me. I entered into conversation with him; he
+became animated, and told me freely how he had been taken for a soldier,
+how his mother had followed him in tears, and what treatment he had
+endured in military service. He added that he had never been able to
+accustom himself to this life; every one was severe and angry with him
+about nothing, his officers were always against him.
+
+"But why did they send you here?--and into the special section above
+all! Ah, Sirotkin!"
+
+"Yes, Alexander Petrovitch, although I was only one year with the
+battalion, I was sent here for killing my captain, Gregory Petrovitch."
+
+"I heard about that, but I did not believe it; how was it that you
+killed him?"
+
+"All that was told you was true; my life was insupportable."
+
+"But the other recruits supported it well enough. It is very hard at the
+beginning, but men get accustomed to it and end by becoming excellent
+soldiers. Your mother must have pampered you and spoiled you. I am sure
+that she fed you with gingerbread and with sweet milk until you were
+eighteen."
+
+"My mother, it is true, was very fond of me. When I left her she took
+to her bed and remained there. How painful to me everything in my
+military life was; after that all went wrong. I was perpetually being
+punished, and why? I obeyed every one, I was exact, careful. I did not
+drink, I borrowed from no one--it's all up with a man when he begins to
+borrow--and yet every one around me was harsh and cruel. I sometimes hid
+myself in a corner and did nothing but sob. One day, or rather one
+night, I was on guard. It was autumn: there was a strong wind, and it
+was so dark that you could not see a speck, and I was sad, so sad! I
+took the bayonet from the end of my musket and placed it by my side.
+Then I put the barrel to my breast and with my big toe--I had taken my
+boot off--pressed the trigger. It missed fire. I looked at my musket and
+loaded it with a charge of fresh powder. Then I broke off the corner of
+my flint, and once more I placed the muzzle against my breast. Again
+there was a misfire. What was I to do? I said to myself. I put my boot
+on, I fastened my bayonet to the barrel, and walked up and down with my
+musket on my shoulder. Let them do what they like, I said to myself; but
+I will not be a soldier any longer. Half-an-hour afterwards the captain
+arrived, making his rounds. He came straight upon me. 'Is that the way
+you carry yourself when you are on guard?' I seized my musket, and stuck
+the bayonet into his body. Then I had to walk forty-six versts. That is
+how I came to be in the special section."
+
+He was telling no falsehood, yet I did not understand how they could
+have sent him there; such crimes deserve a much less severe punishment.
+Sirotkin was the only one of the convicts who was really handsome. As
+for his companions of the special section--to the number of
+fifteen--they were frightful to behold with their hideous, disgusting
+physiognomies. Gray heads were plentiful among them. I shall speak of
+these men further on. Sirotkin was often on good terms with Gazin, the
+drink-seller, of whom I have already spoken at the beginning of this
+chapter.
+
+This Gazin was a terrible being; the impression that he produced on
+every one was confusing or appalling. It seemed to me that a more
+ferocious, a more monstrous creature could not exist. Yet I have seen at
+Tobolsk, Kameneff, the brigand, celebrated for his crimes. Later, I saw
+Sokoloff, the escaped convict, formerly a deserter, who was a ferocious
+creature; but neither of them inspired me with so much disgust as Gazin.
+I often fancied that I had before my eyes an enormous, gigantic spider
+of the size of a man. He was a Tartar, and there was no convict so
+strong as he was. It was less by his great height and his herculean
+construction, than by his enormous and deformed head, that he inspired
+terror. The strangest reports were current about him. Some said that he
+had been a soldier, others that he had escaped from Nertchinsk, and that
+he had been exiled several times to Siberia, but had always succeeded in
+getting away. Landing at last in our convict prison, he belonged there
+to the special section. It appeared that he had taken a pleasure in
+killing little children when he had attracted them to some deserted
+place; then he frightened them, tortured them, and after having fully
+enjoyed the terror and the convulsions of the poor little things, he
+killed them resolutely and with delight. These horrors had perhaps been
+imagined by reason of the painful impression that the monster produced
+upon us; but they seemed probable, and harmonised with his physiognomy.
+Nevertheless, when Gazin was not drunk, he conducted himself well
+enough.
+
+He was always quiet, never quarrelled, avoided all disputes as if from
+contempt for his companions, just as though he had entertained a high
+opinion of himself. He spoke very little, all his movements were
+measured, calm, resolute. His look was not without intelligence, but its
+expression was cruel and derisive like his smile. Of all the convicts
+who sold vodka, he was the richest. Twice a year he got completely
+drunk, and it was then that all his brutal ferocity exhibited itself.
+Little by little he got excited, and began to tease the prisoners with
+venomous satire prepared long beforehand. Finally when he was quite
+drunk, he had attacks of furious rage, and, seizing a knife, would rush
+upon his companions. The convicts who knew his herculean vigour, avoided
+him and protected themselves against him, for he would throw himself on
+the first person he met. A means of disarming him had been discovered.
+Some dozen prisoners would rush suddenly upon Gazin, and give him
+violent blows in the pit of the stomach, in the belly, and generally
+beneath the region of the heart, until he lost consciousness. Any one
+else would have died under such treatment, but Gazin soon got well. When
+he had been well beaten they would wrap him up in his pelisse, and throw
+him upon his plank bedstead, leaving him to digest his drink. The next
+day he woke up almost well, and went to his work silent and sombre.
+Every time that Gazin got drunk, all the prisoners knew how his day
+would finish. He knew also, but he drank all the same. Several years
+passed in this way. Then it was noticed that Gazin had lost his energy,
+and that he was beginning to get weak. He did nothing but groan,
+complaining of all kinds of illnesses. His visits to the hospital became
+more and more frequent. "He is giving in," said the prisoners.
+
+At one time Gazin had gone into the kitchen followed by the little
+fellow who scraped the violin, and whom the convicts in their
+festivities used to hire to play to them. He stopped in the middle of
+the hall silently examining his companions one after another. No one
+breathed a word. When he saw me with my companions, he looked at us in
+his malicious, jeering style, and smiled horribly with the air of a man
+who was satisfied with a good joke that he had just thought of. He
+approached our table, tottering.
+
+"Might I ask," he said, "where you get the money which allows you to
+drink tea?"
+
+I exchanged a look with my neighbour. I understood that the best thing
+for us was to be silent, and not to answer. The least contradiction
+would have put Gazin in a passion.
+
+"You must have money," he continued, "you must have a good deal of money
+to drink tea; but, tell me, are you sent to hard labour to drink tea? I
+say, did you come here for that purpose? Please answer, I should like to
+know."
+
+Seeing that we were resolved on silence, and that we had determined not
+to pay any attention to him, he ran towards us, livid and trembling with
+rage. At two steps' distance, he saw a heavy box, which served to hold
+the bread given for the dinner and supper of the convicts. Its contents
+were sufficient for the meal of half the prisoners. At this moment it
+was empty. He seized it with both hands and brandished it above our
+heads. Although murder, or attempted, was an inexhaustible source of
+trouble for the convicts--examinations, counter-examinations, and
+inquiries without end would be the natural consequence--and though
+quarrels were generally cut short, when they did not lead to such
+serious results, yet every one remained silent and waited.
+
+Not one word in our favour, not one cry against Gazin. The hatred of all
+the prisoners for all who were of gentle birth was so great that every
+one of them was evidently pleased to see that we were in danger. But a
+fortunate incident terminated this scene, which must have become tragic.
+Gazin was about to let fly the enormous box, which he was turning and
+twisting above his head, when a convict ran in from the barracks, and
+cried out:
+
+"Gazin, they have stolen your vodka!"
+
+The horrible brigand let fall the box with a frightful oath, and ran out
+of the kitchen.
+
+"Well, God has saved them," said the prisoners among themselves,
+repeating the words several times.
+
+I never knew whether his vodka had been stolen, or whether it was only a
+stratagem invented to save us.
+
+That same evening, before the closing of the barracks, when it was
+already dark, I walked to the side of the palisade. A heavy feeling of
+sadness weighed upon my soul. During all the time that I passed in the
+convict prison I never felt myself so miserable as on that evening,
+though the first day is always the hardest, whether at hard labour or in
+the prison. One thought in particular had left me no respite since my
+deportation--a question insoluble then and insoluble now. I reflected on
+the inequality of the punishments inflicted for the same crimes. Often,
+indeed, one crime cannot be compared even approximately to another. Two
+murderers kill a man under circumstances which in each case are minutely
+examined and weighed. They each receive the same punishment; and yet by
+what an abyss are their two actions separated! One has committed a
+murder for a trifle--for an onion. He has killed on the high-road a
+peasant who was passing, and found on him an onion, and nothing else.
+
+"Well, I was sent to hard labour for a peasant who had nothing but an
+onion!"
+
+"Fool that you are! an onion is worth a kopeck. If you had killed a
+hundred peasants you would have had a hundred kopecks, or one rouble."
+The above is a prison joke.
+
+Another criminal has killed a debauchee who was oppressing or
+dishonouring his wife, his sister, or his daughter.
+
+A third, a vagabond, half dead with hunger, pursued by a whole band of
+police, was defending his liberty, his life. He is to be regarded as on
+an equality with the brigand who assassinates children for his
+amusement, for the pleasure of feeling their warm blood flow over his
+hands, of seeing them shudder in a last bird-like palpitation beneath
+the knife which tears their flesh!
+
+They will all alike be sent to hard labour; though the sentence will
+perhaps not be for the same number of years. But the variations in the
+punishment are not very numerous, whereas different kinds of crimes may
+be reckoned by thousands. As many characters, so many crimes.
+
+Let us admit that it is impossible to get rid of this first inequality
+in punishment, that the problem is insoluble, and that in connection
+with penal matters it is the squaring of the circle. Let all that be
+admitted; but even if this inequality cannot be avoided, there is
+another thing to be thought of--the consequences of the punishment. Here
+is a man who is wasting away like a candle; there is another one, on the
+contrary, who had no idea before going into exile that there could be
+such a gay, such an idle life, where he would find a circle of such
+agreeable friends. Individuals of this latter class are to be found in
+the convict prison.
+
+Now take a man of heart, of cultivated mind, and of delicate conscience.
+What he feels kills him more certainly than the material punishment. The
+judgment which he himself pronounces on his crime is more pitiless than
+that of the most severe tribunal, the most Draconian law. He lives by
+the side of another convict, who has not once reflected on the murder he
+is expiating, during the whole time of his sojourn in the convict
+prison. He, perhaps, even considers himself innocent. Are there not,
+also, poor devils who commit crimes in order to be sent to hard labour,
+and thus to escape the liberty which is much more painful than
+confinement? A man's life is miserable, he has never, perhaps, been able
+to satisfy his hunger. He is worked to death in order to enrich his
+master. In the convict prison his work will be less severe, less
+crushing. He will eat as much as he wants, better than he could ever
+have hoped to eat, had he remained free. On holidays he will have meat,
+and fine people will give him alms, and his evening's work will bring
+him in some money. And the society one meets with in the convict prison,
+is that to be counted for nothing? The convicts are clever, wide-awake
+people, who are up to everything. The new arrival can scarcely conceal
+the admiration he feels for his companions in labour. He has seen
+nothing like it before, and he will consider himself in the best
+company possible.
+
+Is it possible that men so differently situated can feel in an equal
+degree the punishment inflicted? But why think about questions that are
+insoluble? The drum beats, let us go back to barracks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+FIRST IMPRESSIONS (_continued_)
+
+
+We were between walls once more. The doors of the barracks were locked,
+each with a particular padlock, and the prisoners remained shut up till
+the next morning.
+
+The verification was made by a non-commissioned officer accompanied by
+two soldiers. When by chance an officer was present, the convicts were
+drawn up in the court-yard, but generally speaking they were identified
+in the buildings. As the soldiers often made mistakes, they went out and
+came back in order to count us again and again, until their reckoning
+was satisfactory, then the barracks were closed. Each one contained
+about thirty prisoners, and we were very closely packed in our camp
+bedsteads. As it was too soon to go to sleep, the convicts occupied
+themselves with work.
+
+Besides the old soldier of whom I have spoken, who slept in our
+dormitory, and represented there the administration of the prison, there
+was in our barrack another old soldier wearing a medal as rewarded for
+good conduct. It happened often enough, however, that the good-conduct
+men themselves committed offences for which they were sentenced to be
+whipped. They then lost their rank, and were immediately replaced by
+comrades whose conduct was considered satisfactory.
+
+Our good-conduct man was no other than Akim Akimitch. To my great
+astonishment, he was very rough with the prisoners, but they only
+replied by jokes. The other old soldier, more prudent, interfered with
+no one, and if he opened his mouth, it was only as a matter of form, as
+an affair of duty. For the most part he remained silent, seated on his
+little bedstead, occupied in mending his own boots.
+
+That day I could not help making to myself an observation, the accuracy
+of which became afterwards apparent: that all those who are not convicts
+and who have to deal with them, whoever they may be--beginning with the
+soldiers of the escort and the sentinels--look upon the convicts in a
+false and exaggerated light, expecting that for a yes or a no, these men
+will throw themselves upon them knife in hand. The prisoners, perfectly
+conscious of the fear they inspire, show a certain arrogance.
+Accordingly, the best prison director is the one who experiences no
+emotion in their presence. In spite of the airs they give themselves,
+the convicts prefer that confidence should be placed in them. By such
+means, indeed, they may be conciliated. I have more than once had
+occasion to notice their astonishment at an official entering their
+prison without an escort, and certainly their astonishment was not
+unflattering. A visitor who is intrepid imposes respect. If anything
+unfortunate happens, it will not be in his presence. The terror inspired
+by the convicts is general, and yet I saw no foundation for it. Is it
+the appearance of the prisoner, his brigand-like look, that causes a
+certain repugnance? Is it not rather the feeling that invades you
+directly you enter the prison, that in spite of all efforts, all
+precautions, it is impossible to turn a living man into a corpse, to
+stifle his feelings, his thirst for vengeance and for life, his
+passions, and his imperious desire to satisfy them? However that may be,
+I declare that there is no reason for fearing the convicts. A man does
+not throw himself so quickly nor so easily upon his fellow-man, knife in
+hand. Few accidents happen; sometimes they are so rare that the danger
+may be looked upon as non-existent.
+
+I speak, it must be understood, only of prisoners already condemned,
+who are undergoing their punishment, and some of whom are almost happy
+to find themselves in the convict prison; so attractive under all
+circumstances is a new form of life. These latter live quiet and
+contented. As for the turbulent ones, the convicts themselves keep them
+in restraint, and their arrogance never goes too far. The prisoner,
+audacious and reckless as he may be, is afraid of every official
+connected with the prison. It is by no means the same with the accused
+whose fate has not been decided. Such a one is quite capable of
+attacking, no matter whom, without any motive of hatred, and solely
+because he is to be whipped the next day. If, indeed, he commits a fresh
+crime his offence becomes complicated. Punishment is delayed, and he
+gains time. The act of aggression is explained; it has a cause, an
+object. The convict wishes at all hazards to change his fate, and that
+as soon as possible. In connection with this, I myself have witnessed a
+physiological fact of the strangest kind.
+
+In the section of military convicts was an old soldier who had been
+condemned to two years' hard labour, a great boaster, and at the same
+time a coward. Generally speaking, the Russian soldier does not boast.
+He has no time for doing so, even had he the inclination. When such a
+one appears among a multitude of others, he is always a coward and a
+rogue. Dutoff--that was the name of the prisoner of whom I am
+speaking--underwent his punishment, and then went back to the same
+battalion in the Line; but, like all who are sent to the convict prison
+to be corrected, he had been thoroughly corrupted. A "return horse"
+re-appears in the convict prison after two or three weeks' liberty, not
+for a comparatively short time, but for fifteen or twenty years. So it
+happened in the case of Dutoff. Three weeks after he had been set at
+liberty, he robbed one of his comrades, and was, moreover, mutinous. He
+was taken before a court-martial and sentenced to a severe form of
+corporal punishment. Horribly frightened, like the coward that he was,
+at the prospect of punishment, he threw himself, knife in hand, on to
+the officer of the guard, as he entered his dungeon on the eve of the
+day that he was to run the gauntlet through the men of his company. He
+quite understood that he was aggravating his offence, and that the
+duration of his punishment would be increased; but all he wanted was to
+postpone for some days, or at least for some hours, a terrible moment.
+He was such a coward that he did not even wound the officer whom he had
+attacked. He had, indeed, only committed this assault in order to add a
+new crime to the last already against him, and thus defer the sentence.
+
+The moment preceding the punishment is terrible for the man condemned to
+the rods. I have seen many of them on the eve of the fatal day. I
+generally met with them in the hospital when I was ill, which happened
+often enough. In Russia the people who show most compassion for the
+convicts are certainly the doctors, who never make between the prisoners
+the distinctions observed by other persons brought into direct relations
+with them. In this respect the common people can alone be compared with
+the doctors, for they never reproach a criminal with the crime that he
+has committed, whatever it may be. They forgive him in consideration of
+the sentence passed upon him.
+
+Is it not known that the common people throughout Russia call crime a
+"misfortune," and the criminal an "unfortunate"? This definition is
+expressive, profound, and, moreover, unconscious, instinctive. To the
+doctor the convicts have naturally recourse, above all when they are to
+undergo corporal punishment. The prisoner who has been before a
+court-martial knows pretty well at what moment his sentence will be
+executed. To escape it he gets himself sent to the hospital, in order to
+postpone for some days the terrible moment. When he is declared restored
+to health, he knows that the day after he leaves the hospital this
+moment will arrive. Accordingly, on quitting the hospital the convict is
+always in a state of agitation. Some of them may endeavour from vanity
+to conceal their anxiety, but no one is taken in by that; every one
+understands the cruelty of such a moment, and is silent from humane
+motives.
+
+I knew one young convict, an ex-soldier, sentenced for murder, who was
+to receive the maximum of rods. The eve of the day on which he was to be
+flogged, he had resolved to drink a bottle of vodka in which he had
+infused a quantity of snuff.
+
+The prisoner condemned to the rods always drinks, before the critical
+moment arrives, a certain amount of spirits which he has procured long
+beforehand, and often at a fabulous price. He would deprive himself of
+the necessaries of life for six months rather than not be in a position
+to swallow half a pint of vodka before the flogging. The convicts are
+convinced that a drunken man suffers less from the sticks or whip than
+one who is in cold blood.
+
+I will return to my narrative. The poor devil felt ill a few moments
+after he had swallowed his bottle of vodka. He vomited blood, and was
+carried in a state of unconsciousness to the hospital. His lungs were so
+much injured by this accident that phthisis declared itself, and carried
+off the soldier in a few months. The doctors who had attended him never
+knew the origin of his illness.
+
+If examples of cowardice are not rare among the prisoners, it must be
+added that there are some whose intrepidity is quite astounding. I
+remember many instances of courage pushed to the extreme. The arrival in
+the hospital of a terrible bandit remains fixed in my memory.
+
+One fine summer day the report was spread in the infirmary that the
+famous prisoner, Orloff, was to be flogged the same evening, and that he
+would be brought afterwards to the hospital. The prisoners who were
+already there said that the punishment would be a cruel one, and every
+one--including myself I must admit--was awaiting with curiosity the
+arrival of this brigand, about whom the most unheard-of things were
+told. He was a malefactor of a rare kind, capable of assassinating in
+cold blood old men and children. He possessed an indomitable force of
+will, and was fully conscious of his power. As he had been guilty of
+several crimes, they had condemned him to be flogged through the ranks.
+
+He was brought, or, rather carried, in towards evening. The place was
+already dark. Candles were lighted. Orloff was excessively pale, almost
+unconscious, with his thick curly hair of dull black without the least
+brilliancy. His back was skinned and swollen, blue, and stained with
+blood. The prisoners nursed him throughout the night; they changed his
+poultices, placed him on his side, prepared for him the lotion ordered
+by the doctor; in a word, showed as much solicitude for him as for a
+relation or benefactor.
+
+Next day he had fully recovered his faculties, and took one or two turns
+round the room. I was much astonished, for he was broken down and
+powerless when he was brought in. He had received half the number of
+blows ordered by the sentence. The doctor had stopped the punishment,
+convinced that if it were continued Orloff's death would inevitably
+ensue.
+
+This criminal was of a feeble constitution, weakened by long
+imprisonment. Whoever has seen prisoners after having been flogged, will
+remember their thin, drawn-out features and their feverish looks. Orloff
+soon recovered his powerful energy, which enabled him to get over his
+physical weakness. He was no ordinary man. From curiosity I made his
+acquaintance, and was able to study him at leisure for an entire week.
+Never in my life did I meet a man whose will was more firm or
+inflexible.
+
+I had seen at Tobolsk a celebrity of the same kind--a former chief of
+brigands. This man was a veritable wild beast; by being near him,
+without even knowing him, it was impossible not to recognise in him a
+dangerous creature. What above all frightened me was his stupidity.
+Matter, in this man, had taken such an ascendant over mind, that one
+could see at a glance that he cared for nothing in the world but the
+brutal satisfaction of his physical wants. I was certain, however, that
+Kareneff--that was his name--would have fainted on being condemned to
+such rigorous corporal punishment as Orloff had undergone; and that he
+would have murdered the first man near him without blinking.
+
+Orloff, on the contrary, was a brilliant example of the victory of
+spirit over matter. He had a perfect command over himself. He despised
+punishment, and feared nothing in the world. His dominant characteristic
+was boundless energy, a thirst for vengeance, and an immovable will when
+he had some object to attain.
+
+I was not astonished at his haughty air. He looked down upon all around
+him from the height of his grandeur. Not that he took the trouble to
+pose; his pride was an innate quality. I don't think that anything had
+the least influence over him. He looked upon everything with the calmest
+eye, as if nothing in the world could astonish him. He knew well that
+the other prisoners respected him; but he never took advantage of it to
+give himself airs.
+
+Nevertheless, vanity and conceit are defects from which scarcely any
+convict is exempt. He was intelligent and strangely frank in talking too
+much about himself. He replied point-blank to all the questions I put to
+him, and confessed to me that he was waiting impatiently for his return
+to health in order to take the remainder of the punishment he was to
+undergo.
+
+"Now," he said to me with a wink, "it is all over. I shall have the
+remainder, and shall be sent to Nertchinsk with a convoy of prisoners. I
+shall profit by it to escape. I shall get away beyond doubt. If only my
+back would heal a little quicker!"
+
+For five days he was burning with impatience to be in a condition for
+leaving the hospital At times he was gay and in the best of humours. I
+profited by these rare occasions to question him about his adventures.
+
+Then he would contract his eyebrows a little; but he always answered my
+questions in a straightforward manner. When he understood that I was
+endeavouring to see through him, and to discover in him some trace of
+repentance, he looked at me with a haughty and contemptuous air, as if I
+were a foolish little boy, to whom he did too much honour by conversing
+with him.
+
+I detected in his countenance a sort of compassion for me. After a
+moment's pause he laughed out loud, but without the least irony. I fancy
+he must, more than once, have laughed in the same manner, when my words
+returned to his memory. At last he wrote down his name as cured,
+although his back was not yet entirely healed. As I also was almost
+well, we left the infirmary together and returned to the convict prison,
+while he was shut up in the guard-room, where he had been imprisoned
+before. When he left me he shook me by the hand, which in his eyes was a
+great mark of confidence. I fancy he did so, because at that moment he
+was in a good humour. But in reality he must have despised me, for I was
+a feeble being, contemptible in all respects, and guilty above all of
+resignation. The next day he underwent the second half of his
+punishment.
+
+When the gates of the barracks had been closed, it assumed, in less than
+no time, quite another aspect--that of a private house, of quite a home.
+Then only did I see my convict comrades at their ease. During the day
+the under officers, or some of the other authorities, might suddenly
+arrive, so that the prisoners were then always on the look-out. They
+were only half at their ease. As soon, however, as the bolts had been
+pushed and the gates padlocked, every one sat down in his place and
+began to work. The barrack was lighted up in an unexpected manner. Each
+convict had his candle and his wooden candlestick. Some of them stitched
+boots, others sewed different kinds of garments. The air, already
+mephitic, became more and more impure.
+
+Some of the prisoners, huddled together in a corner, played at cards on
+a piece of carpet. In each barrack there was a prisoner who possessed a
+small piece of carpet, a candle, and a pack of horribly greasy cards.
+The owner of the cards received from the players fifteen kopecks [about
+sixpence] a night. They generally played at the "three leaves"--Gorka,
+that is to say: a game of chance. Each player placed before him a pile
+of copper money--all that he possessed--and did not get up until he had
+lost it or had broken the bank.
+
+Playing was continued until late at night; sometimes the dawn found the
+gamblers still at their game. Often, indeed, it did not cease until a
+few minutes before the opening of the gates. In our room--as in all the
+others--there were beggars ruined by drink and play, or rather beggars
+innate--I say innate, and maintain my expression. Indeed, in our
+country, and in all classes, there are, and always will be, strange
+easy-going people whose destiny it is to remain always beggars. They are
+poor devils all their lives; quite broken down, they remain under the
+domination or guardianship of some one, generally a prodigal, or a man
+who has suddenly made his fortune. All initiative is for them an
+insupportable burden. They only exist on condition of undertaking
+nothing for themselves, and by serving, always living under the will of
+another. They are destined to act by and through others. Under no
+circumstances, even of the most unexpected kind, can they get rich; they
+are always beggars. I have met these persons in all classes of society,
+in all coteries, in all associations, including the literary world.
+
+As soon as a party was made up, one of these beggars, quite
+indispensable to the game, was summoned. He received five kopecks for a
+whole night's employment; and what employment it was! His duty was to
+keep guard in the vestibule, with thirty degrees (Reaumur) of frost, in
+total darkness, for six or seven hours. The man on watch had to listen
+for the slightest noise, for the Major or one of the other officers of
+the guard would sometimes make a round rather late in the night. They
+arrived secretly, and sometimes discovered the players and the watchers
+in the act--thanks to the light of the candles, which could be seen from
+the court-yard.
+
+When the key was heard grinding in the padlock which closed the gate, it
+was too late to put the lights out and lie down on the plank bedsteads.
+Such surprises were, however, rare. Five kopecks was a ridiculous
+payment even in our convict prison, and the exigency and hardness of the
+gamblers astonished me in this as in many cases: "You are paid, you must
+do what you are told." This was the argument, and it admitted of no
+reply. To have paid a few kopecks to any one gave the right to turn him
+to the best possible account, and even to claim his gratitude. More than
+once it happened to me to see the convicts spend their money
+extravagantly, throwing it away on all sides, and, at the same time,
+cheat the man employed to watch. I have seen this in several barracks on
+many occasions.
+
+I have already said that, with the exception of the gamblers, every one
+worked. Five only of the convicts remained completely idle, and went to
+bed on the first opportunity. My sleeping place was near the door. Next
+to me was Akim Akimitch, and when we were lying down our heads touched.
+He used to work until ten or eleven at making, by pasting together
+pieces of paper, multicolour lanterns, which some one living in the town
+had ordered from him, and for which he used to be well paid. He excelled
+in this kind of work, and did it methodically and regularly. When he had
+finished he put away carefully his tools, unfolded his mattress, said
+his prayers, and went to sleep with the sleep of the just. He carried
+his love of order even to pedantry, and must have thought himself in his
+inner heart a man of brains, as is generally the case with narrow,
+mediocre persons. I did not like him the first day, although he gave me
+much to think of. I was astonished that such a man could be found in a
+convict prison. I shall speak of Akimitch further on in the course of
+this book.
+
+But I must now continue to describe the persons with whom I was to live
+a number of years. Those who surrounded me were to be my companions
+every minute, and it will be understood that I looked upon them with
+anxious curiosity.
+
+On my left slept a band of mountaineers from the Caucasus, nearly all
+exiled for brigandage, but condemned to different punishments. There
+were two Lesghians, a Circassian, and three Tartars from Daghestan. The
+Circassian was a morose and sombre person. He scarcely ever spoke, and
+looked at you sideways with a sly, sulky, wild-beast-like expression.
+One of the Lesghians, an old man with an aquiline nose, tall and thin,
+seemed to be a true brigand; but the other Lesghian, Nourra by name,
+made a most favourable impression upon me. Of middle height, still
+young, built like a Hercules, with fair hair and violet eyes; he had a
+slightly turned up nose, while his features were somewhat of a Finnish
+cast. Like all horsemen, he walked with his toes in. His body was
+striped with scars, ploughed by bayonet wounds and bullets. Although he
+belonged to the conquered part of the Caucasus, he had joined the
+rebels, with whom he used to make continual incursions into our
+territory. Every one liked him in the prison by reason of his gaiety and
+affability. He worked without murmuring, always calm and peaceful.
+Thieving, cheating, and drunkenness filled him with disgust, or put him
+in a rage--not that he wished to quarrel with any one; he simply turned
+away with indignation. During his confinement he committed no breach of
+the rules. Fervently pious, he said his prayers religiously every
+evening, observed all the Mohammedan fasts like a true fanatic, and
+passed whole nights in prayer. Every one liked him, and looked upon him
+as a thoroughly honest man. "Nourra is a lion," said the convicts; and
+the name of "Lion" stuck to him. He was quite convinced that as soon as
+he had finished his sentence he would be sent to the Caucasus. Indeed,
+he only lived by this hope, and I believe he would have died had he been
+deprived of it. I noticed it the very day of my arrival. How was it
+possible not to distinguish this calm, honest face in the midst of so
+many sombre, sardonic, repulsive countenances!
+
+Before I had been half-an-hour in the prison, he passed by my side and
+touched me gently on the shoulder, smiling at the same time with an
+innocent air. I did not at first understand what he meant, for he spoke
+Russian very badly; but soon afterwards he passed again, and, with a
+friendly smile, again touched me on the shoulder. For three days running
+he repeated this strange proceeding. As I soon found out, he wanted to
+show me that he pitied me, and that he felt how painful the first moment
+of imprisonment must be. He wanted to testify his sympathy, to keep up
+my spirits, and to assure me of his good-will. Kind and innocent Nourra!
+
+Of the three Tartars from Daghestan, all brothers, the two eldest were
+well-developed men, while the youngest, Ali, was not more than
+twenty-two, and looked younger. He slept by my side, and when I observed
+his frank, intelligent countenance, thoroughly natural, I was at once
+attracted to him, and thanked my fate that I had him for a neighbour in
+place of some other prisoner. His whole soul could be read in his
+beaming countenance. His confident smile had a certain childish
+simplicity; his large black eyes expressed such friendliness, such
+tender feeling, that I always took a pleasure in looking at him. It was
+a relief to me in moments of sadness and anguish. One day his eldest
+brother--he had five, of whom two were working in the mines of
+Siberia--had ordered him to take his yataghan, to get on horseback, and
+follow him. The respect of the mountaineers for their elders is so great
+that young Ali did not dare to ask the object of the expedition. He
+probably knew nothing about it, nor did his brothers consider it
+necessary to tell him. They were going to plunder the caravan of a rich
+Armenian merchant, and they succeeded in their enterprise. They
+assassinated the merchant and stole his goods. Unhappily for them, their
+act of brigandage was discovered. They were tried, flogged, and then
+sent to hard labour in Siberia. The Court admitted no extenuating
+circumstances, except in the case of Ali. He was condemned to the
+minimum punishment--four years' confinement. These brothers loved him,
+their affection being paternal rather than fraternal. He was the only
+consolation of their exile. Dull and sad as a rule, they had always a
+smile for him when they spoke to him, which they rarely did--for they
+looked upon him as a child to whom it would be useless to speak
+seriously--their forbidding countenances lightened up. I fancied they
+always spoke to him in a jocular tone, as to an infant. When he replied,
+the brothers exchanged glances, and smiled good-naturedly.
+
+He would not have dared to speak to them first by reason of his respect
+for them. How this young man preserved his tender heart, his native
+honesty, his frank cordiality without getting perverted and corrupted
+during his period of hard labour, is quite inexplicable. In spite of his
+gentleness, he had a strong stoical nature, as I afterwards saw. Chaste
+as a young girl, everything that was foul, cynical, shameful, or unjust
+filled his fine black eyes with indignation, and made them finer than
+ever. Without being a coward, he would allow himself to be insulted with
+impunity. He avoided quarrels and insults, and preserved all his
+dignity. With whom, indeed, was he to quarrel? Every one loved him,
+caressed him.
+
+At first he was only polite to me; but little by little we got into the
+habit of talking together in the evening, and in a few months he had
+learnt to speak Russian perfectly, whereas his brothers never gained a
+correct knowledge of the language. He was intelligent, and at the same
+time modest and full of delicate feeling.
+
+Ali was an exceptional being, and I always think of my meeting him as
+one of the lucky things in my life. There are some natures so
+spontaneously good and endowed by God with such great qualities that the
+idea of their getting perverted seems absurd. One is always at ease
+about them. Accordingly I had never any fears about Ali. Where is he
+now?
+
+One day, a considerable time after my arrival at the convict prison, I
+was stretched out on my camp-bedstead agitated by painful thoughts. Ali,
+always industrious, was not working at this moment. His time for going
+to bed had not arrived. The brothers were celebrating some Mussulman
+festival, and were not working. Ali was lying down with his head between
+his hands in a state of reverie. Suddenly he said to me:
+
+"Well, you are very sad!"
+
+I looked at him with curiosity. Such a remark from Ali, always so
+delicate, so full of tact, seemed strange. But I looked at him more
+attentively, and saw so much grief, so much repressed suffering in his
+countenance--of suffering caused no doubt by sudden recollections--that
+I understood in what pain he must be, and said so to him. He uttered a
+deep sigh, and smiled with a melancholy air. I always liked his
+graceful, agreeable smile. When he laughed, he showed two rows of teeth
+which the first beauty in the world would have envied him.
+
+"You were probably thinking, Ali, how this festival is celebrated in
+Daghestan. Ah, you were happy there!"
+
+"Yes," he replied with enthusiasm, and his eyes sparkled. "How did you
+know I was thinking of such things?"
+
+"How was I not to know? You were much better off than you are here."
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"What beautiful flowers there are in your country! Is it not so? It is a
+true paradise."
+
+"Be silent, please."
+
+He was much agitated.
+
+"Listen, Ali. Had you a sister?"
+
+"Yes; why do you ask me?"
+
+"She must have been very beautiful if she is like you?"
+
+"Oh, there is no comparison to make between us. In all Daghestan no such
+beautiful girl is to be seen. My sister is, indeed, charming. I am sure
+that you have never seen any one like her. My mother also is very
+handsome."
+
+"And your mother was fond of you?"
+
+"What are you saying? Certainly she was. I am sure that she has died of
+grief, she was so fond of me. I was her favourite child. Yes, she loved
+me more than my sister, more than all the others. This very night she
+has appeared to me in a dream, she shed tears for me."
+
+He was silent, and throughout the rest of the night did not open his
+mouth; but from this very moment he sought my company and my
+conversation; although very respectful, he never allowed himself to
+address me first. On the other hand he was happy when I entered into
+conversation with him. He spoke often of the Caucasus, and of his past
+life. His brothers did not forbid him to converse with me; I think even
+that they encouraged him to do so. When they saw that I had formed an
+attachment to him, they became more affable towards me.
+
+Ali often helped me in my work. In the barrack he did whatever he
+thought would be agreeable to me, and would save me trouble. In his
+attentions to me there was neither servility nor the hope of any
+advantage, but only a warm, cordial feeling, which he did not try to
+hide. He had an extraordinary aptitude for the mechanical arts. He had
+learnt to sew very tolerably, and to mend boots; he even understood a
+little carpentering--everything in short that could be learnt at the
+convict prison. His brothers were proud of him.
+
+"Listen, Ali," I said to him one day, "why don't you learn to read and
+write the Russian language, it might be very useful to you here in
+Siberia?"
+
+"I should like to do so, but who would teach me?"
+
+"There are plenty of people here who can read and write. I myself will
+teach you if you like."
+
+"Oh, do teach me, I beg of you," said Ali, raising himself up in bed; he
+joined his hands and looked at me with a suppliant air.
+
+We went to work the very next evening. I had with me a Russian
+translation of the New Testament, the only book that was not forbidden
+in the prison. With this book alone, without an alphabet, Ali learnt to
+read in a few weeks, and after a few months he could read perfectly. He
+brought to his studies extraordinary zeal and warmth.
+
+One day we were reading together the Sermon on the Mount. I noticed that
+he read certain passages with much feeling; and I asked him if he was
+pleased with what he read. He glanced at me, and his face suddenly
+lighted up.
+
+"Yes, yes, Jesus is a holy prophet. He speaks the language of God. How
+beautiful it is!"
+
+"But tell me what it is that particularly pleases you."
+
+"The passage in which it is said, 'Forgive those that hate you!' Ah! how
+divinely He speaks!"
+
+He turned towards his brothers, who were listening to our conversation,
+and said to them with warmth a few words. They talked together seriously
+for some time, giving their approval of what their young brother had
+said by a nodding of the head. Then with a grave, kindly smile, quite a
+Mussulman smile (I liked the gravity of this smile), they assured me
+that Isu [Jesus] was a great prophet. He had done great miracles. He had
+created a bird with a little clay on which he breathed the breath of
+life, and the bird had then flown away. That, they said, was written in
+their books. They were convinced that they would please me much by
+praising Jesus. As for Ali, he was happy to see that his brothers
+approved of our friendship, and that they were giving me, what he
+thought would be, grateful words. The success I had with my pupil in
+teaching him to write, was really extraordinary. Ali had bought paper at
+his own expense, for he would not allow me to purchase any, also pens
+and ink; and in less than two months he had learnt to write. His
+brothers were astonished at such rapid progress. Their satisfaction and
+their pride were without bounds. They did not know how to show me enough
+gratitude. At the workshop, if we happened to be together, there were
+disputes as to which of them should help me. I do not speak of Ali, he
+felt for me more affection than even for his brothers. I shall never
+forget the day on which he was liberated. He went with me outside the
+barracks, threw himself on my neck and sobbed. He had never embraced me
+before, and had never before wept in my presence.
+
+"You have done so much for me," he said; "neither my father nor my
+mother have ever been kinder. You have made a man of me. God will bless
+you, I shall never forget you, never!"
+
+Where is he now, where is my good, kind, dear Ali?
+
+Besides the Circassians, we had a certain number of Poles, who formed a
+separate group. They had scarcely any relations with the other convicts.
+I have already said that, thanks to their hatred for the Russian
+prisoners, they were detested by every one. They were of a restless,
+morbid disposition: there were six of them, some of them men of
+education, of whom I shall speak in detail further on. It was from them
+that during the last days of my imprisonment I obtained a few books. The
+first work I read made a deep impression upon me. I shall speak further
+on of these sensations, which I look upon as very curious, though it
+will be difficult to understand them. Of this I am certain, for there
+are certain things as to which one cannot judge without having
+experienced them oneself. It will be enough for me to say that
+intellectual privations are more difficult to support than the most
+frightful, physical tortures.
+
+A common man sent to hard labour finds himself in kindred society,
+perhaps even in a more interesting society than he has been accustomed
+to. He loses his native place, his family; but his ordinary surroundings
+are much the same as before. A man of education, condemned by law to the
+same punishment as the common man, suffers incomparably more. He must
+stifle all his needs, all his habits, he must descend into a lower
+sphere, must breathe another air. He is like a fish thrown upon the
+sand. The punishment that he undergoes, equal for all criminals
+according to the law, is ten times more severe and more painful for him
+than for the common man. This is an incontestable truth, even if one
+thinks only of the material habits that have to be sacrificed.
+
+I was saying that the Poles formed a group by themselves. They lived
+together, and of all the convicts in the prison, they cared only for a
+Jew, and for no other reason than because he amused them. Our Jew was
+generally liked, although every one laughed at him. We only had one, and
+even now I cannot think of him without laughing. Whenever I looked at
+him I thought of the Jew Jankel, whom Gogol describes in his Tarass
+Boulba, and who, when undressed and ready to go to bed with his Jewess
+in a sort of cupboard, resembled a fowl; but Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein and
+a plucked fowl were as like one another as two drops of water. He was
+already of a certain age--about fifty--small, feeble, cunning, and, at
+the same time, very stupid, bold, and boastful, though a horrible
+coward. His face was covered with wrinkles, his forehead and cheeks were
+scarred from the burning he had received in the pillory. I never
+understood how he had been able to support the sixty strokes he
+received.
+
+He had been sentenced for murder. He carried on his person a medical
+prescription which had been given to him by other Jews immediately after
+his exposure in the pillory. Thanks to the ointment prescribed, the
+scars were to disappear in less than a fortnight. He had been afraid to
+use it. He was waiting for the expiration of his twenty years (after
+which he would become a colonist) in order to utilise his famous remedy.
+
+"Otherwise I shall not be able to get married," he would say; "and I
+must absolutely marry."
+
+We were great friends: his good-humour was inexhaustible. The life of
+the convict prison did not seem to disagree with him. A goldsmith by
+trade, he received more orders than he could execute, for there was no
+jeweller's shop in our town. He thus escaped his hard labour. As a
+matter of course, he lent money on pledges to the convicts, who paid him
+heavy interest. He arrived at the prison before I did. One of the Poles
+related to me his triumphal entry. It is quite a history, which I shall
+relate further on, for I shall often have to speak of Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein.
+
+As for the other prisoners there were, first of all, four "old
+believers," among whom was the old man from Starodoub, two or three
+Little Russians, very morose persons, and a young convict with delicate
+features and a finely-chiselled nose, about twenty-three years of age,
+who had already committed eight murders; besides a band of coiners, one
+of whom was the buffoon of our barracks; and, finally, some sombre,
+sour-tempered convicts, shorn and disfigured, always silent, and full of
+envy. They looked askance at all who came near them, and must have
+continued to do so during a long course of years. I saw all this
+superficially on the first night of my arrival, in the midst of thick
+smoke, in a mephitic atmosphere, amid obscene oaths, accompanied by the
+rattling of chains, by insults, and cynical laughter. I stretched
+myself out on the bare planks, my head resting on my coat, rolled up to
+do duty in lieu of a pillow, not yet supplied to me. Then I covered
+myself with my sheepskin, but, thanks to the painful impression of this
+evening, I was unable for some time to get to sleep. My new life was
+only just beginning. The future reserved for me many things which I had
+not foreseen, and of which I had never the least idea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE FIRST MONTH
+
+
+Three days after my arrival I was ordered to go to work. The impression
+left upon me to this day is still very clear, although there was nothing
+very striking in it, unless one considers that my position was in itself
+extraordinary. The first sensations count for a good deal, and I as yet
+looked upon everything with curiosity. My first three days were
+certainly the most painful of all my terms of imprisonment.
+
+My wandering is at an end, I said to myself every moment. I am now in
+the convict prison, my resting-place for many years. Here is where I am
+to live. I come here full of grief, who knows that when I leave it I
+shall not do so with regret? I said this to myself as one touches a
+wound, the better to feel its pain. The idea that I might regret my stay
+was terrible to me. Already I felt to what an intolerable degree man is
+a creature of habit, but this was a matter of the future. The present,
+meanwhile, was terrible enough.
+
+The wild curiosity with which my convict companions examined me, their
+harshness towards a former nobleman now entering into their corporation,
+a harshness which sometimes took the form of hatred--all this tormented
+me to such a degree that I felt obliged of my own accord to go to work
+in order to measure at one stroke the whole extent of my misfortune,
+that I might at once begin to live like the others, and fall with them
+into the same abyss.
+
+But convicts differ, and I had not yet disentangled from the general
+hostility the sympathy here and there manifested towards me.
+
+After a time the affability and good-will shown to me by certain
+convicts gave me a little courage, and restored my spirits. Most
+friendly among them was Akim Akimitch. I soon noticed some kind,
+good-natured faces in the dark and hateful crowd. Bad people are to be
+found everywhere, but even among the worst there may be something good,
+I began to think, by way of consolation. Who knows? These persons are
+perhaps not worse than others who are free. While making these
+reflections I felt some doubts, and, nevertheless, how much I was in the
+right!
+
+The convict Suchiloff, for example; a man whose acquaintance I did not
+make until long afterwards, although he was near me during nearly the
+whole period of my confinement. Whenever I speak of the convicts who are
+not worse than other men, my thoughts turn involuntarily to him. He
+acted as my servant, together with another prisoner named Osip, whom
+Akim Akimitch had recommended to me immediately after my arrival. For
+thirty kopecks a month this man agreed to cook me a separate dinner, in
+case I should not be able to put up with the ordinary prison fare, and
+should be able to pay for my own food. Osip was one of the four cooks
+chosen by the prisoners in our two kitchens. I may observe that they
+were at liberty to refuse these duties, and give them up whenever they
+might think fit. The cooks were men from whom hard labour was not
+expected. They had to bake bread and prepare the cabbage soup. They were
+called "cook-maids," not from contempt, for the men chosen were always
+the most intelligent, but merely in fun. The name given to them did not
+annoy them.
+
+For many years past Osip had been constantly selected as "cook-maid." He
+never refused the duty except when he was out of sorts, or when he saw
+an opportunity of getting spirits into the barracks. Although he had
+been sent to the convict prison as a smuggler, he was remarkably honest
+and good-tempered (I have spoken of him before); at the same time he was
+a dreadful coward, and feared the rod above all things. Of a peaceful,
+patient disposition, affable with everybody, he never got into quarrels;
+but he could never resist the temptation of bringing spirits in,
+notwithstanding his cowardice, and simply from his love of smuggling.
+Like all the other cooks he dealt in spirits, but on a much less
+extensive scale than Gazin, because he was afraid of running the same
+risks. I always lived on good terms with Osip. To have a separate table
+it was not necessary to be very rich; it cost me only one rouble a month
+apart from the bread, which was given to us. Sometimes when I was very
+hungry I made up my mind to eat the cabbage soup, in spite of the
+disgust with which it generally filled me. After a time this disgust
+entirely disappeared. I generally bought one pound of meat a day, which
+cost me two kopecks--[5 kopecks = 2 pence.]
+
+The old soldiers, who watched over the internal discipline of the
+barracks, were ready, good-naturedly, to go every day to the market to
+make purchases for the convicts. For this they received no pay, except
+from time to time a trifling present. They did it for the sake of their
+peace; their life in the convict prison would have been a perpetual
+torment had they refused. They used to bring in tobacco, tea,
+meat--everything, in short, that was desired, always excepting spirits.
+
+For many years Osip prepared for me every day a piece of roast meat. How
+he managed to get it cooked was a secret. What was strangest in the
+matter was, that during all this time I scarcely exchanged two words
+with him. I tried many times to make him talk, but he was incapable of
+keeping up a conversation. He would only smile and answer my questions
+by "yes" or "no." He was a Hercules, but he had no more intelligence
+than a child of seven.
+
+Suchiloff was also one of those who helped me. I had never asked him to
+do so, he attached himself to me on his own account, and I scarcely
+remember when he began to do so. His principal duty consisted in washing
+my linen. For this purpose there was a basin in the middle of the
+court-yard, round which the convicts washed their clothes in prison
+buckets.
+
+Suchiloff had found means for rendering me a number of little services.
+He boiled my tea-urn, ran right and left to perform various commissions
+for me, got me all kinds of things, mended my clothes, and greased my
+boots four times a month. He did all this in a zealous manner, with a
+business-like air, as if he felt all the weight of the duties he was
+performing. He seemed quite to have joined his fate to mine, and
+occupied himself with all my affairs. He never said: "You have so many
+shirts, or your waistcoat is torn;" but, "We have so many shirts, and
+our waistcoat is torn." I had somehow inspired him with admiration, and
+I really believe that I had become his sole care in life. As he knew no
+trade whatever his only source of income was from me, and it must be
+understood that I paid him very little; but he was always pleased,
+whatever he might receive. He would have been without means had he not
+been a servant of mine, and he gave me the preference because I was more
+affable than the others, and, above all, more equitable in money
+matters. He was one of those beings who never get rich, and never know
+how to manage their affairs; one of those in the prison who were hired
+by the gamblers to watch all night in the ante-chamber, listening for
+the least noise that might announce the arrival of the Major. If there
+was a night visit they received nothing, indeed their back paid for
+their want of attention. One thing which marks this kind of men is their
+entire absence of individuality, which they seem entirely to have lost.
+
+Suchiloff was a poor, meek fellow; all the courage seemed to have been
+beaten out of him, although he had in reality been born meek. For
+nothing in the world would he have raised his hand against any one in
+the prison. I always pitied him without knowing why. I could not look at
+him without feeling the deepest compassion for him. If asked to explain
+this, I should find it impossible to do so. I could never get him to
+talk, and he never became animated, except when, to put an end to all
+attempts at conversation, I gave him something to do, or told him to go
+somewhere for me. I soon found that he loved to be ordered about.
+Neither tall nor short, neither ugly nor handsome, neither stupid nor
+intelligent, neither old nor young, it would be difficult to describe in
+any definite manner this man, except that his face was slightly pitted
+with the small-pox, and that he had fair hair. He belonged, as far as I
+could make out, to the same company as Sirotkin. The prisoners sometimes
+laughed at him because he had "exchanged." During the march to Siberia
+he had exchanged for a red shirt and a silver rouble. It was thought
+comical that he should have sold himself for such a small sum, to take
+the name of another prisoner in place of his own, and consequently to
+accept the other's sentence. Strange as it may appear it was
+nevertheless true. This custom, which had become traditional, and still
+existed at the time I was sent to Siberia, I, at first, refused to
+believe, but found afterwards that it really existed. This is how the
+exchange was effected:
+
+A company of prisoners started for Siberia. Among them there are exiles
+of all kinds, some condemned to hard labour, others to labour in the
+mines, others to simple colonisation. On the way out, no matter at what
+stage of the journey, in the Government of Perm, for instance, a
+prisoner wishes to exchange with another man, who--we will say he is
+named Mikhailoff--has been condemned to hard labour for a capital
+offence, and does not like the prospect of passing long years without
+his liberty. He knows, in his cunning, what to do. He looks among his
+comrades for some simple, weak-minded fellow, whose punishment is less
+severe, who has been condemned to a few years in the mines, or to hard
+labour, or has perhaps been simply exiled. At last he finds such a man
+as Suchiloff, a former serf, sentenced only to become a colonist. The
+man has made fifteen hundred versts [about one thousand miles] without a
+kopeck, for the good reason that a Suchiloff is always without money;
+fatigued, exhausted, he can get nothing to eat beyond the fixed rations,
+nothing to wear in addition to the convict uniform.
+
+Mikhailoff gets into conversation with Suchiloff, they suit one another,
+and they strike up a friendship. At last at some station Mikhailoff
+makes his comrade drunk, then he will ask him if he will "exchange."
+
+"My name is Mikhailoff," he says to him, "condemned to what is called
+hard labour, but which, in my own case, will be nothing of the kind, as
+I am to enter a particular special section. I am classed with the
+hard-labour men, but in my special division the labour is not so
+severe."
+
+Before the special section was abolished, many persons in the official
+world, even at St. Petersburg, were unaware even of its existence. It
+was in such a retired corner of one of the most distant regions of
+Siberia, that it was difficult to know anything about it. It was
+insignificant, moreover, from the number of persons belonging to it. In
+my time they numbered altogether only seventy. I have since met men who
+have served in Siberia, and know the country well, and yet have never
+heard of the "special section." In the rules and regulations there are
+only six lines about this institution. Attached to the convict prison of
+---- is a special section reserved for the most dangerous criminals,
+while the severest labours are being prepared for them. The prisoners
+themselves knew nothing of this special section. Did it exist
+temporarily or constantly? Neither Suchiloff nor any of the prisoners
+being sent out, not Mikhailoff himself could guess the significance of
+those two words. Mikhailoff, however, had his suspicion as to the true
+character of this section. He formed his opinion from the gravity of the
+crime for which he was made to march three or four thousand versts on
+foot. It was certain that he was not being sent to a place where he
+would be at his ease. Suchiloff was to be a colonist. What could
+Mikhailoff desire better than that?
+
+"Won't you change?" he asks. Suchiloff is a little drunk, he is a
+simple-minded man, full of gratitude to the comrade who entertains him,
+and dare not refuse; he has heard, moreover, from other prisoners, that
+these exchanges are made, and understands, therefore, that there is
+nothing extraordinary, unheard-of, in the proposition made to him. An
+agreement is come to, the cunning Mikhailoff, profiting by Suchiloff's
+simplicity, buys his name for a red shirt, and a silver rouble, which
+are given before witnesses. The next day Suchiloff is sober; but more
+liquor is given to him. Then he drinks up his own rouble, and after a
+while the red shirt has the same fate.
+
+"If you don't like the bargain we made, give me back my money," says
+Mikhailoff. But where is Suchiloff to get a rouble? If he does not give
+it back, the "artel" [_i.e._, the association--in this case of convicts]
+will force him to keep his promise. The prisoners are very sensitive on
+such points: he must keep his promise. The "artel" requires it, and, in
+case of disobedience, woe to the offender! He will be killed, or at
+least seriously intimidated. If indeed the "artel" once showed mercy to
+the men who had broken their word, there would be an end to its
+existence. If the given word can be recalled, and the bargain put an end
+to after the stipulated sum has been paid, who would be bound by such an
+agreement? It is a question of life or death for the "artel."
+Accordingly the prisoners are very severe on the point.
+
+Suchiloff then finds that it is impossible to go back, that nothing can
+save him, and he accordingly agrees to all that is demanded of him. The
+bargain is then made known to all the convoy, and if denunciations are
+feared, the men looked upon as suspicious are entertained. What,
+moreover, does it matter to the others whether Mikhailoff or Suchiloff
+goes to the devil? They have had gratuitous drinks, they have been
+feasted for nothing, and the secret is kept by all.
+
+At the next station the names are called. When Mikhailoff's turn
+arrives, Suchiloff answers "present," Mikhailoff replies "present" for
+Suchiloff, and the journey is continued. The matter is not now even
+talked about. At Tobolsk the prisoners are told off. Mikhailoff will
+become a colonist, while Suchiloff is sent to the special section under
+a double escort. It would be useless now to cry out, to protest, for
+what proof could be given? How many years would it take to decide the
+affair, what benefit would the complainant derive? Where, moreover, are
+the witnesses? They would deny everything, even if they could be found.
+
+That is how Suchiloff, for a silver rouble and a red shirt, came to be
+sent to the special section. The prisoners laughed at him, not because
+he had exchanged--though in general they despised those who had been
+foolish enough to exchange a work that was easy for a work that was
+hard--but simply because he had received nothing for the bargain except
+a red shirt and a rouble--certainly a ridiculous compensation.
+
+Generally speaking, the exchanges are made for relatively large sums;
+several ten-rouble notes sometimes change hands. But Suchiloff was so
+characterless, so insignificant, so null, that he could scarcely even be
+laughed at. We lived a considerable time together, he and I; I had got
+accustomed to him, and he had formed an attachment for me. One day,
+however--I can never forgive myself for what I did--he had not executed
+my orders, and when he came to ask me for his money I had the cruelty to
+say to him, "You don't forget to ask for your money, but you don't do
+what you are told." Suchiloff remained silent and hastened to do as he
+was ordered, but he suddenly became very sad. Two days passed. I could
+not believe that what I had said to him could affect him so much. I knew
+that a person named Vassilieff was claiming from him in a morose manner
+payment of a small debt. Suchiloff was probably short of money, and did
+not dare to ask me for any.
+
+"Suchiloff, you wish, I think, to ask me for some money to pay
+Vassilieff; take this."
+
+I was seated on my camp-bedstead. Suchiloff remained standing up before
+me, much astonished that I myself should propose to give him money, and
+that I remembered his difficult position; the more so as latterly he had
+asked me several times for money in advance, and could scarcely hope
+that I should give him any more. He looked at the paper I held out to
+him, then looked at me, turned sharply on his heel and went out. I was
+as astonished as I could be. I went out after him, and found him at the
+back of the barracks. He was standing up with his face against the
+palisade and his arms resting on the stakes.
+
+"What is the matter, Suchiloff?" I asked him.
+
+He made no reply, and to my stupefaction I saw that he was on the point
+of bursting into tears.
+
+"You think, Alexander Petrovitch," he said, in a trembling voice, in
+endeavouring not to look at me, "that I care only for your money, but
+I----"
+
+He turned away from me, and struck the palisade with his forehead and
+began to sob. It was the first time in the convict prison that I had
+seen a man weep. I had much trouble in consoling him; and he afterwards
+served me, if possible, with more zeal than ever. He watched for my
+orders, but by almost imperceptible indications I could see that his
+heart would never forgive me for my reproach. Meanwhile other men
+laughed at him and teased him whenever the opportunity presented itself,
+and even insulted him without his losing his temper; on the contrary, he
+still remained on good terms with them. It is indeed difficult to know a
+man, even after having lived long years with him.
+
+The convict prison had not at first for me the significance it was
+afterwards to assume. I was at first, in spite of my attention, unable
+to understand many facts which were staring me in the face. I was
+naturally first struck by the most salient points, but I saw them from a
+false point of view, and the only impression they made upon me was one
+of unmitigated sadness. What contributed above all to this result was my
+meeting with A----f, the convict who had come to the prison before me,
+and who had astonished me in such a painful manner during the first few
+days. The effect of his baseness was to aggravate my moral suffering,
+already sufficiently cruel. He offered the most repulsive example of the
+kind of degradation and baseness to which a man may fall when all
+feeling of honour has perished within him. This young man of noble
+birth--I have spoken of him before--used to repeat to the Major all that
+was done in the barracks, and in doing so through the Major's
+body-servant Fedka. Here is the man's history.
+
+Arrived at St. Petersburg before he had finished his studies, after a
+quarrel with his parents, whom his life of debauchery had terrified, he
+had not shrunk for the sake of money from doing the work of an informer.
+He did not hesitate to sell the blood of ten men in order to satisfy his
+insatiable thirst for the grossest and most licentious pleasures. At
+last he became so completely perverted in the St. Petersburg taverns and
+houses of ill-fame, that he did not hesitate to take part in an affair
+which he knew to be conceived in madness--for he was not without
+intelligence. He was condemned to exile and ten years' hard labour in
+Siberia. One might have thought that such a frightful blow would have
+shocked him, that it would have caused some reaction and brought about a
+crisis; but he accepted his new fate without the least confusion. It did
+not frighten him; all that he feared in it was the necessity of working,
+and of giving up for ever his habits of debauchery. The name of convict
+had no effect but to prepare him for new acts of baseness, and more
+hideous villainies than any he had previously perpetrated.
+
+"I am now a convict, and can crawl at ease, without shame."
+
+That was the light in which he looked upon his new position. I think of
+this disgusting creature as of some monstrous phenomenon. During the
+many years I have lived in the midst of murderers, debauchees, and
+proved rascals, never in my life did I meet a case of such complete
+moral abasement, determined corruption, and shameless baseness. Among us
+there was a parricide of noble birth. I have already spoken of him; but
+I could see by several signs that he was much better and more humane
+than A----f. During the whole time of my punishment, he was never
+anything more in my eyes than a piece of flesh furnished with teeth and
+a stomach, greedy for the most offensive and ferocious animal
+enjoyments, for the satisfaction of which he was ready to assassinate
+anyone. I do not exaggerate in the least; I recognised in A----f one of
+the most perfect specimens of animality, restrained by no principles, no
+rule. How much I was disgusted by his eternal smile! He was a monster--a
+moral Quasimodo. He was at the same time intelligent, cunning,
+good-looking, had received some education, and possessed a certain
+capacity. Fire, plague, famine, no matter what scourge, is preferable to
+the presence of such a man in human society. I have already said that in
+the convict prison espionage and denunciation flourished as the natural
+product of degradation, without the convicts thinking much of it. On the
+contrary, they maintained friendly relations with A----f. They were more
+affable with him than with any one else. The kindly attitude towards him
+of our drunken friend, the Major, gave him a certain importance, and
+even a certain worth in the eyes of the convicts. Later on, this
+cowardly wretch ran away with another convict and the soldier in charge
+of them; but of this I shall speak in proper time and place. At first,
+he hung about me, thinking I did not know his history. I repeat that he
+poisoned the first days of my imprisonment so as to drive me nearly to
+despair. I was terrified by the mass of baseness and cowardice in the
+midst of which I had been thrown. I imagined that every one else was as
+foul and cowardly as he. But I made a mistake in supposing that every
+one resembled A----f.
+
+During the first three days I did nothing but wander about the convict
+prison, when I did not remain stretched out on my camp-bedstead. I
+entrusted to a prisoner of whom I was sure, the piece of linen which had
+been delivered to me by the administration, in order that he might make
+me some shirts. Always on the advice of Akim Akimitch, I got myself a
+folding mattress. It was in felt, covered with linen, as thin as a
+pancake, and very hard to any one who was not accustomed to it. Akim
+Akimitch promised to get me all the most essential things, and with his
+own hands made me a blanket out of a piece of old cloth, cut and sewn
+together from all the old trousers and waistcoats which I had bought
+from various prisoners. The clothes delivered to them, when they have
+been worn the regulation time, become the property of the prisoners.
+They at once sell them, for however much worn an article of clothing may
+be, it always possesses a certain value. I was very much astonished by
+all this, above all at the outset, during my first relations with this
+world. I became as low as my companions, as much a convict as they.
+Their customs, their habits, their ideas influenced me thoroughly, and
+externally became my own, without affecting my inner self. I was
+astonished and confused as though I had never heard or suspected
+anything of the kind before, and yet I knew what to expect, or at least
+what had been told me. The thing itself, however, produced on me a
+different impression from the mere description of it. How could I
+suppose, for instance, that old rags possessed still some value? And,
+nevertheless, my blanket was made up entirely of tatters. It would be
+difficult to describe the cloth out of which the clothes of the convicts
+were made. It was like the thick, gray cloth manufactured for the
+soldiers, but as soon as it had been worn some little time it showed the
+threads and tore with abominable ease. The uniform ought to have lasted
+for a whole year, but it never went so long as that. The prisoner
+labours, carries heavy burdens, and the cloth naturally wears out, and
+gets into holes very quickly. Our sheepskins were intended to be worn
+for three years. During the whole of that time they served as outer
+garments, blankets, and pillows, but they were very solid. Nevertheless,
+at the end of the third year, it was not rare to see them mended with
+ordinary linen. Although they were now very much worn, it was always
+possible to sell them at the rate of forty kopecks a piece, the best
+preserved ones even at the price of sixty kopecks, which was a great sum
+for the convict prison.
+
+Money, as I have before said, has a sovereign value in such a place. It
+is certain that a prisoner who has some pecuniary resources suffers ten
+times less than the one who has nothing.
+
+"When the Government supplies all the wants of the convict, what need
+can he have for money?" reasoned our chief.
+
+Nevertheless, I repeat that if the prisoners had been deprived of the
+opportunity of possessing something of their own, they would have lost
+their reason, or would have died like flies. They would have committed
+unheard-of crimes; some from wearisomeness or grief, the others, in
+order to get sooner punished, and, according to their expression, "have
+a change." If the convict who has gained some kopecks by the sweat of
+his brow, who has embarked in perilous undertakings in order to conquer
+them, if he spends this money recklessly, with childish stupidity, that
+does not the least in the world prove that he does not know its value,
+as might at first sight be thought. The convict is greedy for money, to
+the point of losing his reason, and, if he throws it away, he does so in
+order to procure what he places far above money--liberty, or at least a
+semblance of liberty.
+
+Convicts are great dreamers; I will speak of that further on with more
+detail. At present I will confine myself to saying that I have heard
+men, who had been condemned to twenty years' hard labour, say, with a
+quiet air, "when I have finished my time, if God wishes, then----" The
+very words hard labour, or forced labour, indicate that the man has lost
+his freedom; and when this man spends his money he is carrying out his
+own will.
+
+In spite of the branding and the chains, in spite of the palisade which
+hides from his eyes the free world, and encloses him in a cage like a
+wild beast, he can get himself spirits and other delights; sometimes
+even (not always), corrupt his immediate superintendents, the old
+soldiers and non-commissioned officers, and get them to close their eyes
+to his infractions of discipline within the prison. He can,
+moreover--what he adores--swagger; that is to say, impress his
+companions and persuade himself for a time, that he enjoys more liberty
+than he really possesses. The poor devil wishes, in a word, to convince
+himself of what he knows to be impossible. This is why the prisoners
+take such pleasure in boasting and exaggerating in burlesque fashion
+their own unhappy personality.
+
+Finally, they run some risk when they give themselves up to this
+boasting; in which again they find a semblance of life and liberty--the
+only thing they care for. Would not a millionaire with a rope round his
+neck give all his millions for one breath of air? A prisoner has lived
+quietly for several years in succession, his conduct has been so
+exemplary that he has been rewarded by special exemptions. Suddenly, to
+the great astonishment of his chiefs, this man becomes mutinous, plays
+the very devil, and does not recoil from a capital crime such as
+assassination, violation, etc. Every one is astounded at the cause of
+this unexpected explosion on the part of a man thought incapable of such
+a thing. It is the convulsive manifestation of his personality, an
+instinctive melancholia, an uncontrollable desire for self-assertion,
+all of which obscures his reason. It is a sort of epileptic attack, a
+spasm. A man buried alive who suddenly wakes up must strike in a similar
+manner against the lid of his coffin. He tries to rise up, to push it
+from him, although his reason must convince him of the uselessness of
+his efforts.
+
+Reason, however, has nothing to do with this convulsion. It must not be
+forgotten that almost every voluntary manifestation on the part of a
+convict is looked upon as a crime. Accordingly, it is a perfect matter
+of indifference to them whether this manifestation be important or
+insignificant, debauch for debauch, danger for danger. It is just as
+well to go to the end, even as far as a murder. The only difficulty is
+the first step. Little by little the man becomes excited, intoxicated,
+and can no longer contain himself. For that reason it would be better
+not to drive him to extremities. Everybody would be much better for it.
+
+But how can this be managed?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+THE FIRST MONTH (_continued_)
+
+
+When I entered the convict prison I possessed a small sum of money; but
+I carried very little of it about with me, lest it should be
+confiscated. I had gummed some banknotes into the binding of my New
+Testament--the only book authorised in the convict prison. This New
+Testament had been given to me at Tobolsk, by a person who had been
+exiled some dozens of years, and who had got accustomed to see in other
+"unfortunates" a brother.
+
+There are in Siberia people who pass their lives in giving brotherly
+assistance to the "unfortunates." They feel the same sympathy for them
+that they would have for their own children. Their compassion is
+something sacred and quite disinterested. I cannot help here relating in
+some words a meeting which I had at this time.
+
+In the town where we were then imprisoned lived a widow, Nastasia
+Ivanovna. Naturally, none of us were in direct relations with this
+woman. She had made it the object of her life to come to the assistance
+of all the exiles; but, above all, of us convicts. Had there been some
+misfortune in her family? Had some person dear to her undergone a
+punishment similar to ours? I do not know. In any case, she did for us
+whatever she could. It is true she could do very little, for she was
+very poor. But we felt when we were shut up in the convict prison that,
+outside, we had a devoted friend. She often brought us news, which we
+were very glad to hear, for nothing of the kind reached us.
+
+When I left the prison to be taken to another town, I had the
+opportunity of calling upon her and making her acquaintance. She lived
+in one of the suburbs, at the house of a near relation.
+
+Nastasia Ivanovna was neither old nor young, neither pretty nor ugly. It
+was difficult, impossible even, to know whether she was intelligent and
+well-bred. But in her actions could be seen infinite compassion, an
+irresistible desire to please, to solace, to be in some way agreeable.
+All this could be read in the sweetness of her smile.
+
+I passed an entire evening at her house, with other companions of my
+imprisonment. She looked us straight in the face, laughed when we
+laughed, did everything we asked her, in conversation was always of our
+opinion, and did her best in every way to entertain us. She gave us tea
+and various little delicacies. If she had been rich we felt sure she
+would have been pleased, if only to be able to entertain us better and
+offer for us some solid consolation.
+
+When we wished her "good-bye," she gave us each a present of a cardboard
+cigar-case as a souvenir. She had made them herself--Heaven knows
+how--with coloured paper, the paper with which school-boys' copy-books
+are covered. All round this cardboard cigar-case she had gummed, by way
+of ornamentation, a thin edge of gilt paper.
+
+"As you smoke, these cigar-cases will perhaps be of use to you," she
+said, as if excusing herself for making such a present.
+
+There are people who say, as I have read and heard, that a great love
+for one's neighbour is only a form of selfishness. What selfishness
+could there be in this? That I could never understand.
+
+Although I had not much money when I entered the convict prison, I could
+not nevertheless feel seriously annoyed with convicts who, immediately
+on my arrival, after having deceived me once, came to borrow of me a
+second, a third time, and even oftener. But I admitted frankly that what
+did annoy me was the thought that all these people, with their smiling
+knavery, must take me for a fool, and laugh at me just because I lent
+the money for the fifth time. It must have seemed to them that I was the
+dupe of their tricks and their deceit. If, on the contrary, I had
+refused them and sent them away, I am certain that they would have had
+much more respect for me. Still, though it vexed me very much, I could
+not refuse them.
+
+I was rather anxious during the first days to know what footing I should
+hold in the convict prison, and what rule of conduct I should follow
+with my companions. I felt and perfectly understood that the place being
+in every way new to me, I was walking in darkness, and it would be
+impossible for me to live for ten years in darkness. I decided to act
+frankly, according to the dictates of my conscience and my personal
+feeling. But I also knew that this decision might be very well in
+theory, and that I should, in practice, be governed by unforeseen
+events. Accordingly, in addition to all the petty annoyances caused to
+me by my confinement in the convict prison, one terrible anguish laid
+hold of me and tormented me more and more.
+
+"The dead-house!" I said to myself when night fell, and I looked from
+the threshold of our barracks at the prisoners just returned from their
+labours and walking about in the court-yard, from the kitchen to the
+barracks, and _vice versa_. As I examined their movements and their
+physiognomies I endeavoured to guess what sort of men they were, and
+what their disposition might be.
+
+They lounged about in front of me, some with lowered brows, others full
+of gaiety--one of these expressions was seen on every convict's
+face--exchanged insults or talked on indifferent matters. Sometimes,
+too, they wandered about in solitude, occupied apparently with their own
+reflections; some of them with a worn-out, pathetic look, others with a
+conceited air of superiority. Yes, here, even here!--their cap balanced
+on the side of their head, their sheepskin coat picturesquely over the
+shoulder, insolence in their eyes and mockery on their lips.
+
+"Here is the world to which I am condemned, in which, in spite of
+myself, I must somehow live," I said to myself.
+
+I endeavoured to question Akim Akimitch, with whom I liked to take my
+tea, in order not to be alone, for I wanted to know something about the
+different convicts. In parenthesis I must say that the tea, at the
+beginning of my imprisonment, was almost my only food. Akim Akimitch
+never refused to take tea with me, and he himself heated our tin
+tea-urns, made in the convict prison and let out to me by M----.
+
+Akim Akimitch generally drank a glass of tea (he had glasses of his own)
+calmly and silently, then thanked me when he had finished, and at once
+went to work on my blanket; but he had not been able to tell me what I
+wanted to know, and did not even understand my desire to know the
+dispositions of the people surrounding me. He listened to me with a
+cunning smile which I have still before my eyes. No, I thought, I must
+find out for myself; it is useless to interrogate others.
+
+The fourth day, the convicts were drawn up in two ranks, early in the
+morning, in the court-yard before the guard-house, close to the prison
+gates. Before and behind them were soldiers with loaded muskets and
+fixed bayonets.
+
+The soldier has the right to fire on the convict if he tries to escape.
+But, on the other hand, he is answerable for his shot, if there was no
+absolute necessity for him to fire. The same thing applies to revolts.
+But who would think of openly taking to flight?
+
+The Engineer officer arrived accompanied by the so-called "conductor"
+and by some non-commissioned officers of the Line, together with sappers
+and soldiers told off to superintend the labours of the convicts.
+
+The roll was called. Then the convicts who were going to the tailors'
+workshop started first. These men worked inside the prison, and made
+clothes for all the inmates. The other exiles went into the outer
+workshops, until at last arrived the turn of the prisoners destined for
+field labour. I was of this number--there were altogether twenty of us.
+Behind the fortress on the frozen river were two barges belonging to the
+Government, which were not worth anything, but which had to be taken to
+pieces in order that the wood might not be lost. The wood was in itself
+all but valueless, for firewood can be bought in the town at a nominal
+price. The whole country is covered with forests.
+
+This work was given to us in order that we might not remain with our
+arms crossed. This was understood on both sides. Accordingly, we went to
+it apathetically; though just the contrary happened when work had to be
+done, which would be profitable, or when a fixed task was assigned to
+us. In this latter case, although prisoners were to derive no profit
+from their work, they tried to get it over as soon as possible, and took
+a pride in doing it quickly. When such work as I am speaking of had to
+be done as a matter of form, rather than because it was necessary, task
+work could not be asked for. We had to go on until the beating of the
+drum at eleven o'clock called back the convicts.
+
+The day was warm and foggy, the snow was on the point of melting. Our
+entire band walked towards the bank behind the fortress, shaking lightly
+their chains hid beneath their garments: the sound came forth clear and
+ringing. Two or three convicts went to get their tools from the depot.
+
+I walked on with the others. I had become a little animated, for I
+wanted to see and know in what this field labour consisted, to what sort
+of work I was condemned, and how I should do it for the first time in my
+life.
+
+I remember the smallest particulars. We met, as we were walking along, a
+townsman with a long beard, who stopped and slipped his hand into his
+pocket. A prisoner left our party, took off his cap and received
+alms--to the extent of five kopecks--then came back hurriedly towards
+us. The townsman made the sign of the cross and went his way. The five
+kopecks were spent the same morning in buying cakes of white bread
+which were shared equally among us. In my squad some were gloomy and
+taciturn, others indifferent and indolent. There were some who talked in
+an idle manner. One of these men was extremely gay, heaven knows why. He
+sang and danced as we went along, shaking and ringing his chains at each
+step. This fat and corpulent convict was the very one who, on the very
+day of my arrival during the general washing, had a quarrel with one of
+his companions about the water, and had ventured to compare him to some
+sort of bird. His name was Scuratoff. He finished by shouting out a
+lively song of which I remember the burden:
+
+
+     They married me without my consent,
+     When I was at the mill.
+
+
+Nothing was wanting but a balalaika [the Russian banjo].
+
+His extraordinary good-humour was justly reproved by several of the
+prisoners, who were offended by it.
+
+"Listen to his hallooing," said one of the convicts, "though it doesn't
+become him."
+
+"The wolf has but one song; this Tuliak [inhabitant of Tula] is stealing
+it from him," said another, who could be recognised by his accent as a
+Little Russian.
+
+"Of course I am from Tula," replied Scuratoff; "but we don't stuff
+ourselves to bursting as you do in your Pultava."
+
+"Liar! what did you eat yourself? Bark shoes and cabbage soup?"
+
+"You talk as if the devil fed you on sweet almonds," broke in a third.
+
+"I admit, my friend, that I am an effeminate man," said Scuratoff with a
+gentle sigh, as though he were really reproaching himself for his
+effeminacy. "From my most tender infancy I was brought up in luxury, fed
+on plums and delicate cakes. My brothers even now have a large business
+at Moscow. They are wholesale dealers in the wind that blows; immensely
+rich men, as you may imagine."
+
+"And what did you sell?"
+
+"I was very successful, and when I received my first two hundred----"
+
+"Roubles? impossible!" interrupted one of the prisoners, struck with
+amazement at hearing of so large a sum.
+
+"No, my good fellow, not two hundred roubles, two hundred blows of the
+stick. Luka; I say Luka!"
+
+"Some have the right to call me Luka, but for you I am Luka Kouzmitch,"
+replied rather ill-temperedly a small, feeble convict with a pointed
+nose.
+
+"The devil take you, you are really not worth speaking to; yet I wanted
+to be civil to you. But to continue my story; this is how it happened
+that I did not remain any longer at Moscow. I received my fifteen last
+strokes and was then sent off, and was at----"
+
+"But what were you sent for?" asked a convict who had been listening
+attentively.
+
+"Don't ask stupid questions. I was explaining to you how it was I did
+not make my fortune at Moscow; and yet how anxious I was to be rich, you
+could scarcely imagine how much."
+
+Many of the prisoners began to laugh. Scuratoff was one of those lively
+persons, full of animal spirits, who take a pleasure in amusing their
+graver companions, and who, as a matter of course, received no reward
+except insults. He belonged to a type of men, to whose characteristics I
+shall, perhaps, have to return.
+
+"And what a fellow he is now!" observed Luka Kouzmitch. "His clothes
+alone must be worth a hundred roubles."
+
+Scuratoff had the oldest and greasiest sheepskin that could be seen. It
+was mended in many different places with pieces that scarcely hung
+together. He looked at Luka attentively from head to foot.
+
+"It is my head, friend," he said, "my head that is worth money. When I
+took farewell of Moscow, I was half consoled, because my head was to
+make the journey on my shoulders. Farewell, Moscow, I shall never
+forget your free air, nor the tremendous flogging I got. As for my
+sheepskin, you are not obliged to look at it."
+
+"You would like me, perhaps, to look at your head?"
+
+"If it was really his own natural property, but it was given him in
+charity," cried Luka Kouzmitch. "It was a gift made to him at Tumen,
+when the convoy was passing through the town."
+
+"Scuratoff, had you a workshop?"
+
+"What workshop could he have? He was only a cobbler," said one of the
+convicts.
+
+"It is true," said Scuratoff, without noticing the caustic tone of the
+speaker. "I tried to mend boots, but I never got beyond a single pair."
+
+"And were you paid for them?"
+
+"Well, I found a fellow who certainly neither feared God nor honoured
+either his father or his mother, and as a punishment, Providence made
+him buy the work of my hands."
+
+The men around Scuratoff burst into a laugh.
+
+"I also worked once at the convict prison," continued Scuratoff, with
+imperturbable coolness. "I did up the boots of Stepan Fedoritch, the
+lieutenant."
+
+"And was he satisfied?"
+
+"No, my dear fellows, indeed he was not; he blackguarded me enough to
+last me for the rest of my life. He also pushed me from behind with his
+knee. What a rage he was in! Ah! my life has deceived me. I see no fun
+in the convict prison whatever." He began to sing again.
+
+
+     Akolina's husband is in the court-yard.
+       There he waits.
+
+
+Again he sang, and again he danced and leaped.
+
+"Most unbecoming!" murmured the Little Russian, who was walking by my
+side.
+
+"Frivolous man!" said another in a serious, decided tone.
+
+I could not make out why they insulted Scuratoff, nor why they despised
+those convicts who were light-hearted, as they seemed to do. I
+attributed the anger of the Little Russian and the others to a feeling
+of personal hostility, but in this I was wrong. They were vexed that
+Scuratoff had not that puffed-up air of false dignity with which the
+whole of the convict prison was impregnated.
+
+They did not, however, get annoyed with all the jokers, nor treat them
+all like Scuratoff. Some of them were men who would stand no nonsense,
+and forgive no one voluntarily or involuntarily. It was necessary to
+treat them with respect. There was in our band a convict of this very
+kind, a good-natured, lively fellow, whom I did not see in his true
+light until later on. He was a tall young fellow, with pleasant manners,
+and not without good looks. There was at the same time a very comic
+expression on his face.
+
+He was called the Sapper, because he had served in the Engineers. He
+belonged to the special section.
+
+But all the serious-minded convicts were not so particular as the Little
+Russian, who could not bear to see people gay.
+
+We had in our prison several men who aimed at a certain pre-eminence,
+either in virtue of skill at their work, of their general ingenuity, of
+their character, or their wit. Many of them were intelligent and
+energetic, and reached the point they were aiming at--pre-eminence, that
+is to say, and moral influence over their companions. They often hated
+one another, and they excited general envy. They looked upon other
+convicts with a dignified air, that was full of condescension; and they
+never quarrelled without a cause. Favourably looked upon by the
+administration, they in some measure directed the work, and none of them
+would have lowered himself so far as to quarrel with a man about his
+songs. All these men were very polite to me during the whole time of my
+imprisonment, but not at all communicative.
+
+At last we reached the bank; a little lower down was the old hulk, which
+we were to break up, stuck fast in the ice. On the other side of the
+water was the blue steppe and the sad horizon. I expected to see every
+one go to work at once. Nothing of the kind. Some of the convicts sat
+down negligently on wooden beams that were lying near the shore, and
+nearly all took from their pockets pouches containing native
+tobacco--which was sold in leaf at the market at the rate of three
+kopecks a pound--and short wooden pipes. They lighted them while the
+soldiers formed a circle around them, and began to watch us with a tired
+look.
+
+"Who the devil had the idea of sinking this barque?" asked one of the
+convicts in a loud voice, without speaking to any one in particular.
+
+"Were they very anxious, then, to have it broken up?"
+
+"The people were not afraid to give us work," said another.
+
+"Where are all those peasants going to work?" said the first, after a
+short silence.
+
+He had not even heard his companion's answer. He pointed with his finger
+to the distance, where a troop of peasants were marching in file across
+the virgin snow.
+
+All the convicts turned negligently towards this side, and began from
+mere idleness to laugh at the peasants as they approached them. One of
+them, the last of the line, walked very comically with his arms apart,
+and his head on one side. He wore a tall pointed cap. His shadow threw
+itself in clear lines on the white snow.
+
+"Look how our brother Petrovitch is dressed," said one of my companions,
+imitating the pronunciation of the peasants of the locality. One amusing
+thing--the convicts looked down on peasants, although they were for the
+most part peasants by origin.
+
+"The last one, too, above all, looks as if he were planting radishes."
+
+"He is an important personage, he has lots of money," said a third.
+
+They all began to laugh without, however, seeming genuinely amused.
+
+During this time a woman selling cakes came up. She was a brisk, lively
+person, and it was with her that the five kopecks given by the townsman
+were spent.
+
+The young fellow who sold white bread in the convict prison took two
+dozen of her cakes, and had a long discussion with the woman in order to
+get a reduction in price. She would not, however, agree to his terms.
+
+At last the non-commissioned officer appointed to superintend the work
+came up with a cane in his hand.
+
+"What are you sitting down for? Begin at once."
+
+"Give us our tasks, Ivan Matveitch," said one of the "foremen" among us,
+as he slowly got up.
+
+"What more do you want? Take out the barque, that is your task."
+
+Then ultimately the convicts got up and went to the river, but very
+slowly. Different "directors" appeared, "directors," at least, in words.
+The barque was not to be broken up anyhow. The latitudinal and
+longitudinal beams were to be preserved, and this was not an easy thing
+to manage.
+
+"Draw this beam out, that is the first thing to do," cried a convict who
+was neither a director nor a foreman, but a simple workman. This man,
+very quiet and a little stupid, had not previously spoken. He now bent
+down, took hold of a heavy beam with both hands, and waited for some one
+to help him. No one, however, seemed inclined to do so.
+
+"Not you, indeed, you will never manage it; not even your grandfather,
+the bear, could do it," muttered some one between his teeth.
+
+"Well, my friend, are we to begin? As for me, I can do nothing alone,"
+said, with a morose air, the man who had put himself forward, and who
+now, quitting the beam, held himself upright.
+
+"Unless you are going to do all the work by yourself, what are you in
+such a hurry about?"
+
+"I was only speaking," said the poor fellow, excusing himself for his
+forwardness.
+
+"Must you have blankets to keep yourselves warm, or are you to be
+heated for the winter?" cried a non-commissioned officer to the twenty
+men who seemed to loathe to begin work. "Go on at once."
+
+"It is never any use being in a hurry, Ivan Matveitch."
+
+"But you are doing nothing at all, Savelieff. What are you casting your
+eyes about for? Are they for sale, by chance? Come, go on."
+
+"What can I do alone?"
+
+"Set us tasks, Ivan Matveitch."
+
+"I told you before that I had no task to give you. Attack the barque,
+and when you have finished we will go back to the house. Come, begin."
+
+The prisoners began work, but with no good-will, and very indolently.
+The irritation of the chief at seeing these vigorous men remain so idle
+was intelligible enough. While the first rivet was being removed it
+suddenly snapped.
+
+"It broke to pieces," said the convict in self-justification. It was
+impossible, then, they suggested, to work in such a manner. What was to
+be done? A long discussion took place between the prisoners, and little
+by little they came to insults; nor did this seem likely to be the end
+of it. The under officer cried out again as he agitated his stick, but
+the second rivet snapped like the first. It was then agreed that
+hatchets were of no use, and that other tools must be procured.
+Accordingly, two prisoners were sent under escort to the fortress to get
+the proper instruments. Waiting their return, the other convicts sat
+down on the bank as calmly as possible, pulled out their pipes and began
+again to smoke. Finally, the under officer spat with contempt.
+
+"Well," he exclaimed, "the work you are doing will not kill you. Oh,
+what people, what people!" he grumbled, with an ill-natured air. He then
+made a gesture, and went away to the fortress, brandishing his cane.
+
+After an hour the "conductor" arrived. He listened quietly to what the
+convicts had to say, declared that the task he gave them was to get off
+four rivets unbroken, and to demolish a good part of the barque. As
+soon as this was done the prisoners could go back to the house. The task
+was a considerable one, but, good heavens! how the convicts now went to
+work! Where now was their idleness, their want of skill? The hatchets
+soon began to dance, and soon the rivets were sprung. Those who had no
+hatchets made use of thick sticks to push beneath the rivets, and thus
+in due time and in artistic fashion, they got them out. The convicts
+seemed suddenly to have become intelligent in their conversation. No
+more insults were heard. Every one knew perfectly what to say, to do, to
+advise. Just half-an-hour before the beating of the drum, the appointed
+task was executed, and the prisoners returned to the convict prison
+fatigued, but pleased to have gained half-an-hour from the working time
+fixed by the regulations.
+
+As regards myself, I have only one thing to say. Wherever I stood to
+help the workers I was never in my place; they always drove me away, and
+generally insulted me. Any one of the ragged lot, any miserable workman
+who would not have dared to say a syllable to the other convicts, all
+more intelligent and skilful than he, assumed the right of swearing at
+me if I went near him, under pretext that I interfered with him in his
+work. At last one of the best of them said to me frankly, but coarsely:
+
+"What do you want here? Be off with you! Why do you come when no one
+calls you?"
+
+"That is it," added another.
+
+"You would do better to take a pitcher," said a third, "and carry water
+to the house that is being built, or go to the tobacco factory. You are
+no good here."
+
+I was obliged to keep apart. To remain idle while others were working
+seemed a shame; but when I went to the other end of the barque I was
+insulted anew.
+
+"What men we have to work!" was the cry. "What can be done with fellows
+of this kind?"
+
+All this was said spitefully. They were pleased to have the opportunity
+of laughing at a gentleman.
+
+It will now be understood that my first thought on entering the convict
+prison was to ask myself how I should ever get on with such people. I
+foresaw that such incidents would often be repeated; but I resolved not
+to change my conduct in any way, whatever might be the result. I had
+decided to live simply and intelligently, without manifesting the least
+desire to approach my companions; but also without repelling them, if
+they themselves desired to approach me; in no way to fear their threats
+or their hatred; and to pretend as much as possible not to be affected
+by them. Such was my plan. I saw from the first that they would despise
+me, if I adopted any other course.
+
+When I returned in the evening to the convict prison, having finished my
+afternoon's work, fatigued and harassed, a deep sadness took possession
+of me. "How many thousands of days have I to pass like this one?" Always
+the same thought. I walked about alone and meditated as night fell,
+when, suddenly, near the palisade behind the barracks, I saw my friend,
+Bull, who ran towards me.
+
+Bull was the dog of the prison; for the prison has its dog as companies
+of infantry, batteries of artillery, and squadrons of cavalry have
+theirs. He had been there for a long time, belonged to no one, looked
+upon every one as his master, and lived on the remains from the kitchen.
+He was a good-sized black dog, spotted with white, not very old, with
+intelligent eyes, and a bushy tail. No one caressed him or paid the
+least attention to him. As soon as I arrived I made friends with him by
+giving him a piece of bread. When I patted him on the back he remained
+motionless, looked at me with a pleased expression, and gently wagged
+his tail.
+
+That evening, not having seen me the whole day--me, the first person who
+in so many years had thought of caressing him--he ran towards me,
+leaping and barking. It had such an effect on me that I could not help
+embracing him. I placed his head against my body. He placed his paws on
+my shoulders and looked me in the face.
+
+"Here is a friend sent to me by destiny," I said to myself, and during
+the first weeks, so full of pain, every time that I came back from work
+I hastened, before doing anything else, to go to the back of the
+barracks with Bull, who leaped with joy before me. I took his head in my
+hands and kissed it. At the same time a troubled, bitter feeling pressed
+my heart. I well remember thinking--and taking pleasure in the
+thought--that this was my one, my only friend in the world--my faithful
+dog, Bull.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+NEW ACQUAINTANCES--PETROFF
+
+
+Time went on, and little by little I accustomed myself to my new life.
+The scenes I had daily before me no longer afflicted me so much. In a
+word, the convict prison, its inhabitants, and its manners, left me
+indifferent. To get reconciled to this life was impossible, but I had to
+accept it as an inevitable fact. I had driven entirely away from me all
+the anxiety by which I had at first been troubled. I no longer wandered
+through the convict prison like a lost soul, and no longer allowed
+myself to be subjugated by my anxiety. The wild curiosity of the
+convicts had had its edge taken off, and I was no longer looked upon
+with that affectation or insolence previously displayed. They had become
+indifferent to me, and I was very glad of it. I began to feel at home in
+the barracks. I knew where to go and sleep at night; gradually I became
+accustomed to things the very idea of which would formerly have been
+repugnant to me. I went every week regularly to have my head shaved. We
+were called every Saturday one after another to the guard-house. The
+regimental barbers lathered our skulls with cold water and soap, and
+scraped us afterwards with their saw-like razors.
+
+Merely the thought of this torture gives me a shudder. I soon found a
+remedy for it--Akim Akimitch pointed it out to me--a prisoner in the
+military section who for one kopeck shaved those who paid for it with
+his own razor. This was his trade. Many of the prisoners were his
+customers merely to avoid the military barbers, yet these were not men
+of weak nerves. Our barber was called the "major," why, I cannot say. As
+far as I know he possessed no points of resemblance with any major. As I
+write these lines I see clearly before me the "major" and his thin face.
+He was a tall fellow, silent, rather stupid, absorbed entirely by his
+business; he was never to be seen without a strop in his hand, on which
+day and night he sharpened a razor, which was always in admirable
+condition. He had certainly made this work the supreme object of his
+life; he was really happy when his razor was quite sharp and his
+services were in request; his soap was always warm, and he had a very
+light hand--a hand of velvet. He was proud of his skill, and used to
+take with a careless air the kopeck he received; one might have thought
+that he worked from love of his art, and not in order to gain money.
+
+A----f was soundly corrected by our real Major one day, because he had
+the misfortune to say the "major" when he was speaking of the barber who
+shaved him. The real Major was in a violent rage.
+
+"Blackguard," he cried, "do you know what a major is?" and according to
+his habit he shook A----f violently. "The idea of calling a scoundrel of
+a convict a 'major' in my presence."
+
+From the first day of my imprisonment I began to dream of my liberation.
+My favourite occupation was to count thousands and thousands of times in
+a thousand different manners the number of days that I should have to
+pass in prison. I thought of that only, and every one deprived of his
+liberty for a fixed time does the same; of that I am certain. I cannot
+say that all the convicts had the same degree of hopefulness, but their
+sanguine character often astonished me. The hopefulness of a prisoner
+differs essentially from that of a free man. The latter may desire an
+amelioration in his position, or a realisation of some enterprise which
+he has undertaken, but meanwhile he lives, he acts; he is swept away in
+the whirlwind of real life. Nothing of the kind takes place in the case
+of the convict for life. He lives also in a way, but not being condemned
+to a fixed number of years, he takes a vaguer view of his situation than
+the one who is imprisoned for a definite term. The man condemned for a
+comparatively short period feels that he is not at home; he looks upon
+himself, so to say, as on a visit; he regards the twenty years of his
+punishment as two years at most; he is sure that at fifty, when he has
+finished his sentence, he will be as young and as lively as at
+thirty-five. "We have time before us," he thinks, and he strives
+obstinately to dispel discouraging thoughts. Even a man sentenced for
+life thinks that some day an order may arrive from St.
+Petersburg--"Transport such a one to the mines at Nertchinsk and fix a
+term for his detention." It would be famous, first because it takes six
+months to get to Nertchinsk, and the life on the road is a hundred times
+preferable to the convict prison. He would finish his time at
+Nertchinsk, and then--more than one gray-haired old man speculates in
+this way.
+
+At Tobolsk I have seen men fastened to the wall by a chain about two
+yards long; by their side they have their bed. They are thus chained for
+some terrible crime committed after their transportation to Siberia;
+they are kept chained up for five, ten years. They are nearly all
+brigands, and I only saw one of them who looked like a man of good
+breeding; he had been in some branch of the Civil Service, and spoke in
+a soft, lisping way; his smile was sweet but sickly; he showed us his
+chain, and pointed out to us the most convenient way of lying down. He
+must have been a nice person! All these poor wretches are perfectly
+well-behaved; they all seem satisfied, and yet their desire to finish
+their period of chains devours them. Why? it will be asked. Because then
+they will leave their low, damp, stifling cells for the court-yard of
+the convict prison, that is all. These last places of confinement they
+will never leave; they know that those who have once been chained up
+will never be liberated, and they will die in irons. They know all this,
+and yet they are very anxious to be no longer chained up. Without this
+hope could they remain five or six years fastened to a wall, and not die
+or go mad?
+
+I soon understood that work alone could save me, by fortifying my health
+and my body, whereas incessant restlessness of mind, nervous irritation,
+and the close air of the barracks would ruin them completely. I should
+go out vigorous and full of elasticity. I did not deceive myself, work
+and movement were very useful to me.
+
+I saw one of my comrades, to my terror, melt away like a piece of wax;
+and yet, when he was with me in the convict prison, he was young,
+handsome, and vigorous; when he left his health was ruined, and his legs
+could no longer support him. His chest, too, was oppressed by asthma.
+
+"No," I said to myself, as I gazed upon him; "I wish to live, and I will
+live."
+
+My love for work exposed me in the first place to the contempt and
+bitter laughter of my comrades; but I paid no attention to them, and
+went away with a light heart wherever I was sent. Sometimes, for
+instance, to break and pound alabaster. This work, the first that was
+given to me, is easy. The engineers did their utmost to lighten the
+task-work of all the gentlemen; this was not indulgence, but simple
+justice. Would it not have been strange to require the same work from a
+labourer as from a man whose strength was less by half, and who had
+never worked with his hands? But we were not "spoilt" in this way for
+ever, and we were only spared in secret, for we were severely watched.
+As real severe work was by no means rare, it often happened that the
+task given to us was beyond the strength of the gentlemen, who thus
+suffered twice as much as their comrades.
+
+Generally three or four men were sent to pound the alabaster, and
+nearly always old men or feeble ones were chosen. We were of the latter
+class. A man skilled in this particular kind of work was sent with us.
+For several years it was always the same man, Almazoff by name. He was
+severe, already in years, sunburnt, and very thin, by no means
+communicative, moreover, and difficult to get on with. He despised us
+profoundly; but he was of such a reserved disposition that he never
+broke it sufficient to call us names. The shed in which we calcined the
+alabaster was built on a sloping and deserted bank of the river. In
+winter, on a foggy day, the view was sad, both on the river and on the
+opposite shore, even to a great distance. There was something
+heartrending in this dull, naked landscape, but it was still sadder when
+a brilliant sun shone above the boundless white plain. How one would
+have liked to fly away beyond this steppe, which began on the opposite
+shore and stretched out for fifteen hundred versts to the south like an
+immense table-cloth.
+
+Almazoff went to work silently, with a disagreeable air. We were ashamed
+not to be able to help him more effectually, but he managed to do his
+work without our assistance, and seemed to wish to make us understand
+that we were acting unjustly towards him, and that we ought to repent
+our uselessness. Our work consisted in heating the oven in order to
+calcine the alabaster that we had got together in a heap.
+
+The day following, when the alabaster was entirely calcined, we turned
+it out. Each one filled a box of alabaster, which he afterwards crushed.
+This work was not disagreeable. The fragile alabaster soon became a
+white, brilliant dust. We brandished our heavy hammers, and dealt such
+formidable blows, that we admired our own strength. When we were tired
+we felt lighter, our cheeks were red, the blood circulated more rapidly
+in our veins. Almazoff would then look at us in a condescending manner,
+as he would have looked at little children. He smoked his pipe with an
+indulgent air, unable, however, to prevent himself from grumbling. When
+he opened his mouth he was never otherwise, and he was the same with
+every one. At bottom I believe he was a kind man.
+
+They gave me another kind of labour, which consisted in working the
+turning wheel. This wheel was high and heavy, and great efforts were
+necessary to make it go round, above all when the workmen from the
+workshop of the engineers used to make the balustrade of a staircase or
+the foot of a large table, which required almost the whole trunk. No one
+man could have done the work alone. To two convicts, B---- (formerly
+gentleman) and myself, this work was given nearly always for several
+years, whenever there was anything to turn. B---- was weak, even still
+young, and somewhat sympathetic. He had been sent to prison a year
+before me, with two companions who were also of noble birth. One of
+them, an old man, used to pray day and night. The prisoners respected
+him greatly for it. He died in prison. The other one was quite a young
+man, fresh-coloured, strong, and courageous. He had carried his
+companion B---- for several hundred versts, seeing that at the end of
+the first half-stage he had fallen down from fatigue. Their friendship
+for one another was something to see.
+
+B---- was a perfectly well-bred man, of noble and generous disposition,
+but spoiled and irritated by illness. We used to turn the wheel well
+together, and the work interested us. As for me, I found the exercise
+most salutary.
+
+I was very--too--fond of shovelling away the snow, which we generally
+did after the hurricanes, so frequent in the winter. When the hurricane
+had been raging for an entire day, more than one house would be buried
+up to the windows, even if it was not covered over entirely. The
+hurricane ceased, the sun reappeared, and we were ordered to disengage
+the houses, barricaded as they were by heaps of snow.
+
+We were sent in large bands, sometimes the whole of the convicts
+together. Each of us received a shovel and had an appointed task to do,
+which it sometimes seemed impossible to get through. But we all went to
+work with a good-will. The light dust-like snow had not yet congealed,
+and was frozen only on the surface. We removed it in enormous
+shovelfuls, which were dispersed around us. In the air the snow-dust was
+as brilliant as diamonds. The shovel sank easily into the white
+glittering mass. The convicts did this work almost always with gaiety,
+the cold winter air and the exercise animated them. Every one felt
+himself in better spirits, laughter and jokes were heard, snowballs were
+exchanged, which after a time excited the indignation of the
+serious-minded convicts, who liked neither laughter nor gaiety.
+Accordingly these scenes finished almost always in showers of insults.
+
+Little by little the circle of my acquaintances increased, although I
+never thought of making new ones. I was always restless, morose, and
+mistrustful. Acquaintances, however, were made involuntarily. The first
+who came to visit me was the convict Petroff. I say visit, and I retain
+the word, for he lived in the special division which was at the farthest
+end of the barracks from mine. It seemed as if no relations could exist
+between him and me, for we had nothing in common.
+
+Nevertheless, during the first period of my stay, Petroff thought it his
+duty to come towards me nearly every day, or at least to stop me when,
+after work, I went for a stroll at the back of the barracks as far as
+possible from observation. His persistence was disagreeable to me; but
+he managed so well that his visits became at last a pleasing diversion,
+although he was by no means of a communicative disposition. He was
+short, strongly built, agile, and skilful. He had rather an agreeable
+voice, and high cheek-bones, a bold look, and white, regular teeth. He
+had always a quid of tobacco in his mouth between the lower lip and the
+gums. Many of the convicts had the habit of chewing. He seemed to me
+younger than he really was, for he did not appear to be more than
+thirty, and he was really forty. He spoke to me without any ceremony,
+and behaved to me on a footing of equality with civility and attention.
+If, for instance, he saw that I wished to be alone, he would talk to me
+for about two minutes and then go away. He thanked me, moreover, each
+time for my kindness in conversing with him, which he never did to any
+one else. I must add that his relations underwent no change not only
+during the first period of my story, but for several years, and that
+they never became more intimate, although he was really my friend. I
+never could say exactly what he looked for in my society, nor why he
+came every day to see me. He robbed me sometimes, but almost
+involuntarily. He never came to me to borrow money; so that what
+attracted him was not personal interest.
+
+It seemed to me, I know not why, that this man did not live in the same
+prison with me, but in another house in the town, far away. It appeared
+as though he had come to the convict prison by chance in order to pick
+up news, to inquire for me, in short, to see how I was getting on. He
+was always in a hurry, as though he had left some one for a moment who
+was waiting for him, or as if he had given up for a time some matter of
+business. And yet he never hurried himself. His look was strongly fixed,
+with a slight air of levity and irony. He had a habit of looking into
+the distance above the objects near him, as though he were endeavouring
+to distinguish something behind the person to whom he was talking. He
+always seemed absent-minded. I sometimes asked myself where he went when
+he left me, where could Petroff be so anxiously expected? He would
+simply go with a light step to one of the barracks or to the kitchen,
+and sit down to hear the conversation. He listened attentively, and
+joined in with animation; after which he would suddenly become silent.
+But whether he spoke or kept silent, one could always see on his
+countenance that he had business somewhere else, and that some one was
+waiting for him in the town, not very far away. The most astonishing
+thing was that he never had any business--apart, of course, from the
+hard labour assigned to him. He knew no trade, and had scarcely ever any
+money. But that did not seem to grieve him. Why did he speak to me? His
+conversation was as strange as he himself was singular. When he noticed
+that I was walking alone at the back of the barracks he made a stand,
+and turned towards me. He walked very fast, and when I turned he was
+suddenly on his heel. He approached me walking, but so quickly that he
+seemed to be going at a run.
+
+"Good-morning."
+
+"Good-morning."
+
+"I am not disturbing you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"I wish to ask you something about Napoleon. I wanted to ask you if he
+is not a relation of the one who came to us in the year 1812."
+
+Petroff was a soldier's son, and knew how to read and write.
+
+"Of course he is."
+
+"People say he is President. What President--and of what?"
+
+His questions were always rapid and abrupt, as though he wished to know
+as soon as possible what he asked. I explained to him of what Napoleon
+was President, and I added that perhaps he would become Emperor.
+
+"How will that be?"
+
+I explained it to him as well as I could; Petroff listened with
+attention. He understood perfectly all I told him, and added, as he
+leant his ear towards me:
+
+"Hem! Ah, I wished to ask you, Alexander Petrovitch, if there are really
+monkeys who have hands instead of feet, and are as tall as a man?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What are they like?"
+
+I described them to him, and told him what I knew on the subject.
+
+"And where do they live?"
+
+"In warm climates. There are some to be found in the island of
+Sumatra."
+
+"Is that in America? I have heard that people there walk with their
+heads downwards."
+
+"No, no; you are thinking of the Antipodes." I explained to him as well
+as I could what America was, and what the Antipodes. He listened to me
+as attentively as if the question of the Antipodes had alone caused him
+to approach me.
+
+"Ah, ah! I read last year the story of the Countess de la Valliere.
+Arevieff had bought this book from the Adjutant. Is it true or is it an
+invention? The work is by Dumas."
+
+"It is an invention, no doubt."
+
+"Ah, indeed. Good-bye. I am much obliged to you."
+
+And Petroff disappeared. The above may be taken as a specimen of our
+ordinary conversation.
+
+I made inquiries about him. M---- thought he had better speak to me on
+the subject, when he learnt what an acquaintance I had made. He told me
+that many convicts had excited his horror on their arrival; but not one
+of them, not even Gazin, had produced upon him such a frightful
+impression as this Petroff.
+
+"He is the most resolute, most to be feared of all the convicts," said
+M----. "He is capable of anything, nothing stops him if he has a
+caprice. He will assassinate you, if the fancy takes him, without
+hesitation and without the least remorse. I often think he is not in his
+right senses."
+
+This declaration interested me extremely; but M---- was never able to
+tell me why he had such an opinion of Petroff. Strangely enough, for
+many years together I saw this man and talked with him nearly every day.
+He was always my sincere friend, though I could not at the time tell
+why, and during the whole time he lived very quietly, and did nothing
+extreme. I am moreover convinced that M---- was right, and that he was
+perhaps a most intrepid man and the most difficult to restrain in the
+whole prison. And why so, I can scarcely explain.
+
+This Petroff was that very convict who, when he was called up to receive
+his punishment, had wished to kill the Major. I have told you the latter
+was saved by a miracle--that he had gone away one minute before the
+punishment was inflicted.
+
+Once when he was still a soldier--before his arrival at the convict
+prison--his Colonel had struck him on parade. Probably he had often been
+beaten before, but that day he was not in a humour to bear an insult, in
+open day, before the battalion drawn up in line. He killed his Colonel.
+I don't know all the details of the story, for he never told it to me
+himself. It must be understood that these explosions only took place
+when the nature within him spoke too loudly, and these occasions were
+rare; as a rule he was serious and even quiet. His strong, ardent
+passions were not burnt out, but smouldering, like burning coals beneath
+ashes.
+
+I never noticed that he was vain, or given to bragging like so many
+other convicts. He hardly ever quarrelled, but he was on friendly
+relations with scarcely any one, except, perhaps, Sirotkin, and then
+only when he had need of him. I saw him, however, one day seriously
+irritated. Some one had offended him by refusing him something he
+wanted. He was disputing on the point with a tall convict, as vigorous
+as an athlete, named Vassili Antonoff, known for his nagging, spiteful
+disposition. The man, however, who belonged to the class of civil
+convicts, was far from being a coward. They shouted at one another for
+some time, and I thought the quarrel would finish like so many others of
+the same kind, by simple interchange of abuse. The affair took an
+unexpected turn. Petroff only suddenly turned pale, his lips trembled,
+and turned blue, his respiration became difficult. He got up, and
+slowly, very slowly, and with imperceptible steps--he liked to walk
+about with his feet naked--approached Antonoff; at once the noise of
+shouting gave place to a death-like silence--a fly passing through the
+air might have been heard--every one anxiously awaited the event.
+Antonoff pointed to his adversary. His face was no longer human. I was
+unable to endure the scene, and I left the prison. I was certain that
+before I got to the staircase I should hear the shrieks of a man who was
+being murdered; but nothing of the kind took place. Before Petroff had
+succeeded in getting up to Antonoff, the latter threw him the object
+which had caused the quarrel--a miserable rag, a worn-out piece of
+lining.
+
+Of course afterwards, Antonoff did not fail to call Petroff names,
+merely as a matter of conscience, and from a feeling of what was right,
+in order to show that he had not been too much afraid; but Petroff paid
+no attention to his insults, he did not even answer him. Everything had
+ended to his advantage, and the insults scarcely affected him; he was
+glad to have got his piece of rag.
+
+A quarter of an hour later he was strolling about the barracks quite
+unoccupied, looking for some group whose conversation might possibly
+gratify his curiosity. Everything seemed to interest him, and yet he
+remained apparently indifferent to all he heard. He might have been
+compared to a workman, a vigorous workman, whom the work fears; but who,
+for the moment, has nothing to do, and condescends meanwhile to put out
+his strength in playing with his children. I did not understand why he
+remained in prison, why he did not escape. He would not have hesitated
+to get away if he had really desired to do so. Reason has no power on
+people like Petroff unless they are spurred on by will. When they desire
+something there are no obstacles in their way. I am certain that he
+would have been clever enough to escape, that he would have deceived
+every one, that he would have remained for a time without eating, hid in
+a forest, or in the bulrushes of the river; but the idea had evidently
+not occurred to him. I never noticed in him much judgment or good sense.
+People like him are born with one idea, which, without being aware of
+it, pursues them all their life. They wander until they meet with some
+object which apparently excites their desire, and then they do not mind
+risking their head. I was sometimes astonished that a man who had
+assassinated his Colonel for having been struck, would lie down without
+opposition beneath the rods, for he was always flogged when he was
+detected introducing spirits into the prison. Like all those who had no
+settled occupation, he smuggled in spirits; then, if caught, he would
+allow himself to be whipped as though he consented to the punishment,
+and confessed himself in the wrong. Otherwise they would have killed him
+rather than make him lie down. More than once I was astonished to see
+that he was robbing me in spite of his affection for me; but he did so
+from time to time. Thus he stole my Bible, which I had asked him to
+carry to its place. He had only a few steps to go; but on his way he met
+with a purchaser, to whom he sold the book, at once spending the money
+he had received on vodka. Probably he felt that day a violent desire for
+drink, and when he desired something it was necessary that he should
+have it. A man like Petroff will assassinate any one for twenty-five
+kopecks, simply to get himself a pint of vodka. On any other occasion he
+will disdain hundreds and thousands of roubles. He told me the same
+evening of the theft he had committed, but without showing the least
+sign of repentance or confusion, in a perfectly indifferent tone, as
+though he were speaking of an ordinary incident. I endeavoured to
+reprove him as he deserved, for I regretted the loss of my Bible. He
+listened to me without hesitation very calmly. He agreed that the Bible
+was a very useful book, and sincerely regretted that I had it no longer;
+but he was not for one moment sorry, though he had stolen it. He looked
+at me with such assurance that I gave up scolding him. He bore my
+reproaches because he thought I could not do otherwise than I was doing.
+He knew that he ought to be punished for such an action, and
+consequently thought I ought to abuse him for my own satisfaction, and
+to console myself for my loss. But in his inner heart he considered
+that it was all nonsense, to which a serious man ought to be ashamed to
+descend. I believe even that he looked upon me as a child, an infant,
+who does not yet understand the simplest things in the world. If I spoke
+to him of anything, except books and matters of knowledge, he would
+answer me, but only from politeness, and in laconic phrases. I wondered
+what made him question me so much on the subject of books. I looked at
+him carefully during our conversation to assure myself that he was not
+laughing at me; but no, he listened seriously, and with an attention
+which was genuine, though not always maintained. This latter
+circumstance irritated me sometimes. The questions he put to me were
+clear and precise, and he always seemed prepared for the answer. He had
+made up his mind once for all that it was no use speaking to me as to
+other matters, and that, apart from books, I understood nothing. I am
+certain that he was attached to me, and much that fact astonished me;
+but he looked upon me as a child, or as an imperfect man. He felt for me
+that sort of compassion which every stronger being feels for a weaker;
+he took me for--I do not know what he took me for. Although this
+compassion did not prevent him from robbing me, I am sure that in doing
+so he pitied me.
+
+"What a strange person!" he must have said to himself, as he lay hands
+on my property; "he does not even know how to take care of what he
+possesses." That, I think, is why he liked me. One day he said to me as
+if involuntarily:
+
+"You are too good-natured, you are so simple, so simple that one cannot
+help pitying you. Do not be offended at what I was saying to you,
+Alexander Petrovitch," he added a minute afterwards, "it is not
+ill-meant."
+
+People like Petroff will sometimes, in times of trouble and excitement,
+manifest themselves in a forcible manner; then they find the kind of
+activity which suits them; they are not men of words; they could not be
+instigators and chiefs of insurrections, but they are the men who
+execute and act; they act simply without any fuss, and run just to throw
+themselves against an obstacle with bared breast, neither thinking nor
+fearing. Every one follows them to the foot of the wall, where they
+generally leave their life. I do not think Petroff can have ended well,
+he was marked for a violent end; and if he is not yet dead, that only
+means that the opportunity has not yet presented itself. Who knows,
+however? He will, perhaps, die of extreme old age, quite quietly, after
+having wandered through life, here and there, without an object; but I
+believe M---- was right, and that Petroff was the most determined man in
+the whole convict prison.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+MEN OF DETERMINATION--LUKA
+
+
+It is difficult to speak of these men of determination. In the convict
+prison, as elsewhere, they are rare. They can be known by the fear they
+inspire; people beware of them. An irresistible feeling urged me first
+of all to turn away from them, but I afterwards changed my point of
+view, even in regard to the most frightful murderers. There are men who
+have never killed any one, and who, nevertheless, are more atrocious
+than those who have assassinated six persons. It is impossible to form
+an idea of certain crimes, of so strange a nature are they.
+
+A type of murderers that one often meets with is the following: A man
+lives calmly and peacefully. His fate is a hard one, but he puts up with
+it. He is a peasant attached to the soil, a domestic serf, a shopkeeper,
+or a soldier. Suddenly he finds something give way within him; what he
+has hitherto suffered he can bear no longer, and he plunges his knife
+into the breast of his oppressor or his enemy. He then goes beyond all
+measure. He has killed his oppressor, his enemy. That can be
+understood--there was cause for that crime; but afterwards he does not
+assassinate his enemies alone, but the first person he happens to meet
+he kills for the pleasure of killing--for an abusive word, for a look,
+to make an equal number, or only because some one is standing in his
+way. He behaves like a drunken man--a man in a delirium. When once he
+has passed the fatal line, he is himself astonished to find that nothing
+sacred exists for him. He breaks through all laws, defies all powers,
+and gives himself boundless license. He enjoys the agitation of his own
+heart and the terror that he inspires. He knows all the same that a
+frightful punishment awaits him. His sensations are probably like those
+of a man who, looking down from a high tower on to the abyss yawning at
+his feet, would be happy to throw himself head first into it in order to
+bring everything to an end. That is what happens with even the most
+quiet, the most commonplace individuals. There are some even who give
+themselves airs in this extremity. The more they were quiet,
+self-effacing before, the more they now swagger and seek to inspire
+fear. The desperate men enjoy the horror they cause; they take pleasure
+in the disgust they excite; they perform acts of madness from despair,
+and care nothing how it must all end, or seem impatient that it should
+end as soon as possible. The most curious thing is that their
+excitement, their exaltation, will last until the pillory. After that
+the thread is cut, the moment is fatal, and the man becomes suddenly
+calm, or, rather, he becomes extinct, a thing without feeling. In the
+pillory all his strength fails him, and he begs pardon of the people.
+Once at the convict prison, he is quite different. No one would ever
+imagine that this white-livered chicken had killed five or six men.
+
+There are some men whom the convict prison does not easily subdue. They
+preserve a certain swagger, a spirit of bravado.
+
+"I say, I am not what you take me for; I have sent six fellows out of
+the world," you will hear them boast; but sooner or later they have all
+to submit. From time to time, the murderer will amuse himself by
+recalling his audacity, his lawlessness when he was in a state of
+despair. He likes at these moments to have some silly fellow before whom
+he can brag, and to whom he will relate his heroic deeds, by pretending
+not to have the least wish to astonish him. "That is the sort of man I
+am," he says.
+
+And with what a refinement of prudent conceit he watches him while he is
+delivering his narrative! In his accent, in every word, this can be
+perceived. Where did he acquire this particular kind of artfulness?
+
+During the long evening of one of the first days of my confinement, I
+was listening to one of these conversations. Thanks to my inexperience I
+took the narrator for the malefactor, a man with an iron character, a
+man to whom Petroff was nothing. The narrator, Luka Kouzmitch, had
+"knocked over" a Major, for no other reason but that it pleased him to
+do so. This Luka Kouzmitch was the smallest and thinnest man in all the
+barracks. He was from the South. He had been a serf, one of those not
+attached to the soil, but who serve their masters as domestics. There
+was something cutting and haughty in his demeanour. He was a little
+bird, but had a beak and nails. The convicts sum up a man instinctively.
+They thought nothing of this one, he was too susceptible and too full of
+conceit.
+
+That evening he was stitching a shirt, seated on his camp-bedstead.
+Close to him was a narrow-minded, stupid, but good-natured and obliging
+fellow, a sort of Colossus, Kobylin by name. Luka often quarrelled with
+him in a neighbourly way, and treated him with a haughtiness which,
+thanks to his good-nature, Kobylin did not notice in the least. He was
+knitting a stocking, and listening to Luka with an indifferent air. Luka
+spoke in a loud voice and very distinctly. He wished every one to hear
+him, though he was apparently speaking only to Kobylin.
+
+"I was sent away," said Luka, sticking his needle in the shirt, "as a
+brigand."
+
+"How long ago?" asked Kobylin.
+
+"When the peas are ripe it will be just a year. Well, we got to K----v,
+and I was put into the convict prison. Around me there were a dozen men
+from Little Russia, well-built, solid, robust fellows, like oxen, and
+how quiet! The food was bad, the Major of the prison did what he liked.
+One day passed, then another, and I soon saw that all these fellows were
+cowards.
+
+"'You are afraid of such an idiot?' I said to them.
+
+"'Go and talk to him yourself,' and they burst out laughing like brutes
+that they were. I held my tongue.
+
+"There was one fellow so droll, so droll," added the narrator, now
+leaving Kobylin to address all who chose to listen.
+
+"This droll fellow was telling them how he had been tried, what he had
+said, and how he had wept with hot tears.
+
+"'There was a dog of a clerk there,' he said, 'who did nothing but write
+and take down every word I said. I told him I wished him at the devil,
+and he actually wrote that down. He troubled me so, that I quite lost my
+head.'"
+
+"Give me some thread, Vasili; the house thread is bad, rotten."
+
+"There is some from the tailor's shop," replied Vasili, handing it over
+to him.
+
+"Well, but about this Major?" said Kobylin, who had been quite
+forgotten.
+
+Luka was only waiting for that. He did not go on at once with his story,
+as though Kobylin were not worth such a mark of attention. He threaded
+his needle quietly, bent his legs lazily beneath him, and at last
+continued as follows:
+
+"I excited the fellows to such an extent that they all called out
+against the Major. That same morning I had borrowed the 'rascal' [prison
+slang for knife] from my neighbour, and had hid it, so as to be ready
+for anything. When the Major arrived, he was as furious as a madman.
+'Come now, you Little Russians,' I whispered to them, 'this is not the
+time for fear.' But, dear me, all their courage had slipped down to the
+soles of their feet, they trembled! The Major came in, he was quite
+drunk.
+
+"'What is this, how do you dare? I am your Tzar, your God,' he cried.
+
+"When he said that he was the Tzar and God, I went up to him with my
+knife in my sleeve.
+
+"'No,' I said to him, 'your high nobility,' and I got nearer and nearer
+to him, 'that cannot be. Your "high nobility" cannot be our Tzar and our
+God.'
+
+"'Ah, you are the man, it is you,' cried the Major; 'you are the leader
+of them.'
+
+"'No,' I answered, and I got still nearer to him; 'no, your "high
+nobility," as every one knows, and as you yourself know, the
+all-powerful God present everywhere is alone in heaven. And we have only
+one Tzar placed above every one else by God himself. He is our monarch,
+your "high nobility." And, your "high nobility," you are as yet only
+Major, and you are our chief only by the grace of the Tzar, and by your
+merits.'
+
+"'How? how? how?' stammered the Major. He could not speak, so astounded
+was he.
+
+"This is how I answered, and I threw myself upon him and thrust my knife
+into his belly up to the hilt. It had been done very quickly; the Major
+tottered, turned, and fell.
+
+"I had thrown my life away.
+
+"'Now, you fellows,' I cried, 'it is for you to pick him up.'"
+
+I will here make a digression from my narrative. The expression, "I am
+the Tzar! I am God!" and other similar ones were once, unfortunately,
+too often employed in the good old times by many commanders. I must
+admit that their number has seriously diminished, and perhaps even the
+last has already disappeared. Let me observe that those who spoke in
+this way were, above all, men promoted from the ranks. The grade of
+officer had turned their brain upside down. After having laboured long
+years beneath the knapsack, they suddenly found themselves officers,
+commanders, and nobles above all. Thanks to their not being accustomed
+to it, and to the first excitement caused by their promotion, they
+contracted an exaggerated idea of their power and importance relatively
+to their subordinates. Before their superiors such men are revoltingly
+servile. The most fawning of them will even say to their superiors that
+they have been common soldiers, and that they do not forget their place.
+But towards their inferiors they are despots without mercy. Nothing
+irritates the convicts so much as such abuses. These overweening
+opinions of their own greatness; this exaggerated idea of their
+immunity, causes hatred in the hearts of the most submissive men, and
+drives the most patient to excesses. Fortunately, all this dates from a
+time that is almost forgotten, and even then the superior authorities
+used to deal very severely with abuses of power. I know more than one
+example of it. What exasperates the convicts above all is disdain or
+repugnance manifested by any one in dealing with them. Those who think
+that it is only necessary to feed and clothe the prisoner, and to act
+towards him in all things according to the law, are much mistaken.
+However much debased he may be, a man exacts instinctively respect for
+his character as a man. Every prisoner knows perfectly that he is a
+convict and a reprobate, and knows the distance which separates him from
+his superiors; but neither the branding irons nor chains will make him
+forget that he is a man. He must, therefore, be treated with humanity.
+Humane treatment may raise up one in whom the divine image has long been
+obscured. It is with the "unfortunate," above all, that humane conduct
+is necessary. It is their salvation, their only joy. I have met with
+some chiefs of a kind and noble character, and I have seen what a
+beneficent influence they exercised over the poor, humiliated men
+entrusted to their care. A few affable words have a wonderful moral
+effect upon the prisoners. They render them as happy as children, and
+make them sincerely grateful towards their chiefs. One other
+remark--they do not like their chiefs to be familiar and too much
+hail-fellow-well-met with them. They wish to respect them, and
+familiarity would prevent this. The prisoners will feel proud, for
+instance, if their chief has a number of decorations; if he has good
+manners; if he is well-considered by a powerful superior; if he is
+severe, but at the same time just, and possesses a consciousness of
+dignity. The convicts prefer such a man to all others. He knows what he
+is worth, and does not insult others. Everything then is for the best.
+
+"You got well skinned for that, I suppose," asked Kobylin.
+
+"As for being skinned, indeed, there is no denying it. Ali, give me the
+scissors. But, what next; are we not going to play at cards to-night?"
+
+"The cards we drank up long ago," remarked Vassili. "If we had not sold
+them to get drink they would be here now."
+
+"If!---- Ifs fetch a hundred roubles a piece on the Moscow market."
+
+"Well, Luka, what did you get for sticking him?" asked Kobylin.
+
+"It brought me five hundred strokes, my friend. It did indeed. They did
+all but kill me," said Luka, once more addressing the assembly and
+without heeding his neighbour Kobylin. "When they gave me those five
+hundred strokes, I was treated with great ceremony. I had never before
+been flogged. What a mass of people came to see me! The whole town had
+assembled to see the brigand, the murderer, receive his punishment. How
+stupid the populace is!--I cannot tell you to what extent. Timoshka the
+executioner undressed me and laid me down and cried out, 'Look out, I am
+going to grill you!' I waited for the first stroke. I wanted to cry out,
+but could not. It was no use opening my mouth, my voice had gone. When
+he gave me the second stroke--you need not believe me unless you
+please--I did not hear when they counted two. I returned to myself and
+heard them count seventeen. Four times they took me down from the board
+to let me breathe for half-an-hour, and to souse me with cold water. I
+stared at them with my eyes starting from my head, and said to myself,
+'I shall die here.'"
+
+"But you did not die," remarked Kobylin innocently.
+
+Luka looked at him with disdain, and every one burst out laughing.
+
+"What an idiot! Is he wrong in the upper storey?" said Luka, as if he
+regretted that he had condescended to speak to such an idiot.
+
+"He is a little mad," said Vassili on his side.
+
+Although Luka had killed six persons, no one was ever afraid of him in
+the prison. He wished, however, to be looked upon as a terrible person.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+ISAIAH FOMITCH--THE BATH--BAKLOUCHIN.
+
+
+But the Christmas holidays were approaching, and the convicts looked
+forward to them with solemnity. From their mere appearance it was easy
+to see that something extraordinary was about to arrive. Four days
+before the holidays they were to be taken to the bath; every one was
+pleased, and was making preparations. We were to go there after dinner.
+On this occasion there was no work in the afternoon, and of all the
+convicts the one who was most pleased, and showed the greatest activity,
+was a certain Isaiah Fomitch Bumstein, a Jew, of whom I spoke in my
+fifth chapter. He liked to remain stewing in the bath until he became
+unconscious. Whenever I think of the prisoner's bath, which is a thing
+not to be forgotten, the first thought that presents itself to my memory
+is of that very glorious and eternally to be remembered, Isaiah Fomitch
+Bumstein, my prison companion. Good Lord! what a strange man he was! I
+have already said a few words about his face. He was fifty years of age,
+his face wrinkled, with frightful scars on his cheeks and on his
+forehead, and the thin, weak body of a fowl. His face expressed
+perpetual confidence in himself, and, I may almost say, perfect
+happiness. I do not think he was at all sorry to be condemned to hard
+labour. He was a jeweller by trade, and as there was no other in the
+town, he had always plenty of work to do, and was more or less well
+paid. He wanted nothing, and lived, so to say, sumptuously, without
+spending all that he gained, for he saved money and lent it out to the
+other convicts at interest. He possessed a tea-urn, a mattress, a
+tea-cup, and a blanket. The Jews of the town did not refuse him their
+patronage. Every Saturday he went under escort to the synagogue (which
+was authorised by the law); and he lived like a fighting cock.
+Nevertheless, he looked forward to the expiration of his term of
+imprisonment in order to get married. He was the most comic mixture of
+simplicity, stupidity, cunning, timidity, and bashfulness; but the
+strangest thing was that the convicts never laughed, or seriously mocked
+him--they only teased him for amusement. Isaiah Fomitch was a subject of
+distraction and amusement for every one.
+
+"We have only one Isaiah Fomitch, we will take care of him," the
+convicts seemed to say; and as if he understood this, he was proud of
+his own importance. From the account given to me it appeared he had
+entered the convict prison in the most laughable manner (it took place
+before my arrival). Suddenly one evening a report was spread in the
+convict prison that a Jew had been brought there, who at that moment was
+being shaved in the guard-house, and that he was immediately afterwards
+to be taken to the barracks. As there was not a single Jew in the
+prison, the convicts looked forward to his entry with impatience, and
+surrounded him as soon as he passed the great gates. The officer on
+service took him to the civil prison, and pointed out the place where
+his plank bedstead was to be.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch held in his hand a bag containing the things given to
+him, and some other things of his own. He put down his bag, took his
+place at the plank bedstead, and sat down there with his legs crossed,
+without daring to raise his eyes. People were laughing all round him.
+The convicts ridiculed him by reason of his Jewish origin. Suddenly a
+young convict left the others, and came up to him, carrying in his hand
+an old pair of summer trousers, dirty, torn, and mended with old rags.
+He sat down by the side of Isaiah Fomitch, and struck him on the
+shoulder.
+
+"Well, my dear fellow," said he, "I have been waiting for the last six
+years; look up and tell me how much you will give for this article,"
+holding up his rags before him.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch was so dumbfounded that he did not dare to look at the
+mocking crowd, with mutilated and frightful countenances, now grouped
+around him, and did not speak a single word, so frightened was he. When
+he saw who was speaking to him he shuddered, and began to examine the
+rags carefully. Every one waited to hear his first words.
+
+"Well, cannot you give me a silver rouble for it? It is certainly worth
+that," said the would-be vendor smiling, and looking towards Isaiah
+Fomitch with a wink.
+
+"A silver rouble! no; but I will give you seven kopecks."
+
+These were the first words pronounced by Isaiah Fomitch in the convict
+prison. A loud laugh was heard from all sides.
+
+"Seven kopecks! Well, give them to me; you are lucky, you are indeed.
+Look! Take care of the pledge, you answer for it with your head."
+
+"With three kopecks for interest; that will make ten kopecks you will
+owe me," said the Jew, at the same time slipping his hand into his
+pocket to get out the sum agreed upon.
+
+"Three kopecks interest--for a year?"
+
+"No, not for a year, for a month."
+
+"You are a terrible screw, what is your name?"
+
+"Isaiah Fomitch."
+
+"Well, Isaiah Fomitch, you ought to get on. Good-bye."
+
+The Jew examined once more the rags on which he had lent seven kopecks,
+folded them up, and put them carefully away in his bag. The convicts
+continued to laugh at him.
+
+In reality every one laughed at him, but, although every prisoner owed
+him money, no one insulted him; and when he saw that every one was well
+disposed towards him, he gave himself haughty airs, but so comic that
+they were at once forgiven.
+
+Luka, who had known many Jews when he was at liberty, often teased him,
+less from malice than for amusement, as one plays with a dog or a
+parrot. Isaiah Fomitch knew this and did not take offence.
+
+"You will see, Jew, how I will flog you."
+
+"If you give me one blow I will return you ten," replied Isaiah Fomitch
+valiantly.
+
+"Scurvy Jew."
+
+"As scurvy as you like; I have in any case plenty of money."
+
+"Bravo! Isaiah Fomitch. We must take care of you. You are the only Jew
+we have; but they will send you to Siberia all the same."
+
+"I am already in Siberia."
+
+"They will send you farther on."
+
+"Is not the Lord God there?"
+
+"Of course, he is everywhere."
+
+"Well, then! With the Lord God, and money, one has all that is
+necessary."
+
+"What a fellow he is!" cries every one around him.
+
+The Jew sees that he is being laughed at, but does not lose courage. He
+gives himself airs. The flattery addressed to him causes him much
+pleasure, and with a high, squealing falsetto, which is heard throughout
+the barracks, he begins to sing, "la, la, la, la," to an idiotic and
+ridiculous tune; the only song he was heard to sing during his stay at
+the convict prison. When he made my acquaintance, he assured me solemnly
+that it was the song, and the very air, that was sung by 600,000 Jews,
+small and great, when they crossed the Red Sea, and that every Israelite
+was ordered to sing it after a victory gained over an enemy.
+
+The eve of each Saturday the convicts came from the other barracks to
+ours, expressly to see Isaiah Fomitch celebrating his Sabbath. He was so
+vain, so innocently conceited, that this general curiosity flattered him
+immensely. He covered the table in his little corner with a pedantic
+air of importance, opened a book, lighted two candles, muttered some
+mysterious words, and clothed himself in a kind of chasuble, striped,
+and with sleeves, which he preserved carefully at the bottom of his
+trunk. He fastened to his hands leather bracelets, and finally attached
+to his forehead, by means of a ribbon, a little box, which made it seem
+as if a horn were starting from his head. He then began to pray. He read
+in a drawling voice, cried out, spat, and threw himself about with wild
+and comic gestures. All this was prescribed by the ceremonies of his
+religion. There was nothing laughable or strange in it, except the airs
+which Isaiah Fomitch gave himself before us in performing his
+ceremonies. Then he suddenly covered his head with both hands, and began
+to read with many sobs. His tears increased, and in his grief he almost
+lay down upon the book his head with the ark upon it, howling as he did
+so; but suddenly in the midst of his despondent sobs he burst into a
+laugh, and recited with a nasal twang a hymn of triumph, as if he were
+overcome by an excess of happiness.
+
+"Impossible to understand it," the convicts would sometimes say to one
+another. One day I asked Isaiah Fomitch what these sobs signified, and
+why he passed so suddenly from despair to triumphant happiness. Isaiah
+Fomitch was very pleased when I asked him these questions. He explained
+to me directly that the sobs and tears were provoked by the loss of
+Jerusalem, and that the law ordered the pious Jew to groan and strike
+his breast; but at the moment of his most acute grief he was suddenly to
+remember that a prophecy had foretold the return of the Jews to
+Jerusalem, and he was then to manifest overflowing joy, to sing, to
+laugh, and to recite his prayers with an expression of happiness in his
+voice and on his countenance. This sudden passage from one phase of
+feeling to another delighted Isaiah Fomitch, and he explained to me this
+ingenious prescription of his faith with the greatest satisfaction.
+
+One evening, in the midst of his prayers, the Major entered, followed by
+the officer of the guard and an escort of soldiers. All the prisoners
+got immediately into line before their camp-bedsteads. Isaiah Fomitch
+alone continued to shriek and gesticulate. He knew that his worship was
+authorised, and that no one could interrupt him, so that in howling in
+the presence of the Major he ran no risk. It pleased him to throw
+himself about beneath the eyes of the chief.
+
+The Major approached within a few steps. Isaiah Fomitch turned his back
+to the table, and just in front of the officer began to sing his hymn of
+triumph, gesticulating and drawling out certain syllables. When he came
+to the part where he had to assume an expression of extreme happiness,
+he did so by blinking with his eyes, at the same time laughing and
+nodding his head in the direction of the Major. The latter was at first
+much astonished; then he burst into a laugh, called out, "Idiot!" and
+went away, while the Jew still continued to shriek. An hour later, when
+he had finished, I asked him what he would have done if the Major had
+been wicked enough and foolish enough to lose his temper.
+
+"What Major?"
+
+"What Major! Did you not see him? He was only two steps from you, and
+was looking at you all the time." But Isaiah Fomitch assured me as
+seriously as possible that he had not seen the Major, for while he was
+saying his prayers he was in such a state of ecstasy that he neither saw
+nor heard anything that was taking place around him.
+
+I can see Isaiah Fomitch wandering about on Saturday throughout the
+prison, endeavouring to do nothing, as the law prescribes to every Jew.
+What improbable anecdotes he told me! Every time he returned from the
+synagogue he always brought me some news of St. Petersburg, and the most
+absurd rumours imaginable from his fellow Jews of the town, who
+themselves had received them at first hand. But I have already spoken
+too much of Isaiah Fomitch.
+
+In the whole town there were only two public baths. The first, kept by a
+Jew, was divided into compartments, for which one paid fifty kopecks. It
+was frequented by the aristocracy of the town.
+
+The other bath, old, dirty, and close, was destined for the people. It
+was there that the convicts were taken. The air was cold and clear. The
+prisoners were delighted to get out of the fortress and have a walk
+through the town. During the walk their laughter and jokes never ceased.
+A platoon of soldiers, with muskets loaded, accompanied us. It was quite
+a sight for the town's-people. When we had reached our destination, the
+bath was so small that it did not permit us all to enter at once. We
+were divided into two bands, one of which waited in the cold room while
+the other one bathed in the hot one. Even then, so narrow was the room
+that it was difficult for us to understand how half of the convicts
+could stand together in it.
+
+Petroff kept close to me. He remained by my side without my having
+begged him to do so, and offered to rub me down. Baklouchin, a convict
+of the special section, offered me at the same time his services. I
+recollect this prisoner, who was called the "Sapper," as the gayest and
+most agreeable of all my companions. We had become intimate friends.
+Petroff helped me to undress, because I was generally a long time
+getting my things off, not being yet accustomed to the operation; and it
+was almost as cold in the dressing-room as outside the doors.
+
+It is very difficult for a convict who is still a novice to get his
+things off, for he must know how to undo the leather straps which fasten
+on the chains. These leather straps are buckled over the shirt, just
+beneath the ring which encloses the leg. One pair of straps costs sixty
+kopecks, and each convict is obliged to get himself a pair, for it would
+be impossible to walk without their assistance. The ring does not
+enclose the leg too tightly. One can pass the finger between the iron
+and the flesh; but the ring rubs against the calf, so that in a single
+day the convict who walks without leather straps, gets his skin broken.
+
+To take off the straps presents no difficulty. It is not the same with
+the clothes. To get the trousers off is in itself a prodigious
+operation, and the same may be said of the shirt whenever it has to be
+changed. The first who gave us lessons in this art was Koreneff, a
+former chief of brigands, condemned to be chained up for five years. The
+convicts are very skilful at the work, and do it readily.
+
+I gave a few kopecks to Petroff to buy soap and a bunch of the twigs
+with which one rubs oneself in the bath. Bits of soap were given to the
+convicts, but they were not larger than pieces of two kopecks. The soap
+was sold in the dressing-room, as well as mead, cakes of white flour,
+and boiling water; for each convict received but one pailful, according
+to the agreement made between the proprietor of the bath and the
+administration of the prison. The convicts who wished to make themselves
+thoroughly clean, could for two kopecks buy another pailful, which the
+proprietor handed to them through a window pierced in the wall for that
+purpose. As soon as I was undressed, Petroff took me by the arm and
+observed to me that I should find it difficult to walk with my chains.
+
+"Drag them up on to your calves," he said to me, holding me by the arms
+at the same time, as if I were an old man. I was ashamed at his care,
+and assured him that I could walk well enough by myself, but he did not
+believe me. He paid me the same attention that one gives to an awkward
+child. Petroff was not a servant in any sense of the word. If I had
+offended him, he would have known how to deal with me. I had promised
+him nothing for his assistance, nor had he asked me for anything. What
+inspired him with so much solicitude for me?
+
+Represent to yourself a room of twelve feet long by as many broad, in
+which a hundred men are all crowded together, or at least eighty, for we
+were in all two hundred divided into two sections. The steam blinded us;
+the sweat, the dirt, the want of space, were such that we did not know
+where to put a foot down. I was frightened and wished to go out. Petroff
+hastened to reassure me. With great trouble we succeeded in raising
+ourselves on to the benches, by passing over the heads of the convicts,
+whom we begged to bend down, in order to let us pass; but all the
+benches were already occupied. Petroff informed me that I must buy a
+place, and at once entered into negotiations with the convict who was
+near the window. For a kopeck this man consented to cede me his place.
+After receiving the money, which Petroff held tight in his hand, and
+which he had prudently provided himself with beforehand, the man crept
+just beneath me into a dark and dirty corner. There was there, at least,
+half an inch of filth; even the places above the benches were occupied,
+the convicts swarmed everywhere. As for the floor there was not a place
+as big as the palm of the hand which was not occupied by the convicts.
+They sent the water in spouts out of their pails. Those who were
+standing up washed themselves pail in hand, and the dirty water ran all
+down their body to fall on the shaved heads of those who were sitting
+down. On the upper bench, and the steps which led to it, were heaped
+together other convicts who washed themselves more thoroughly, but these
+were in small number. The populace does not care to wash with soap and
+water, it prefers stewing in a horrible manner, and then inundating
+itself with cold water. That is how the common people take their bath.
+On the floor could be seen fifty bundles of rods rising and falling at
+the same time, the holders were whipping themselves into a state of
+intoxication. The steam became thicker and thicker every minute, so that
+what one now felt was not a warm but a burning sensation, as from
+boiling pitch. The convicts shouted and howled to the accompaniment of
+the hundred chains shaking on the floor. Those who wished to pass from
+one place to another got their chains mixed up with those of their
+neighbours, and knocked against the heads of the men who were lower down
+than they. Then there were volleys of oaths as those who fell dragged
+down the ones whose chains had become entangled in theirs. They were all
+in a state of intoxication of wild exultation. Cries and shrieks were
+heard on all sides. There was much crowding and crushing at the window
+of the dressing-room through which the hot water was delivered, and
+much of it got spilt over the heads of those who were seated on the
+floor before it arrived at its destination. We seemed to be fully at
+liberty; and yet from time to time, behind the window of the
+dressing-room, or through the open door, could be seen the moustached
+face of a soldier, with his musket at his feet, watching that no serious
+disorder took place.
+
+The shaved heads of the convicts, and their red bodies, which the steam
+made the colour of blood, seemed more monstrous than ever. On their
+backs, made scarlet by the steam, stood out in striking relief the scars
+left by the whips and the rods, made long before, but so thoroughly that
+the flesh seemed to have been quite recently torn. Strange scars. A
+shudder passed through me at the mere sight of them. Again the volume of
+steam increased, and the bath-room was now covered with a thick, burning
+cloud, covering agitation and cries. From this cloud stood out torn
+backs, shaved heads; and, to complete the picture, Isaiah Fomitch
+howling with joy on the highest of the benches. He was saturating
+himself with steam. Any other man would have fainted away, but no
+temperature is too high for him; he engages the services of a rubber for
+a kopeck, but after a few moments the latter is unable to continue,
+throws away his bunch of twigs, and runs to inundate himself with cold
+water. Isaiah Fomitch does not lose courage, he runs to hire a second
+rubber, then a third; on these occasions he thinks nothing of expense,
+and changes his rubber four or five times. "He stews well, the gallant
+Isaiah Fomitch," cry the convicts from below. The Jew feels that he goes
+beyond all the others, he has beaten them; he triumphs with his hoarse
+falsetto voice, and sings out his favourite air which rises above the
+general hubbub. It seemed to me that if ever we met in hell we should be
+reminded of the place where we then were. I could not resist a wish to
+communicate this idea to Petroff. He looked all round him, but made no
+answer.
+
+I wished to buy a place for him on the bench by my side; but he sat
+down at my feet and declared that he felt quite at his ease. Baklouchin
+meanwhile bought us some hot water which he would bring to us as soon as
+we wanted it. Petroff offered to clean me from head to foot, and he
+begged me to go through the preliminary stewing process. I could not
+make up my mind to it. At last he rubbed me all over with soap. I wished
+to make him understand that I could wash myself, but it was no use
+contradicting him and I gave myself up to him.
+
+When he had done with me he took me back to the dressing-room, holding
+me up, and telling me at each step to take care, as if I had been made
+of porcelain. He helped me to put on my clothes, and when he had
+finished his kindly work he rushed back to the bath to have a thorough
+stewing.
+
+When we got back to the barracks I offered him a glass of tea, which he
+did not refuse. He drank it and thanked me. I wished to go to the
+expense of a glass of vodka in his honour, and I succeeded in getting it
+on the spot. Petroff was exceedingly pleased. He swallowed his vodka
+with a murmur of satisfaction, declared that I had restored him to life,
+and then suddenly rushed to the kitchen, as if the people who were
+talking there could not decide anything important without him.
+
+Now another man came up for a talk. This was Baklouchin, of whom I have
+already spoken, and whom I had also invited to take tea.
+
+I never knew a man of a more agreeable disposition than Baklouchin. It
+must be admitted that he never forgave a wrong, and that he often got
+into quarrels. He could not, above all, endure people interfering with
+his affairs. He knew, in a word, how to take care of himself; but his
+quarrels never lasted long, and I believe that all the convicts liked
+him. Wherever he went he was well received. Even in the town he was
+looked upon as the most amusing man in the world. He was a man of lofty
+stature, thirty years old, with a frank, determined countenance, and
+rather good-looking, with his tuft of hair on his chin. He possessed the
+art of changing his face in such a comic manner by imitating the first
+person he happened to see, that the people around him were constantly in
+a roar. He was a professed joker, but he never allowed himself to be
+slighted by those who did not enjoy his fun. Accordingly, no one spoke
+disparagingly of him. He was full of life and fire. He made my
+acquaintance at the very beginning of my imprisonment, and related to me
+his military career, when he was a sapper in the Engineers, where he had
+been placed as a favour by people of influence. He put a number of
+questions to me about St. Petersburg; he even read books when he came to
+take tea with me. He amused the whole company by relating how roughly
+Lieutenant K---- had that morning handled the Major. He told me,
+moreover, with a satisfied air, as he took his seat by my side, that we
+should probably have a theatrical representation in the prison. The
+convicts proposed to get up a play during the Christmas holidays. The
+necessary actors were found, and, little by little, the scenery was
+prepared. Some persons in the town had promised to lend women's clothes
+for the performance. Some hopes were even entertained of obtaining,
+through the medium of an officer's servant, a uniform with epaulettes,
+provided only the Major did not take it into his head to forbid the
+performance, as he had done the previous year. He was at that time in
+ill-humour through having lost at cards, and he had been annoyed at
+something that had taken place in the prison. Accordingly, in a fit of
+ill-humour, he had forbidden the performance. It was possible, however,
+that this year he would not prevent it. Baklouchin was in a state of
+exultation. It could be seen that he would be one of the principal
+supporters of the meditated theatre. I made up my mind to be present at
+the performance. The ingenuous joy which Baklouchin manifested in
+speaking of the undertaking was quite touching. From whispering, we
+gradually got to talk of the matter quite openly. He told me, among
+other things, that he had not served at St. Petersburg alone. He had
+been sent to R---- with the rank of non-commissioned officer in a
+garrison battalion.
+
+"From there they sent me on here," added Baklouchin.
+
+"And why?" I asked him.
+
+"Why? You would never guess, Alexander Petrovitch. Because I was in
+love."
+
+"Come now. A man is not exiled for that," I said, with a laugh.
+
+"I should have added," continued Baklouchin, "that it made me kill a
+German with a pistol-shot. Was it worth while to send me to hard labour
+for killing a German? Only think."
+
+"How did it happen? Tell me the story. It must be a strange one."
+
+"An amusing story indeed, Alexander Petrovitch."
+
+"So much the better. Tell me."
+
+"You wish me to do so? Well, then, listen."
+
+And he told me the story of his murder. It was not "amusing," but it was
+indeed strange.
+
+"This is how it happened," began Baklouchin; "I had been sent to Riga, a
+fine, handsome city, which has only one fault, there are too many
+Germans there. I was still a young man, and I had a good character with
+my officers. I wore my cap cocked on the side of my head, and passed my
+time in the most agreeable manner. I made love to the German girls. One
+of them, named Luisa, pleased me very much. She and her aunt were
+getters-up of fine linen. The old woman was a true caricature; but she
+had money. First of all I merely passed under the young girl's windows;
+but I soon made her acquaintance. Luisa spoke Russian well enough,
+though with a slight accent. She was charming. I never saw any one like
+her. I was most pressing in my advances; but she only replied that she
+would preserve her innocence, that as a wife she might prove worthy of
+me. She was an affectionate, smiling girl, and wonderfully neat. In
+fact, I assure you, I never saw any one like her. She herself had
+suggested that I should marry her, and how was I not to marry her?
+Suddenly Luisa did not come to her appointment. This happened once, then
+twice, then a third time. I sent her a letter, but she did not reply.
+'What is to be done?' I said to myself. If she had been deceiving me she
+could easily have taken me in. She could have answered my letter and
+come all the same to the appointment; but she was incapable of
+falsehood. She had simply broken off with me. 'This is a trick of the
+aunt,' I said to myself. I was afraid to go to her house.
+
+"Even though she was aware of our engagement, we acted as if she were
+ignorant of it. I wrote a fine letter in which I said to Luisa, 'If you
+don't come, I will come to your aunt's for you.' She was afraid and
+came. Then she began to weep, and told me that a German named Schultz, a
+distant relation of theirs, a clockmaker by trade, and of a certain age,
+but rich, had shown a wish to marry her--in order to make her happy, as
+he said, and that he himself might not remain without a wife in his old
+age. He had loved her a long time, so she told me, and had been
+nourishing this idea for years, but he had kept it a secret, and had
+never ventured to speak out. 'You see, Sasha,' she said to me, 'that it
+is a question of my happiness; for he is rich, and would you prevent my
+happiness?' I looked her in the face, she wept, embraced me, clasped me
+in her arms.
+
+"'Well, she is quite right,' I said to myself, 'what good is there in
+marrying a soldier--even a non-commissioned officer? Come, farewell,
+Luisa. God protect you. I have no right to prevent your happiness.'
+
+"'And what sort of a man is he? Is he good-looking?'
+
+"'No, he is old, and he has such a long nose.'
+
+"She here burst into a fit of laughter. I left her. 'It was my destiny,'
+I said to myself. The next day I passed by Schultz' shop (she had told
+me where he lived). I looked through the window and saw a German, who
+was arranging a watch, forty-five years of age, an aquiline nose,
+swollen eyes, a dress-coat with a very high collar. I spat with contempt
+as I looked at him. At that moment I was ready to break the shop
+windows, but 'What is the use of it?' I said to myself; 'there is
+nothing more to be done: it is over, all over.' I got back to the
+barracks as the night was falling, and stretched myself out on my bed,
+and--will you believe it, Alexander Petrovitch?--began to sob--yes, to
+sob. One day passed, then a second, then a third. I saw Luisa no more. I
+had learned, however, from an old woman (she was also a washerwoman, and
+the girl I loved used sometimes to visit her), that this German knew of
+our relations, and that for that reason he had made up his mind to marry
+her as soon as possible, otherwise he would have waited two years
+longer. He had made Luisa swear that she would see me no more. It
+appeared that on account of me he had refused to loosen his
+purse-strings, and kept Luisa and her aunt very close. Perhaps he would
+yet change his idea, for he was not very resolute. The old woman told me
+that he had invited them to take coffee with him the next day, a Sunday,
+and that another relation, a former shopkeeper, now very poor, and an
+assistant in some liquor store, would also come. When I found that the
+business was to be settled on Sunday, I was so furious that I could not
+recover my cold blood, and the following day I did nothing but reflect.
+I believe I could have devoured that German. On Sunday morning I had not
+come to any decision. As soon as the service was over I ran out, got
+into my great-coat, and went to the house of this German. I thought I
+should find them all there. Why I went to the German, and what I meant
+to say to him, I did not know myself.
+
+"I slipped a pistol into my pocket to be ready for everything; a little
+pistol which was not worth a curse, with an old-fashioned lock--a thing
+I had used when I was a boy, and which was really fit for nothing. I
+loaded it, however, because I thought they would try to kick me out, and
+that the German would insult me, in which case I would pull out my
+pistol to frighten them all. I arrived. There was no one on the
+staircase; they were all in the work-room. No servant. The one girl who
+waited upon them was absent. I crossed the shop and saw that the door
+was closed--an old door fastened from the inside. My heart beat; I
+stopped and listened. They were speaking German. I broke open the door
+with a kick. I looked round. The table was laid; there was a large
+coffee-pot on it, with a spirit lamp underneath, and a plate of
+biscuits. On a tray there was a small decanter of brandy, herrings,
+sausages, and a bottle of some wine. Luisa and her aunt, both in their
+Sunday best, were seated on a sofa. Opposite them, the German was
+exhibiting himself on a chair, got up like a bridegroom, and in his coat
+with the high collar, and with his hair carefully combed. On the other
+side, there was another German, old, fat, and gray. He was taking no
+part in the conversation. When I entered, Luisa turned very pale. The
+aunt sprang up with a bound and sat down again. The German became angry.
+What a rage he was in! He got up, and walking towards me, said:
+
+"'What do you want?'
+
+"I should have lost my self-possession if anger had not supported me.
+
+"'What do I want? Is this the way to receive a guest? Why do you not
+offer him something to drink? I have come to pay you a visit.'
+
+"The German reflected a moment, and then said, 'Sit down.'
+
+"I sat down.
+
+"'Here is some vodka. Help yourself, I beg.'
+
+"'And let it be good,' I cried, getting more and more into a rage.
+
+"'It is good.'
+
+"I was enraged to see him looking at me from top to toe. The most
+frightful part of it was, that Luisa was looking on. I took a drink and
+said to him:
+
+"'Look here, German, what business have you to speak rudely to me? Let
+us be better acquainted. I have come to see you as friends.'
+
+"'I cannot be your friend,' he replied. 'You are a private soldier.'
+
+"Then I lost all self-command.
+
+"'Oh, you German! You sausage-seller! You know how much you are in my
+power. Look here; do you wish me to break your head with this pistol?'
+
+"I drew out my pistol, got up, and struck him on the forehead. The
+women were more dead than alive; they were afraid to breathe. The eldest
+of the two men, quite white, was trembling like a leaf.
+
+"The German seemed much astonished. But he soon recovered himself.
+
+"'I am not afraid of you,' he said, 'and I beg of you, as a well-bred
+man, to put an end to this pleasantry. I am not afraid of you!'
+
+"'You are afraid! You dare not move while this pistol is presented at
+you.'
+
+"'You dare not do such a thing!' he cried.
+
+"'And why should I not dare?'
+
+"'Because you would be severely punished.'
+
+"May the devil take that idiot of a German! If he had not urged me on,
+he would have been alive now.
+
+"'So you think I dare not?'
+
+"'No.'
+
+"'I dare not, you think?'
+
+"'You would not dare!'
+
+"'Wouldn't I, sausage-maker?' I fired the pistol, and down he sank on
+his chair. The others uttered shrieks. I put back my pistol in my
+pocket, and when I returned to the fortress, threw it among some weeds
+near the principal entrance.
+
+"Inside the barracks I laid on my bed, and said to myself, 'I shall be
+taken away soon.' One hour passed, then another, but I was not arrested.
+
+"Towards evening I felt so sad, I went out at all hazards to see Luisa;
+I passed before the house of the clockmaker's. There were a number of
+people there, including the police. I ran on to the old woman's and
+said:
+
+"'Call Luisa!'
+
+"I had only a moment to wait. She came immediately, and threw herself on
+my neck in tears.
+
+"'It is my fault,' she said. 'I should not have listened to my aunt.'
+
+"She then told me that her aunt, immediately after the scene, had gone
+back home. She was in such a fright that she fell and did not speak a
+word; she had uttered nothing. On the contrary, she ordered her niece
+to be as silent as herself.
+
+"'No one has seen her since,' said Luisa.
+
+"The clockmaker had previously sent his servant away, for he was afraid
+of her. She was jealous, and would have scratched his eyes out had she
+known that he wished to get married.
+
+"There were no workmen in the house, he had sent them all away; he had
+himself prepared the coffee and collation. As for the relation, who had
+scarcely spoken a word all his life, he took his hat, and, without
+opening his mouth, went away.
+
+"'He is quite sure to be silent,' added Luisa.
+
+"So, indeed, he was. For two weeks no one arrested me nor suspected me
+the least in the world.
+
+"You need not believe me unless you choose, Alexander Petrovitch.
+
+"These two weeks were the happiest in my life. I saw Luisa every day.
+And how much she had become attached to me!
+
+"She said to me through her tears: 'If you are exiled, I will go with
+you. I will leave everything to follow you.'
+
+"I thought of making away with myself, so much had she moved me; but
+after two weeks I was arrested. The old man and the aunt had agreed to
+denounce me."
+
+"But," I interrupted, "Baklouchin, for that they would only have given
+you from ten to twelve years' hard labour, and in the civil section; yet
+you are in the special section. How does that happen?"
+
+"That is another affair," said Baklouchin. "When I was taken before the
+Council of War, the captain appointed to conduct the case began by
+insulting me, and calling me names before the Tribunal. I could not
+stand it, and shouted out to him: 'Why do you insult me? Don't you see,
+you scoundrel! that you are only looking at yourself in the glass?'
+
+"This brought a new charge against me. I was tried a second time, and
+for the two things was condemned to four thousand strokes, and to the
+special section. When I was taken out to receive my punishment in the
+_Green Street_, the captain was at the same time sent away. He had been
+degraded from his rank, and was despatched to the Caucasus as a private
+soldier. Good-bye, Alexander Petrovitch. Don't fail to come to our
+performance."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS
+
+
+The holidays were approaching. On the eve of the great day the convicts
+scarcely ever went to work. Those who had been assigned to the sewing
+workshops, and a few others, went to work as usual; but they went back
+almost immediately to the convict prison, separately, or in parties.
+After dinner no one worked. From the early morning the greater part of
+the convicts were occupied with their own affairs, and not with those of
+the administration. Some were making arrangements for bringing in
+spirits, while others were seeking permission to see their friends, or
+to collect small accounts due to them for the work they had already
+executed. Baklouchin, and the convicts who were to take part in the
+performance, were endeavouring to persuade some of their acquaintances,
+nearly all officers' servants, to procure for them the necessary
+costumes. Some of them came and went with a business-like air, solely
+because others were really occupied. They had no money to receive, and
+yet seemed to expect a payment. Every one, in short, seemed to be
+looking for a change of some kind. Towards evening the old soldiers,
+who executed the convicts' commissions, brought them all kinds of
+victuals--meat, sucking-pigs, and geese. Many prisoners, even the most
+simple and most economical, after saving up their kopecks throughout the
+year, thought they ought to spend some of them that day, so as to
+celebrate Christmas Eve in a worthy manner. The day afterwards was for
+the convicts a still greater festival, one to which they had a right, as
+it was recognised by law. The prisoners could not be sent to work that
+day. There were not three days like it in all the year.
+
+And, moreover, what recollections must have been agitating the souls of
+those reprobates at the approach of such a solemn day! The common people
+from their childhood kept the great festival in their memory. They must
+have remembered with anguish and torments these days which, work being
+laid aside, are passed in the bosom of the family. The respect of the
+convicts for that day had something imposing about it. The drunkards
+were not at all numerous; nearly every one was serious, and, so to say,
+preoccupied, though they had for the most part nothing to do. Even those
+who feasted most preserved a serious air. Laughter seemed to be
+forbidden. A sort of intolerant susceptibility reigned throughout the
+prison; and if any one interfered with the general repose, even
+involuntarily, he was soon put in his proper place, with cries and
+oaths. He was condemned as though he had been wanting in respect to the
+festival itself.
+
+This disposition of the convicts was remarkable, and even touching.
+Besides the innate veneration they have for this great day, they foresee
+that in observing the festival they are in communion with the rest of
+the world; that they are not altogether reprobates lost and cast off by
+society. The usual rejoicings took place in the convict prison as well
+as outside. They felt all that. I saw it, and understood it myself.
+
+Akim Akimitch had made great preparations for the festival. He had no
+family recollections, being an orphan, born in a strange house, and put
+into the army at the age of fifteen. He could never have experienced any
+great joys, having always lived regularly and uniformly in the fear of
+infringing the rules imposed upon him, nor was he very religious; for
+his acquired formality had stifled in him all human feeling, all
+passions and likings, good or bad. He accordingly prepared to keep
+Christmas without exciting himself about it. He was saddened by no
+painful, useless recollection. He did everything with the punctuality
+imposed upon him in the execution of his duties, and in order once for
+all to get through the ceremony in a becoming manner. Moreover, he did
+not care to reflect upon the importance of the day, had never troubled
+his brain about it, even while he was executing his prescribed duties
+with religious minuteness. If he had been ordered the day following to
+do contrary to what he had done the evening before he would have done it
+with equal submission. Once in life, once, and once only, he had wished
+to act by his own impulse--and he had been sent to hard labour for it.
+
+This lesson had not been lost upon him, although it was written that he
+was never to understand his fault. He had yet become impressed with this
+salutary moral principle: never to reason in any matter because his mind
+was not equal to the task of judging. Blindly devoted to ceremonies, he
+looked with respect at the sucking-pig which he had stuffed with
+millet-seed, and which he had roasted himself (for he had some culinary
+skill), just as if it had not been an ordinary sucking-pig which could
+have been bought and roasted at any time, but a particular kind of
+animal born specially for Christmas Day. Perhaps he had been accustomed
+from his tender infancy to see that day a sucking-pig on the table, and
+he may have concluded that a sucking-pig was indispensable for the
+proper celebration of the festival. I am certain that if by ill-luck he
+had not eaten this particular kind of meat on that day, he would have
+been troubled with remorse all his life for not having done his duty.
+Until Christmas morning he wore his old vest and his old trousers, which
+had long been threadbare. I then learned that he kept carefully in his
+box his new clothes which had been given to him four months before, and
+that he had not put them on once, in order that he might wear them for
+the first time on Christmas Day. He did so. The evening before he took
+his new clothes out of his trunk, unfolded, examined them, cleaned them,
+blew on them to remove the dust, and when he was convinced that they
+were perfect, probably tried them on. The dress became him perfectly;
+all the different garments suited one another. The waistcoat buttoned up
+to the neck, the collar, straight and stiff like cardboard, kept his
+chin in its proper place. There was a military cut about the dress; and
+Akim Akimitch, as he wore it, smiled with satisfaction, turning himself
+round and round, not without swagger, before a little mirror adorned
+with a gilt border.
+
+One of the waistcoat-buttons alone seemed out of place; Akim Akimitch
+remarked it, and at once set it right. He tried on the vest again and
+found it irreproachable. Then he folded up his things as before, and
+with a satisfied mind locked them up in his box until the next day. His
+skull was sufficiently shaved; but, after careful examination, Akim
+Akimitch came to the conclusion that it was not in good condition, his
+hair had imperceptibly sprung up. He accordingly went immediately to the
+"Major" to be properly shaved according to the rules. In reality no one
+would have dreamed of looking at him next day, but he was acting
+conscientiously in order to fulfil all his duties. This care lest the
+smallest button, the least thread of an epaulette, the slightest string
+of a tassel should go wrong, was engraved in his mind as an imperious
+duty, and in his heart as the image of the most perfect order that could
+possibly be attained. As one of the "old hands" in the barracks, he saw
+that hay was brought and strewed about on the floor; the same thing was
+done in the other barracks. I do not know why, but hay was always
+strewed on the ground at Christmas time.
+
+As soon as Akim Akimitch had finished his work he said his prayers,
+stretched himself on his bed, and went to sleep, with the sleep of a
+child, in order to wake up as early as possible the next day. The other
+convicts did the same. It must be added that all of them went to bed,
+but sooner than usual. They gave up their ordinary evening work that
+day. As for playing cards, no one would have dared even to speak of such
+a thing; every one was anxiously expecting the next morning.
+
+At last this morning arrived. At an early hour, even before it was
+light, the drum was sounded, and the under officer, whose duty it was to
+count the convicts, wished them a happy Christmas. The prisoners
+answered him in an affable and amiable tone by expressing a like wish.
+Akim Akimitch, and many others, who had their geese and their
+sucking-pigs, went to the kitchen, after saying their prayers, in a
+hurried manner to see where their victuals were and how they were being
+cooked.
+
+Through the little windows of our barracks, half hidden by the snow and
+the ice, could be seen, flaring in the darkness, the bright fire of the
+two kitchens where six stoves had been lighted. In the court-yard, where
+it was still dark, the convicts, each with a half pelisse round his
+shoulders, or perhaps fully dressed, were hurrying towards the kitchen.
+Some of them, meanwhile--a very small number--had already visited the
+drink-sellers. They were the impatient ones, but they behaved
+becomingly, possibly much better than on ordinary days; neither quarrels
+nor insults were heard, every one understood that it was a great day, a
+great festival. The convicts went even to visit the other barracks in
+order to wish the inmates a happy Christmas; that day a sort of
+friendship seemed to exist between them all. I will remark in passing
+that the convicts have scarcely ever any intimate friendships. It was
+very rare to see a man on confidential terms with any other man, as, in
+the outer world. We were generally harsh and abrupt in our mutual
+relations. With some rare exceptions this was the general tone adopted
+and maintained.
+
+I went out of the barracks like the others. It was beginning to get
+late. The stars were paling, a light, icy mist was rising from the
+earth, and spirals of smoke were ascending in curls from the chimneys.
+Several convicts whom I met wished me, with affability, a happy
+Christmas. I thanked them and returned their wishes. Some of them had
+never spoken to me before.
+
+Near the kitchen, a convict from the military barracks, with his
+sheepskin on his shoulder, came up to me. Recognising me, he called out
+from the middle of the court-yard, "Alexander Petrovitch." He ran
+towards me. I waited for him. He was a young fellow, with a round face
+and soft eyes, and not at all communicative as a rule. He had not spoken
+to me since my arrival, and seemed never to have noticed me. I did not
+know on my side what his name was. When he came up, he remained planted
+before me, smiling with a vacuous smile, but with a happy expression of
+countenance.
+
+"What do you want?" I asked, not without astonishment.
+
+He remained standing before me, still smiling and staring, but without
+replying to my question.
+
+"Why, it is Christmas Day," he muttered.
+
+He understood that he had nothing more to say, and now hastened into the
+kitchen.
+
+I must add that, after this we scarcely ever met, and that we never
+spoke to one another again.
+
+Round the flaming stoves of the kitchen the convicts were rubbing and
+pushing against one another. Every one was watching his own property.
+The cooks were preparing the dinner, which was to take place a little
+earlier than usual. No one began to eat before the time, though a good
+many wished to do so; but it was necessary to be well-behaved before the
+others. We were waiting for the priest, and the fast preceding Christmas
+would not be at an end until his arrival.
+
+It was not yet perfectly light, when the corporal was already heard
+shouting out from behind the principal gate of the prison:
+
+"The kitchen; the kitchen."
+
+These calls were repeated without interruption for about two hours. The
+cooks were wanted in order to receive gifts brought from all parts of
+the town in enormous numbers; loaves of white bread, scones, rusks,
+pancakes, and pastry of various kinds. I do not think there was a
+shop-keeper in the whole town who did not send something to the
+"unfortunates." Amongst these gifts there were some magnificent ones,
+including a good many cakes of the finest flour. There were also some
+very poor ones, such as rolls worth two kopecks a piece, and a couple of
+brown rolls, covered lightly over with sour cream. These were the
+offerings of the poor to the poor, on which a last kopeck had often been
+spent.
+
+All these gifts were accepted with equal gratitude, without reference to
+the value or the giver. The convicts, on receiving the offerings, took
+off their caps and thanked the donors with low bows, wishing them a
+happy Christmas, and then carried the things to the kitchen.
+
+When a number of loaves and cakes had been collected, the elders of each
+barrack were called, and it was for them to divide the whole in equal
+portions among all the sections. The division excited neither protest
+nor annoyance. It was made honestly, equitably. Akim Akimitch, helped by
+another prisoner, divided between the convicts of our barracks the share
+assigned to us, and gave to each of us what came to him. Every one was
+satisfied. No objection was made by any one. There was not the least
+manifestation of envy, and it occurred to no one to deceive another.
+
+When Akim Akimitch had finished at the kitchen, he proceeded religiously
+to dress himself, and did so with a solemn air. He buttoned up his
+waistcoat button by button, in the most punctilious manner. Then, when
+he had got his new clothes on, he went to pray, which occupied him a
+considerable time. Numbers of convicts fulfilled their religious duties,
+but these were for the most part old men. The young men scarcely ever
+prayed. The most they did was to make the sign of the cross when they
+rose from table, and that happened only on festival days.
+
+Akim Akimitch came up to me as soon as he had finished his prayer, to
+express to me the usual good wishes. I invited him to have some tea, and
+he returned my politeness by offering me some of his sucking-pig. After
+some time Petroff came up to address to me the usual compliments. I
+think he had been already drinking, and although he seemed to have much
+to say, he scarcely spoke. He stood up before me for some seconds, and
+then went back to the kitchen. The priest was now expected in the
+military section of the barracks. This section was not constructed like
+the others. The camp-bedsteads were arranged all along the wall, and not
+in the middle of the room as in all the others, so that it was the only
+one in which the middle was not obstructed. It had been probably
+arranged in this manner so that in case of necessity it might be easier
+to assemble the convicts. A small table had been prepared in the middle
+of the room, and a holy image placed upon it, before which burned a
+little lamp.
+
+At last the priest arrived, with the cross and holy water. He prayed and
+chanted before the image, and then turned towards the convicts, who one
+after the other came and kissed the cross. The priest then walked
+through all the barracks, sprinkling them with holy water. When he got
+to the kitchen he praised the bread of the convict prison, which had
+quite a reputation in town. The convicts at once expressed a desire to
+send him two loaves of new bread, still hot, which an old soldier was
+ordered to take to his house forthwith. The convicts walked back after
+the cross with the same respect as they had received it. Almost
+immediately afterwards, the Major and the Commandant arrived. The
+Commandant was liked, and even respected. He made the tour of the
+barracks in company with the Major, wished the convicts a happy
+Christmas, went into the kitchen, and tasted the cabbage soup. It was
+excellent that day. Each convict was entitled to nearly a pound of meat,
+besides which there was millet-seed in it, and certainly the butter had
+not been spared. The Major saw the Commandant to the door, and then
+ordered the convicts to begin dinner. Each endeavoured not to be under
+the Major's eyes. They did not like his spiteful, inquisitorial look
+from behind his spectacles as he wandered from right to left, seeking
+apparently some disorder to repress, some crime to punish.
+
+We dined. Akim Akimitch's sucking-pig was admirably roasted. I could
+never understand how, five minutes after the Major left, there was a
+mass of drunken prisoners, whereas as long as he remained every one was
+perfectly calm. Red, radiant faces were now numerous, and the balalaiki
+[Russian banjoes] soon appeared. Then came the little Pole, playing his
+violin, a convivial prisoner having engaged him for the whole day to
+play lively dance-tunes. The conversation became more animated and more
+noisy, but the dinner ended without great disorders. Every one had had
+enough. Some of the old men, serious-minded convicts, went immediately
+to bed. So did Akim Akimitch, who probably thought it was a duty to go
+to sleep after dinner on festival days.
+
+The "old believer" from Starodoub, after having slumbered a little,
+climbed up on to the top of the stove, opened his book, and prayed the
+entire day until late in the evening without interruption. The spectacle
+of so shameless an orgie was painful to him, he said. All the
+Circassians left the table. They looked with curiosity, but with a touch
+of disgust, at this drunken society. I met Nourra.
+
+"Aman, aman," he said, with a burst of honest indignation, and shaking
+his head. "What an offence to Allah!" Isaiah Fomitch lighted, with an
+arrogant and obstinate air, a candle in his favourite corner, and went
+to work in order to show that in his eyes this was no holiday. Here and
+there card parties were arranged. The convicts did not fear the old
+soldiers, but men were placed on the look-out in case the under officer
+should suddenly come in. He made a point, however, of seeing nothing.
+The officer of the guard made altogether three rounds. The prisoners, if
+they were drunk, hid themselves at once. The cards disappeared in the
+twinkling of an eye. I fancy that he had made up his mind not to notice
+any contraventions of an unimportant kind. Drunkenness was not an
+offence that day. Little by little every one became more or less gay.
+Then there were some quarrels. The greater number of the prisoners,
+however, remained calm, amusing themselves with the spectacle of those
+who were intoxicated. Some of these drank without limit.
+
+Gazin was triumphant. He walked about with a self-satisfied air, by the
+side of his camp bedstead, beneath which he had concealed his spirits,
+previously buried beneath the snow behind the barracks, in a secret
+place. He smiled knowingly when he saw customers arrive in crowds. He
+was perfectly calm. He had drunk nothing at all; for it was his
+intention to regale himself the last day of the holidays, after he had
+emptied the pockets of the other prisoners. Throughout the barracks the
+drunkenness was becoming infernal. Singing was heard, and the songs were
+giving way to tears. Some of the prisoners walked about in bands,
+sheepskin on shoulder, striking with a haughty air the strings of their
+balalaiki. A chorus of from eight to ten men had been formed in the
+special section. The singing here was excellent, with its accompaniments
+of balalaiki and guitars.
+
+Songs of a truly popular kind were rare. I remember one which was
+admirably sung:
+
+
+     Yesterday, I, a young girl,
+     Went to the feast.
+
+
+A variation was introduced previously unknown to me. At the end of the
+song these lines were added:
+
+
+     At my house, the house of a young girl,
+     Everything is in order.
+     I have washed the spoons,
+     I have turned out the cabbage-soup,
+     I have wiped down the panels of the door,
+     I have cooked the patties.
+
+
+What they chiefly sang were prison songs; one of them, called "As it
+happened," was very humorous. It related how a man amused himself, and
+lived like a prince until he was sent to the convict prison, where he
+fared very differently. Another song, only too popular, set forth how
+the hero of it had formerly possessed capital, but had now nothing but
+captivity. Here is a true convict's song:
+
+
+     The day breaks in the heavens,
+     We are waked up by the drum.
+     The old man opens the door,
+     The warder comes and calls us.
+     No one sees us behind the prison walls,
+     Nor how we live in this place.
+     But God, the Heavenly Creator, is with us
+     He will not let us perish.
+
+
+Another still more melancholy, but with a superb melody, was sung to
+tame and incorrect words. I can remember a few of the verses:
+
+
+     My eyes no more will see the land,
+     Where I was born;
+     To suffer torments undeserved,
+     Will be my punishment.
+     The owl will shriek upon the roof,
+     And raise the echoes of the forest.
+     My heart is broken down with grief.
+     No, never more shall I return.
+
+
+This song is often sung; not as a chorus, but always as a solo. When the
+work is over, a prisoner goes out of the barracks, sits down on the
+threshold, meditates with his chin resting on his hand, and then drawls
+out his song in a high falsetto. One listens to him, and the effect is
+heart-breaking. Some of our convicts had beautiful voices.
+
+Meanwhile it was getting dusk. Wearisomeness and general depression were
+making themselves felt through the drunkenness and the debauchery. The
+prisoner, who an hour beforehand was holding his sides with laughter,
+now sobbed in a corner, exceedingly drunk; others were fighting, or
+wandering in a tottering manner through the barracks, pale, very pale,
+and seeking whom to quarrel with. These poor people had wished to pass
+the great festival in the most joyous manner, but, gracious heaven, how
+painful the day was for all of them! They had passed it in the vague
+hope of a happiness that was not to be realised. Petroff came up to me
+twice. As he had drunk very little he was calm; but until the last
+moment he expected something which he made sure would happen, something
+extraordinary, and highly diverting. Although he said nothing about it,
+this could be seen from his looks. He ran from barrack to barrack
+without fatigue. Nothing, however, happened; nothing except general
+intoxication, idiotic insults from drunkards, and general giddiness of
+heated heads.
+
+Sirotkin wandered about also, dressed in a brand-new red shirt, going
+from barrack to barrack, and good-looking as usual. He also was on the
+watch for something to happen. The spectacle became insupportably
+repulsive, indeed nauseating. There were some laughable things, but I
+was too sad to be amused by them. I felt a deep pity for all these men,
+and felt strangled, stifled, in the midst of them. Here two convicts
+were disputing as to which should treat the other. The dispute lasts a
+long time; they have almost come to blows. One of them has, for a long
+time past, had a grudge against the other. He complains, stammering as
+he does so, and tries to prove to his companion that he acted unjustly
+when, a year before, he sold a pelisse and concealed the money. There
+was more than this too. The complainant is a tall young fellow, with
+good muscular development, quiet, by no means stupid, but who, when he
+is drunk, wishes to make friends with every one, and to pour out his
+grief into their bosom. He insults his adversary with the intention of
+becoming reconciled to him later on. The other man, a big, massive
+person, with a round face, as cunning as a fox, had perhaps drunk more
+than his companion, but appeared only slightly intoxicated. This convict
+has character, and passes for a rich man; he has probably no interest in
+irritating his companion, and he accordingly leads him to one of the
+drink-sellers. The expansive friend declares that his companion owes him
+money, and that he is bound to stand him a drink "if he has any
+pretensions to be considered an honest man."
+
+The drink-seller, not without some respect for his customer, and with a
+touch of contempt for the expansive friend (for he was drinking at the
+expense of another man), took a glass and filled it with vodka.
+
+"No, Stepka, you must pay, because you owe me money."
+
+"I won't tire my tongue talking to you any longer," replied Stepka.
+
+"No, Stepka, you lie," continues his friend, taking up a glass offered
+to him by the drink-seller. "You owe me money, and you must be without
+conscience. You have not a thing about you that you have not borrowed,
+and I don't believe your very eyes are your own. In a word, Stepka, you
+are a blackguard."
+
+"What are you whining about? Look, you are spilling your vodka."
+
+"If you are being treated, why don't you drink?" cries the drink-seller,
+to the expansive friend. "I cannot wait here until to-morrow."
+
+"I will drink, don't be frightened. What are you crying out about? My
+best wishes for the day. My best wishes for the day, Stepan Doroveitch,"
+replies the latter politely, as he bows, glass in hand, towards Stepka,
+whom the moment before he had called a blackguard. "Good health to you,
+and may you live a hundred years in addition to what you have lived
+already." He drinks, gives a grunt of satisfaction, and wipes his mouth.
+"What quantities of brandy I have drunk," he says, gravely speaking to
+every one, without addressing any one in particular, "but I have
+finished now. Thank me, Stepka Doroveitch."
+
+"There is nothing to thank you for."
+
+"Ah! you won't thank me. Then I will tell every one how you have treated
+me, and, moreover, that you are a blackguard."
+
+"Then I shall have something to tell you, drunkard that you are,"
+interrupts Stepka, who at last loses patience. "Listen and pay
+attention. Let us divide the world in two. You shall take one half, I
+the other. Then I shall have peace."
+
+"Then you will not give me back my money?"
+
+"What money do you want, drunkard?"
+
+"My money. It is the sweat of my brow; the labour of my hands. You will
+be sorry for it in the other world. You will be roasted for those five
+kopecks."
+
+"Go to the devil."
+
+"What are you driving me for? Am I a horse?"
+
+"Be off, be off."
+
+"Blackguard!"
+
+"Convict!"
+
+And the insults exchanged were worse than they had been before the visit
+to the drink-seller.
+
+Two friends are seated separately on two camp-bedsteads. One is tall,
+vigorous, fleshy, with a red face--a regular butcher. He is on the point
+of weeping; for he has been much moved. The other is tall, thin,
+conceited, with an immense nose, which always seems to have a cold, and
+little blue eyes fixed upon the ground. He is a clever, well-bred man,
+and was formerly a secretary. He treats his friend with a little
+disdain, which the latter cannot stand. They have been drinking together
+all day.
+
+"You have taken a liberty with me," cries the stout one, as with his
+left hand he shakes the head of his companion. To take a liberty
+signifies, in convict language, to strike. This convict, formerly a
+non-commissioned officer, envies in secret the elegance of his
+neighbour, and endeavours to make up for his material grossness by
+refined conversation.
+
+"I tell you, you are wrong," says the secretary, in a dogmatic tone,
+with his eyes obstinately fixed on the ground, and without looking at
+his companion.
+
+"You struck me. Do you hear?" continues the other, still shaking his
+dear friend. "You are the only man in the world I care for; but you
+shall not take a liberty with me."
+
+"Confess, my dear fellow," replies the secretary, "that all this is the
+result of too much drink."
+
+The corpulent friend falls back with a stagger, looks stupidly with his
+drunken eyes at the secretary, and suddenly, with all his might, sends
+his fist into the secretary's thin face. Thus terminates the day's
+friendship.
+
+The dear friend disappears beneath the camp-bedstead unconscious.
+
+One of my acquaintances enters the barracks. He is a convict of the
+special section, very good-natured, and gay, far from stupid, and
+jocular without malice. He is the man who, on my arrival at the convict
+prison, was looking out for a rich peasant, who spoke so much of his
+self-respect, and ended by drinking my tea. He was forty years old, had
+enormous lips, and a fat, fleshy, red nose. He held a balalaika, and
+struck negligently its strings. He was followed by a little convict,
+with a large head, whom I knew very little, and to whom no one paid any
+attention. Now that he was drunk he had attached himself to Vermaloff,
+and followed him like his shadow, at the same time gesticulating and
+striking with his fist the wall and the camp-bedsteads. He was almost in
+tears. Vermaloff did not notice him any more than if he had not existed.
+The most curious point was that these two men in no way resembled one
+another, neither by their occupations nor by their disposition. They
+belonged to different sections, and lived in separate barracks. The
+little convict was named Bulkin.
+
+Vermaloff smiled when he saw me seated by the stove. He stopped at some
+distance from me, reflected for a moment, tottered, and then came
+towards me with an affected swagger. Then he swept the strings of his
+instrument, and sung, or recited, tapping at the same time with his boot
+on the ground, the following chant:
+
+
+     My darling!
+     With her full, fair face,
+     Sings like a nightingale;
+     In her satin dress,
+     With its brilliant trimming,
+     She is very fair.
+
+
+This song excited Bulkin in an extraordinary manner. He agitated his
+arms, and shrieked out to every one: "He lies, my friends; he lies like
+a quack doctor. There is not a shadow of truth in what he sings."
+
+"My respects to the venerable Alexander Petrovitch," said Vermaloff,
+looking at me with a knowing smile. I fancied even he wished to embrace
+me. He was drunk. As for the expression, "My respects to the venerable
+so-and-so," it is employed by the common people throughout Siberia, even
+when addressed to a young man of twenty. To call a man old is a sign of
+respect, and may amount even to flattery.
+
+"Well, Vermaloff, how are you?" I replied.
+
+"So, so. Nothing to boast of. Those who really enjoy the holiday have
+been drinking since early morning."
+
+Vermaloff did not speak very distinctly.
+
+"He lies; he lies again," said Bulkin, striking the camp-bedsteads with
+a sort of despair.
+
+One might have sworn that Vermaloff had given his word of honour not to
+pay any attention to him. That was really the most comic thing about it;
+for Bulkin had not quitted him for one moment since the morning. Always
+with him, he quarrelled with Vermaloff about every word; wringing his
+hands, and striking with his fists against the wall and the camp
+bedsteads till he made them bleed, he suffered visibly from his
+conviction that Vermaloff "lied like a quack doctor." If Bulkin had had
+hair on his head, he would certainly have torn it in his grief, in his
+profound mortification. One might have thought that he had made himself
+responsible for Vermaloff's actions, and that all Vermaloff's faults
+troubled his conscience. The amusing part of it was that Vermaloff
+continued.
+
+"He lies! He lies! He lies!" cried Bulkin.
+
+"What can it matter to you?" replied the convicts, with a laugh.
+
+"I must tell you, Alexander Petrovitch, that I was very good-looking
+when I was a young man, and the young girls were very fond of me," said
+Vermaloff suddenly.
+
+"He lies! He lies!" again interrupted Bulkin, with a groan. The convicts
+burst into a laugh.
+
+"And well I got myself up to please them. I had a red shirt, and broad
+trousers of cotton velvet. I was happy in those days. I got up when I
+liked; did whatever I pleased. In fact----"
+
+"He lies," declared Bulkin.
+
+"I inherited from my father a stone house, two storeys high. Within two
+years I made away with the two storeys; nothing remained to me but the
+street door. Well, what of that. Money comes and goes like a bird."
+
+"He lies!" declared Bulkin, more resolutely than before.
+
+"Then when I had spent all, I sent a letter to my relations, that they
+might send me some money. They said that I had set their will at naught,
+that I was disrespectful. It is now seven years since I sent off my
+letter."
+
+"And any answer?" I asked, with a smile.
+
+"No," he replied, also laughing, and almost putting his nose in my face.
+
+He then informed me that he had a sweetheart.
+
+"You a sweetheart?"
+
+"Onufriel said to me the other day: 'My young woman is marked with
+small-pox, and as ugly as you like; but she has plenty of dresses, while
+yours, though she may be pretty, is a beggar.'"
+
+"Is that true?"
+
+"Certainly, she is a beggar," he answered.
+
+He burst into a laugh, and the others laughed with him. Every one indeed
+knew that he had a _liaison_ with a beggar woman, to whom he gave ten
+kopecks every six months.
+
+"Well, what do you want with me?" I said to him, wishing at last to get
+rid of him.
+
+He remained silent, and then, looking at me in the most insinuating
+manner, said:
+
+"Could not you let me have enough money to buy half-a-pint? I have drunk
+nothing but tea the whole day," he added, as he took from me the money I
+offered him; "and tea affects me in such a manner that I am afraid of
+becoming asthmatic. It gives me the wind."
+
+When he took the money I offered him, the despair of Bulkin went beyond
+all bounds. He gesticulated like a man possessed.
+
+"Good people all," he cried, "the man lies. Everything he
+says--everything is a lie."
+
+"What can it matter to you?" cried the convicts, astonished at his
+goings on. "You are possessed."
+
+"I will not allow him to lie," continued Bulkin, rolling his eyes, and
+striking his fist with energy on the boards. "He shall not lie."
+
+Every one laughed. Vermaloff bowed to me after receiving the money, and
+hastened, with many grimaces, to go to the drink-seller. Then only he
+noticed Bulkin.
+
+"Come!" he said to him, as if the latter were indispensable for the
+execution of some design. "Idiot!" he added, with contempt, as Bulkin
+passed before him.
+
+But enough about this tumultuous scene, which, at last, came to an end.
+The convicts went to sleep heavily on their camp-bedsteads. They spoke
+and raged during their sleep more than on the other nights. Here and
+there they still continued to play at cards. The festival looked forward
+to with such impatience was now over, and to-morrow the daily work, the
+hard labour, will begin again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE PERFORMANCE.
+
+
+On the evening of the third day of the holidays took place our first
+theatrical performance. There had been much trouble about organising it.
+But those who were to act had taken everything upon themselves, and the
+other convicts knew nothing about the representation except that it was
+to take place. We did not even know what was to be played. The actors,
+while they were at work, were always thinking how they could get
+together the greatest number of costumes. Whenever I met Baklouchin he
+snapped his fingers with satisfaction, but told me nothing. I think the
+Major was in a good humour; but we did not know for certain whether he
+knew what was going on or not, whether he had authorised it, or whether
+he had determined to shut his eyes and be silent, after assuring himself
+that everything would take place quietly. He had heard, I fancy, of the
+meditated representation, and said nothing about it, lest he should
+spoil everything. The soldiers would be disorderly, or would get drunk,
+unless they had something to divert them. Thus I think the Major must
+have reasoned, for it will be only natural to do so. I may add that if
+the convicts had not got up a performance during the holidays, or done
+something of the kind, the administration would have been obliged to
+organise some sort of amusement; but as our Major was distinguished by
+ideas directly opposed to those of other people, I take a great
+responsibility on myself in saying that he knew of our project and
+authorised it. A man like him must always be crushing and stifling some
+one, taking something away, depriving some one of a right--in a word,
+for establishing order of this character he was known throughout the
+town.
+
+It mattered nothing to him that his exactions made the men rebellious.
+For such offences there were suitable punishments (there are some people
+who reason in this way), and with these rascals of convicts there was
+nothing to do but to treat them very severely, deal with them strictly
+according to law. These incapable executants of the law did not in the
+least understand that to apply the law without understanding its spirit
+is to provoke resistance. They are quite astonished that, in addition to
+the execution of the law, good sense and a sound head should be expected
+from them. The last condition would appear to them quite superfluous; to
+require such a thing is vexatious, intolerant.
+
+However this may be, the Sergeant-Major made no objection to the
+performance, and that was all the convicts wanted. I may say in all
+truth that if throughout the holidays there were no disorders in the
+convict prison, no sanguinary quarrels, no robberies, that must be
+attributed to the convicts being permitted to organise their
+performance. I saw with my own eyes how they got out of the way of those
+of their companions who had drunk too much, and how they prevented
+quarrels on the ground that the representation would be forbidden. The
+non-commissioned officer made the prisoners give their word of honour
+that they would behave well, and that all would go off quietly. They
+gave it with pleasure, and kept their promise religiously. They were
+much flattered at finding their word of honour accepted. Let me add that
+the representation cost nothing, absolutely nothing, to the
+authorities, who were not called upon to spend a farthing. The theatre
+could be put up and taken down within a quarter of an hour; and, in case
+an order stopping the performance suddenly arrived, the scenery could
+have been put away in a second. The costumes were concealed in the
+convicts' boxes; but first of all let me say how our theatre was
+constructed, what were the costumes, and what the bill, that is to say,
+the pieces that were to be played. To tell the truth, there was no
+written playbill, not, at least, for the first representation. It was
+ready only for the second and third. Baklouchin composed it for the
+officers and other distinguished visitors who might deign to honour the
+performance with their presence, including the officer of the guard, the
+officer of the watch, and an Engineer officer. It was in honour of these
+that the playbill was written out.
+
+It was supposed that the reputation of our theatre would extend to the
+fortress, and even to the town, especially as there was no theatre at
+N----: a few amateur performances, but nothing more. The convicts
+delighted in the smallest success, and boasted of it like children.
+
+"Who knows?" they said to one another; "when our chiefs hear of it they
+will perhaps come and see. Then they will know what convicts are worth,
+for this is not a performance given by soldiers, but a genuine piece
+played by genuine actors; nothing like it could be seen anywhere in the
+town. General Abrosimoff had a representation at his house, and it is
+said he will have another. Well, they may beat us in the matter of
+costumes, but as for the dialogue that is a very different thing. The
+Governor himself will perhaps hear of it, and--who knows?--he may come
+himself."
+
+They had no theatre in the town. In a word, the imagination of the
+convicts, above all after their first success, went so far as to make
+them think that rewards would be distributed to them, and that their
+period of hard labour would be shortened. A moment afterwards they were
+the first to laugh at this fancy. In a word, they were children, true
+children, when they were forty years of age. I knew in a general way the
+subjects of the pieces that were to be represented, although there was
+no bill. The title of the first was _Philatka and Miroshka Rivals_.
+Baklouchin boasted to me, at least a week before the performance, that
+the part of Philatka, which he had assigned to himself, would be played
+in such a manner that nothing like it had ever been seen, even on the
+St. Petersburg stage. He walked about in the barracks puffed up with
+boundless importance. If now and then he declaimed a speech from his
+part in the theatrical style, every one burst out laughing, whether the
+speech was amusing or not; they laughed because he had forgotten
+himself. It must be admitted that the convicts, as a body, were
+self-contained and full of dignity; the only ones who got enthusiastic
+at Baklouchin's tirades were the young ones, who had no false shame, or
+those who were much looked up to, and whose authority was so firmly
+established that they were not afraid to commit themselves. The others
+listened silently, without blaming or contradicting, but they did their
+best to show that the performance left them indifferent.
+
+It was not until the very last moment, the very day of the
+representation, that every one manifested genuine interest in what our
+companions had undertaken. "What," was the general question, "would the
+Major say? Would the performance succeed as well as the one given two
+years before?" etc., etc. Baklouchin assured me that all the actors
+would be quite at home on the stage, and that there would even be a
+curtain. Sirotkin was to play a woman's part. "You will see how well I
+look in women's clothes," he said. The Lady Bountiful was to have a
+dress with skirts and trimmings, besides a parasol; while her husband,
+the Lord of the Manor, was to wear an officer's uniform, with
+epaulettes, and a cane in his hand.
+
+The second piece that was to be played was entitled, _Kedril, the
+Glutton_. The title puzzled me much, but it was useless to ask any
+questions about it. I could only learn that the piece was not printed;
+it was a manuscript copy obtained from a retired non-commissioned
+officer in the town, who had doubtless formerly participated in its
+representation on some military stage. We have, indeed, in the distant
+towns and governments, a number of pieces of this kind, which, I
+believe, are perfectly unknown and have never been printed, but which
+appear to have grown up of themselves, in connection with the popular
+theatre, in certain zones of Russia. I have spoken of the popular
+theatre. It would be a good thing if our investigators of popular
+literature would take the trouble to make careful researches as to this
+popular theatre which exists, and which, perhaps, is not so
+insignificant as may be thought.
+
+I cannot think that everything I saw on the stage of our convict prison
+was the work of our convicts. It must have sprung from old traditions
+handed down from generation to generation, and preserved among the
+soldiers, the workmen in industrial towns, and even the shopkeepers in
+some poor, out-of-the-way places. These traditions have been preserved
+in some villages and some Government towns by the servants of the large
+landed proprietors. I even believe that copies of many old pieces have
+been multiplied by these servants of the nobility.
+
+The old Muscovite proprietors and nobles had their own theatres, in
+which their servants used to play. Thence comes our popular theatre, the
+originals of which are beyond discussion. As for _Kedril, the Glutton_,
+in spite of my lively curiosity, I could learn nothing about it, except
+that demons appeared on the stage and carried Kedril away to hell. What
+did the name of Kedril signify? Why was he called Kedril and not Cyril?
+Was the name Russian or foreign? I could not resolve this question.
+
+It was announced that the representation would terminate with a musical
+pantomime. All this promised to be very curious. The actors were
+fifteen in number, all vivacious men. They were very energetic, got up a
+number of rehearsals which sometimes took place behind the barracks,
+kept away from the others, and gave themselves mysterious airs. They
+evidently wished to surprise us with something extraordinary and
+unexpected.
+
+On work days the barracks were shut very early as night approached, but
+an exception was made during the Christmas holidays, when the padlocks
+were not put to the gates until the evening retreat--nine o'clock. This
+favour had been granted specially in view of the play. During the whole
+duration of the holidays a deputation was sent every evening to the
+officer of the guard very humbly "to permit the representation and not
+to shut at the usual hour." It was added that there had been previous
+representations, and that nothing disorderly had occurred at any of
+them.
+
+The officer of the guard must have reasoned as follows: There was no
+disorder, no infraction of discipline at the previous performance, and
+the moment they give their word that to-night's performance shall take
+place in the same manner, they mean to be their own police--the most
+rigorous police of all. Moreover, he knew well that if he took it upon
+himself to forbid the representation, these fellows (who knows, and with
+convicts?) would have committed some offence which would have placed the
+officer of the guard in a very difficult position. One final reason
+insured his consent: To mount guard is horribly tiresome, and if he
+authorised the performance he would see the play acted, not by soldiers,
+but by convicts, a curious set of people. It would certainly be
+interesting, and he had a right to be present at it.
+
+In case the superior officer arrived and asked for the officer of the
+guard, he would be told that the latter had gone to count the convicts
+and close the barracks; an answer which could easily be made, and which
+could not be disproved. That is why our superintendents authorised the
+performance; and throughout the holidays the barracks were kept open
+each evening until the retreat. The convicts had known beforehand that
+they would meet with no opposition from the officer of the guard. They
+were quite quiet about him.
+
+Towards six o'clock Petroff came to look for me, and we went together to
+the theatre. Nearly all the prisoners of our barracks were there, with
+the exception of the "old believer" from Tchernigoff, and the Poles. The
+latter did not decide to be present until the last day of the
+representation, the 4th of January, after they had been assured that
+everything would be managed in a becoming manner. The haughtiness of the
+Poles irritated our convicts. Accordingly they were received on the 4th
+of January with formal politeness, and conducted to the best places. As
+for the Circassians and Isaiah Fomitch, the play was for them a genuine
+delight. Isaiah Fomitch gave three kopecks each time, except the last,
+when he placed ten kopecks on the plate; and how happy he looked!
+
+The actors had decided that each spectator should give what he thought
+fit. The receipts were to cover the expenses, and anything beyond was to
+go to the actors. Petroff assured me that I should be allowed to have
+one of the best places, however full the theatre might be; first,
+because being richer than the others, there was a probability of my
+giving more; and, secondly, because I knew more about acting than any
+one else. What he had foreseen took place. But let me first describe the
+theatre.
+
+The barrack of the military section, which had been turned into the
+theatre, was fifteen feet long. From the court-yard one entered, first
+an ante-chamber, and afterwards the barrack itself. The building was
+arranged, as I have already mentioned, in a particular manner, the beds
+being placed against the wall, so as to leave an open space in the
+middle. One half of the barrack was reserved for the spectators, while
+the other, which communicated with the second building, formed the
+stage. What astonished me directly I entered, was the curtain, which was
+about ten feet long, and divided the barrack into two. It was indeed a
+marvel, for it was painted in oil, and represented trees, tunnels,
+ponds, and stars.
+
+It was made of pieces of linen, old and new, given by the convicts;
+shirts, the bandages which our peasants wrap round their feet in lieu of
+socks, all sewn together well or ill, and forming together an immense
+sheet. Where there was not enough linen, it had been replaced by writing
+paper, taken sheet by sheet from the various office bureaus. Our
+painters (among whom we had our Bruloff) had painted it all over, and
+the effect was very remarkable.
+
+This luxurious curtain delighted the convicts, even the most sombre and
+most morose. These, however, like the others, as soon as the play began,
+showed themselves mere children. They were all pleased and satisfied
+with a certain satisfaction of vanity. The theatre was lighted with
+candle ends. Two benches, which had been brought from the kitchen, were
+placed before the curtain, together with three or four large chairs,
+borrowed from the non-commissioned officers' room. These chairs were for
+the officers, should they think fit to honour the performance. As for
+the benches, they were for the non-commissioned officers, engineers,
+clerks, directors of the works, and all the immediate superiors of the
+convicts who had not officer's rank, and who had come perhaps to take a
+look at the representation. In fact, there was no lack of visitors.
+According to the days, they came in greater or smaller numbers, while
+for the last representation there was not a single place unoccupied on
+the benches.
+
+At the back the convicts stood crowded together; standing up out of
+respect to the visitors, and dressed in their vests, or in their short
+pelisses, in spite of the suffocating heat. As might have been expected,
+the place was too small; so all the prisoners stood up, heaped
+together--above all in the last rows. The camp-bedsteads were all
+occupied; and there were some amateurs who disputed constantly behind
+the stage in the other barrack, and who viewed the performance from the
+back. I was asked to go forward, and Petroff with me, close to the
+benches, whence a good view could be obtained. They looked upon me as a
+good judge, a connoisseur, who had seen many other theatres. The
+convicts remarked that Baklouchin had often consulted me, and that he
+had shown deference to my advice. Consequently they thought that I ought
+to be treated with honour, and to have one of the best places. These men
+are vain and frivolous, but only on the surface. They laughed at me when
+I was at work, because I was a poor workman. Almazoff had a right to
+despise us gentlemen, and to boast of his superior skill in pounding the
+alabaster. His laughter and raillery were directed against our origin,
+for we belonged by birth to the caste of his former masters, of whom he
+could not preserve a good recollection; but here at the theatre these
+same men made way for me; for they knew that about this matter I knew
+more than they did. Those, even, who were not at all well disposed
+towards me, were glad to hear me praise the performance, and gave way to
+me without the least servility. I judged now by my impressions of that
+time. I understood that in this new view of theirs there was no lowering
+of themselves; rather a sentiment of their own dignity.
+
+The most striking characteristic of our people is its conscientiousness,
+and its love of justice; no false vanity, no sly ambition to reach the
+first rank without being entitled to do so; such faults are foreign to
+our people. Take it from its rough shell, and you will perceive, if you
+study it without prejudice, attentively, and close at hand, qualities
+which you would never have suspected. Our sages have very little to
+teach our people. I will even say more; they might take lessons from it.
+
+Petroff had told me innocently, on taking me into the theatre, that they
+would pass me to the front, because they expected more money from me.
+There were no fixed prices for the places. Each one gave what he liked,
+and what he could. Nearly every one placed a piece of money in the plate
+when it was handed round. Even if they had passed me forward in the hope
+that I should give more than others, was there not in that a certain
+feeling of personal dignity?
+
+"You are richer than I am. Go to the first row. We are all equal here,
+it is true; but you pay more, and the actors prefer a spectator like
+you. Occupy the first place then, for we are not here with money, and
+must arrange ourselves anyhow."
+
+What noble pride in this mode of action! In final analysis not love of
+money, but self-respect. There was little esteem for money among us. I
+do not remember that one of us ever lowered himself to obtain money.
+Some men used to make up to me, but from love of cunning and of fun
+rather than in the hope of obtaining any benefit. I do not know whether
+I explain myself clearly. I am, in any case, forgetting the performance.
+Let me return to it.
+
+Before the rise of the curtain, the room presented a strange and
+animated look. In the first place, the crowd pressed, crushed, jammed
+together on all sides, but impatient, full of expectation, every face
+glowing with delight. In the last ranks was the grovelling, confused
+mass of convicts. Many of them had brought with them logs of wood, which
+they placed against the wall, on which they climbed up. In this
+fatiguing position they paused to rest themselves by placing both hands
+on the shoulders of their companions, who seemed quite at ease. Others
+stood on their toes, with their heels against the stove, and thus
+remained throughout the representation, supported by those around them.
+Massed against the camp-bedsteads was another compact crowd; for here
+were some of the best places of all. Five convicts had hoisted
+themselves up to the top of the stove, whence they had a commanding
+view. These fortunate ones were extremely happy. Elsewhere swarmed the
+late arrivals, unable to find good places.
+
+Every one conducted himself in a becoming manner, without making any
+noise. Each one wished to show advantageously before the distinguished
+persons who were visiting us. Simple and natural was the expression of
+these red faces, damp with perspiration, as the rise of the curtain was
+eagerly expected. What a strange look of infinite delight, of unmixed
+pleasure, was painted on these scarred faces, these branded foreheads,
+so dark and menacing at ordinary times! They were all without their
+caps, and as I looked back at them from my place, it seemed to me that
+their heads were entirely shaved.
+
+Suddenly the signal is given, and the orchestra begins to play. This
+orchestra deserves a special mention. It consisted of eight musicians:
+two violins, one of which was the property of a convict, while the other
+had been borrowed from outside; three balalaiki, made by the convicts
+themselves; two guitars, and a tambourine. The violins sighed and
+shrieked, and the guitars were worthless, but the balalaiki were
+remarkably good; and the agile fingering of the artists would have done
+honour to the cleverest executant.
+
+They played scarcely anything but dance tunes. At the most exciting
+passages they struck with their fingers on the body of their
+instruments. The tone, the execution of the motive, were always original
+and distinctive. One of the guitarists knew his instrument thoroughly.
+It was the gentleman who had killed his father. As for the tambourinist,
+he really did wonders. Now he whirled round the disk, balanced on one of
+his fingers; now he rubbed the parchment with his thumb, and brought
+from it a countless multitude of notes, now dull, now brilliant.
+
+At last two harmonigers join the orchestra. I had no idea until then of
+all that could be done with these popular and vulgar instruments. I was
+astonished. The harmony, but, above all, the expression, the very
+conception of the motive, were admirably rendered. I then understood
+perfectly, and for the first time, the remarkable boldness, the
+striking abandonment, which are expressed in our popular dance tunes,
+and our village songs.
+
+At last the curtain rose. Every one made a movement. Those who were at
+the back raised themselves upon the point of their feet; some one fell
+down from his log. At once there were looks that enjoined silence. The
+performance now began.
+
+I was seated not far from Ali, who was in the midst of the group formed
+by his brothers and the other Circassians. They had a passionate love of
+the theatre, and did not miss one of our evenings. I have remarked that
+all the Mohammedans, Circassians, and so on, are fond of all kinds of
+representations. Near them was Isaiah Fomitch, quite in a state of
+ecstasy. As soon as the curtain rose he was all ears and eyes; his
+countenance expressed an expectation of something marvellous. I should
+have been grieved had he been disappointed. The charming face of Ali
+shone with a childish joy, so pure that I was quite happy to behold it.
+Involuntarily, whenever a general laugh echoed an amusing remark, I
+turned towards him to see his countenance. He did not notice it, he had
+something else to do.
+
+Near him, placed on the left, was a convict, already old, sombre,
+discontented, and always grumbling. He also had noticed Ali, and I saw
+him cast furtive glances more than once towards him, so charming was the
+young Circassian. The prisoners always called him Ali Simeonitch,
+without my knowing why.
+
+In the first piece, _Philatka and Miroshka_, Baklouchin, in the part of
+Philatka, was really marvellous. He played his role to perfection. It
+could be seen that he had weighed each speech, each movement. He managed
+to give to each word, each gesture, a meaning which responded perfectly
+to the character of the personage. Apart from the conscientious study he
+had made of the character, he was gay, simple, natural, irresistible. If
+you had seen Baklouchin you would certainly have said that he was a
+genuine actor, an actor by vocation, and of great talent. I have seen
+Philatka several times at the St. Petersburg and Moscow theatres, and I
+declare that none of our celebrated actors was equal to Baklouchin in
+this part. They were peasants, from no matter what country, and not true
+Russian moujiks. Moreover, their desire to be peasant-like was too
+apparent. Baklouchin was animated by emulation; for it was known that
+the convict Potsiakin was to play the part of Kedril in the second
+piece, and it was assumed--I do not know why--that the latter would show
+more talent than Baklouchin. The latter was as vexed by this preference
+as a child. How many times did he not come to me during the last days to
+tell me all he felt! Two hours before the representation he was attacked
+by fever. When the audience burst out laughing, and called out "Bravo,
+Baklouchin! what a fellow you are!" his figure shone with joy, and true
+inspiration could be read in his eyes. The scene of the kisses between
+Kiroshka and Philatka, in which the latter calls out to the daughter,
+"Wife, your mouth," and then wipes his own, was wonderfully comic. Every
+one burst out laughing.
+
+What interested me was the spectators. They were all at their ease, and
+gave themselves up frankly to their mirth. Cries of approbation became
+more and more numerous. A convict nudged his companion with his elbow,
+and hastily communicated his impressions, without even troubling himself
+to know who was by his side. When a comic song began, one man might be
+seen agitating his arms violently, as if to engage his companions to
+laugh; after which he turned suddenly towards the stage. A third smacked
+his tongue against his palate, and could not keep quiet a moment; but as
+there was not room for him to change his position, he hopped first on
+one leg, then on the other; towards the end of the piece the general
+gaiety attained its climax. I exaggerate nothing. Imagine the convict
+prison, chains, captivity, long years of confinement, of task-work, of
+monotonous life, falling away drop by drop like rain on an autumn day;
+imagine all this despair in presence of permission given to the convicts
+to amuse themselves, to breathe freely for an hour, to forget their
+nightmare, and to organise a play--and what a play! one that excited the
+envy and admiration of our town.
+
+"Fancy those convicts!" people said: everything interested them, take
+the costumes for instance. It seemed very strange, but then to see,
+Nietsvitaeff, or Baklouchin, in a different costume from the one they
+had worn for so many years.
+
+He is a convict, a genuine convict, whose chains ring when he walks; and
+there he is, out on the stage with a frock-coat, and a round hat, and a
+cloak, like any ordinary civilian. He has put on hair, moustaches. He
+takes a red handkerchief from his pocket and shakes it, like a real
+nobleman. What enthusiasm is created! The "good landlord" arrives in an
+aide-de-camp uniform, a very old one, it is true, but with epaulettes,
+and a cocked hat. The effect produced was indescribable. There had been
+two candidates for this costume, and--will it be believed?--they had
+quarrelled like two little schoolboys as to which of them should play
+the part. Both wanted to appear in military uniform with epaulettes. The
+other actors separated them, and, by a majority of voices, the part was
+entrusted to Nietsvitaeff; not because he was more suited to it than the
+other, and that he bore a greater resemblance to a nobleman, but only
+because he had assured them all that he would have a cane, and that he
+would twirl it and rap it out grand, like a true nobleman--a dandy of
+the latest fashion--which was more than Vanka and Ospiety could do,
+seeing they have never known any noblemen. In fact, when Nietsvitaeff
+went to the stage with his wife, he did nothing but draw circles on the
+floor with his light bamboo cane, evidently thinking that this was the
+sign of the best breeding, of supreme elegance. Probably in his
+childhood, when he was still a barefooted child, he had been attracted
+by the skill of some proprietor in twirling his cane, and this
+impression had remained in his memory, although thirty years afterwards.
+
+Nietsvitaeff was so occupied with his process that he saw no one, he
+gave the replies in his dialogue without even raising his eyes. The most
+important thing for him was the end of his cane, and the circles he drew
+with it. The Lady Bountiful was also very remarkable; she came on in an
+old worn-out muslin dress, which looked like a rag. Her arms and neck
+were bare. She had a little calico cap on her head, with strings under
+her chin, an umbrella in one hand, and in the other a fan of coloured
+paper, with which she constantly fanned herself. This great lady was
+welcomed with a wild laugh; she herself, too, was unable to restrain
+herself, and burst out more than once. The part was filled by the
+convict Ivanoff. As for Sirotkin, in his girl's dress, he looked
+exceedingly well. The couplets were all well sung. In a word, the piece
+was played to the satisfaction of every one; not the least hostile
+criticism was passed--who, indeed, was there to criticise? The air,
+"Sieni moi Sieni," was played again by way of overture, and the curtain
+again went up.
+
+_Kedril, the Glutton_, was now to be played. Kedril is a sort of Don
+Juan. This comparison may justly be made, for the master and the servant
+are both carried away by devils at the end of the piece; and the piece,
+as the convicts had it, was played quite correctly; but the beginning
+and the end must have been lost, for it had neither head nor tail. The
+scene is laid in an inn somewhere in Russia. The innkeeper introduces
+into a room a nobleman wearing a cloak and a battered round hat; the
+valet, Kedril, follows his master; he carries a valise, and a fowl
+rolled up in blue paper; he wears a short pelisse and a footman's cap.
+It is this fellow who is the glutton. The convict Potsiakin, the rival
+of Baklouchin, played this part, while the part of the nobleman was
+filled by Ivanoff, the same who played the great lady in the first
+piece. The innkeeper (Nietsvitaeff) warns the nobleman that the room is
+haunted by demons, and goes away; the nobleman is interested and
+preoccupied; he murmurs aloud that he has known that for a long time,
+and orders Kedril to unpack his things and to get supper ready.
+
+Kedril is a glutton and a coward. When he hears of devils he turns pale
+and trembles like a leaf; he would like to run away, but is afraid of
+his master; besides, he is hungry, he is voluptuous, he is sensual,
+stupid, though cunning in his way, and, as before said, a poltroon; he
+cheats his master every moment, though he fears him like fire. This type
+of servant is a remarkable one in which may be recognised the principal
+features of the character of Leporello, but indistinct and confused. The
+part was played in really superior style by Potsiakin, whose talent was
+beyond discussion, surpassing as it did in my opinion that of Baklouchin
+himself. But when the next day I spoke to Baklouchin I concealed my
+impression from him, knowing that it would give him bitter pain.
+
+As for the convict who played the part of the nobleman, it was not bad.
+Everything he said was without meaning, incomparable to anything I had
+ever heard before; but his enunciation was pure and his gestures
+becoming. While Kedril occupies himself with the valise, his master
+walks up and down, and announces that from that day forth he means to
+lead a quiet life. Kedril listens, makes grimaces, and amuses the
+spectators by his reflections "aside." He has no pity for his master,
+but he has heard of devils, would like to know what they are like, and
+thereupon questions him. The nobleman replies that some time ago, being
+in danger of death, he asked succour from hell. Then the devils aided
+and delivered him, but the term of his liberty has expired; and if the
+devils come that evening, it will be to exact his soul, as has been
+agreed in their compact. Kedril begins to tremble in earnest, but his
+master does not lose courage, and orders him to prepare the supper.
+Hearing of victuals, Kedril revives. Taking out a bottle of wine, he
+taps it on his own account. The audience expands with laughter; but the
+door grates on its hinges, the winds shakes the shutters, Kedril
+trembles, and hastily, almost without knowing what he is doing, puts
+into his mouth an enormous piece of fowl, which he is unable to swallow.
+There is another gust of wind.
+
+"Is it ready?" cries the master, still walking backwards and forwards in
+his room.
+
+"Directly, sir. I am preparing it," says Kedril, who sits down, and,
+taking care that his master does not see him, begins to eat the supper
+himself. The audience is evidently charmed with the cunning of the
+servant, who so cleverly makes game of the nobleman; and it must be
+admitted that Poseikin, the representative of the part, deserved high
+praise. He pronounced admirably the words: "Directly, sir.
+I--am--preparing--it."
+
+Kedril eats gradually, and at each mouthful trembles lest his master
+shall see him. Every time that the nobleman turns round Kedril hides
+under the table, holding the fowl in his hand. When he has appeased his
+hunger, he begins to think of his master.
+
+"Kedril, will it soon be ready?" cries the nobleman.
+
+"It is ready now," replies Kedril boldly, when all at once he perceives
+that there is scarcely anything left. Nothing remains but one leg. The
+master, still sombre and pre-occupied, notices nothing, and takes his
+seat, while Kedril places himself behind him with a napkin on his arm.
+Every word, every gesture, every grimace from the servant, as he turns
+towards the audience to laugh at his master's expense, excites the
+greatest mirth among the convicts. Just at the moment when the young
+nobleman begins to eat, the devils arrive. They resemble nothing human
+or terrestrial. The side-door opens, and the phantom appears dressed
+entirely in white, with a lighted lantern in lieu of a head, and with a
+scythe in its hand. Why the white dress, scythe, and lantern? No one
+could tell me, and the matter did not trouble the convicts. They were
+sure that this was the way it ought to be done. The master comes
+forward courageously to meet the apparitions, and calls out to them that
+he is ready, and that they can take him. But Kedril, as timid as a hare,
+hides under the table, not forgetting, in spite of his fright, to take a
+bottle with him. The devils disappear, Kedril comes out of his
+hiding-place, and the master begins to eat his fowl. Three devils enter
+the room, and seize him to take him to hell.
+
+"Save me, Kedril," he cries. But Kedril has something else to think of.
+He has now with him in his hiding-place not only the bottle, but also
+the plate of fowl and the bread. He is now alone. The demons are far
+away, and his master also. Kedril gets from under the table, looks all
+round, and suddenly his face beams with joy. He winks, like the rogue he
+is, sits down in his master's place, and whispers to the audience: "I
+have now no master but myself."
+
+Every one laughs at seeing him masterless; and he says, always in an
+under-tone and with a confidential air: "The devils have carried him
+off!"
+
+The enthusiasm of the spectators is now without limits. The last phrase
+was uttered with such roguery, with such a triumphant grimace, that it
+was impossible not to applaud. But Kedril's happiness does not last
+long. Hardly has he taken up the bottle of wine, and poured himself out
+a large glass, which he carries to his lips, than the devils return,
+slip behind, and seize him. Kedril howls like one possessed, but he dare
+not turn round. He wishes to defend himself, but cannot, for in his
+hands he holds the bottle and the glass, from which he will not
+separate. His eyes starting from his head, his mouth gaping with horror,
+he remains for a moment looking at the audience with a comic expression
+of cowardice that might have been painted. At last he is dragged,
+carried away. His arms and legs are agitated in every direction, but he
+still sticks to his bottle. He also shrieks, and his cries are still
+heard when he has been carried from the stage.
+
+The curtain falls amid general laughter, and every one is delighted.
+The orchestra now attacks the famous dance tune Kamarinskaia. First it
+is played softly, pianissimo; but little by little, the motive is
+developed and played more lightly. The time is quickened, and the wood,
+as well as the strings of the balalaiki, is made to sound. The musicians
+enter thoroughly into the spirit of the dance. Glinka [who has arranged
+the Kamarinskaia in the most ingenious manner, and with harmonies of his
+own devising, for full orchestra] should have heard it as it was
+executed in our Convict Prison.
+
+The pantomimic musical accompaniment is begun; and throughout the
+Kamarinskaia is played. The stage represents the interior of a hut. A
+miller and his wife are sitting down, one mending clothes, the other
+spinning flax. Sirotkin plays the part of the wife, and Nietsvitaeff
+that of the husband. Our scenery was very poor. In this piece, as in the
+preceding ones, imagination had to supply what was wanting in reality.
+Instead of a wall at the back of the stage, there was a carpet or a
+blanket; on the right, shabby screens; while on the left, where the
+stage was not closed, the camp-bedsteads could be seen; but the
+spectators were not exacting, and were willing to imagine all that was
+wanting. It was an easy task for them; all convicts are great dreamers.
+Directly they are told "this is a garden," it is for them a garden.
+Informed that "this is a hut," they accept the definition without
+difficulty. To them it is a hut. Sirotkin was charming in a woman's
+dress. The miller finishes his work, takes his cap and his whip, goes up
+to his wife, and gives her to understand by signs, that if during his
+absence she makes the mistake of receiving any one, she will have to
+deal with him--and he shows her his whip. The wife listens, and nods
+affirmatively her head. The whip is evidently known to her; the hussey
+has often deserved it. The husband goes out. Hardly has he turned upon
+his heel, than his wife shakes her fist at him. There is a knock; the
+door opens, and in comes a neighbour, miller also by trade. He wears a
+beard, is in a kuftan, and he brings as a present a red handkerchief.
+The woman smiles. Another knock is heard at the door. Where shall she
+hide him? She conceals him under the table, and takes up her distaff
+again. Another admirer now presents himself--a farrier in the uniform of
+a non-commissioned officer.
+
+Until now the pantomime had gone on capitally; the gestures of the
+actors being irreproachable. It was astounding to see these improvised
+players going through their parts in so correct a manner; and
+involuntarily one said to oneself:
+
+"What a deal of talent is lost in our Russia, left without use in our
+prisons and places of exile!"
+
+The convict who played the part of the farrier had, doubtless, taken
+part in a performance at some provincial theatre, or had played with
+amateurs. It seemed to me, in any case, that our actors knew nothing of
+acting as an art, and bore themselves in the meanest manner. When it was
+his turn to appear, he came on like one of the classical heroes of the
+old repertory--taking a long stride with one foot before he raised the
+other from the ground, throwing back his head on the upper part of his
+body and casting proud looks around him. If such a gait was ridiculous
+on the part of classical heroes, still more so was it when the actor was
+representing a comic character. But the audience thought it quite
+natural, and accepted the actor's triumphant walk as a necessary fact,
+without criticising it.
+
+A moment after the entry of the second admirer there is another knock at
+the door. The wife loses her head. Where is the farrier to be concealed?
+In her big box. It fortunately is open. The farrier disappears within it
+and the lid falls upon him.
+
+The new arrival is a Brahmin, in full costume. His entry is hailed by
+the spectators with a formidable laugh. This Brahmin is represented by
+the convict Cutchin, who plays the part perfectly, thanks, in a great
+measure, to a suitable physiognomy. He explains in the pantomime his
+love of the miller's wife, raises his hands to heaven, and then clasps
+them on his breast.
+
+There is now another knock at the door--a vigorous one this time. There
+could be no mistake about it. It is the master of the house. The
+miller's wife loses her head; the Brahmin runs wildly on all sides,
+begging to be concealed. She helps him to slip behind the cupboard, and
+begins to spin, and goes on spinning without thinking of opening the
+door. In her fright she gets the thread twisted, drops the spindle, and,
+in her agitation, makes the gesture of turning it when it is lying on
+the ground. Sirotkin represented perfectly this state of alarm.
+
+Then the miller kicks open the door and approaches his wife, whip in
+hand. He has seen everything, for he was spying outside; and he
+indicates by signs to his wife that she has three lovers concealed in
+the house. Then he searches them out.
+
+First, he finds the neighbour, whom he drives out with his fist. The
+frightened farrier tries to escape. He raises, with his head, the cover
+of the chest, and is at once seen. The miller thrashes him with his
+whip, and for once this gallant does not march in the classical style.
+
+The only one now remaining is the Brahmin, whom the husband seeks for
+some time without finding him. At last he discovers him in his corner
+behind the cupboard, bows to him politely, and then draws him by his
+beard into the middle of the stage. The Brahmin tries to defend himself,
+and cries out, "Accursed, accursed!"--the only words pronounced
+throughout the pantomime. But the husband will not listen to him, and,
+after settling accounts with him, turns to his wife. Seeing that her
+turn has come, she throws away both wheel and spindle, and runs out,
+causing an earthen pot to fall as she shakes the room in her fright. The
+convicts burst into a laugh, and Ali, without looking at me, takes my
+hand, and calls out, "See, see the Brahmin!" He cannot hold himself
+upright, so overpowering is his laugh. The curtain falls, and another
+song begins.
+
+There were two or three more, all broadly humorous and very droll. The
+convicts had not composed them themselves, but they had contributed
+something to them. Every actor improvised to such purpose that the part
+was a different one each evening. The pantomime ended with a ballet, in
+which there was a burial. The Brahmin went through various incantations
+over the corpse, and with effect. The dead man returns to life, and, in
+their joy, all present begin to dance. The Brahmin dances in Brahminical
+style with the dead man. This was the final scene. The convicts now
+separated, happy, delighted, and full of praise for the actors and
+gratitude towards the non-commissioned officers. There was not the least
+quarrel, and they all went to bed with peaceful hearts, to sleep with a
+sleep by no means familiar to them.
+
+This is no fantasy of my imagination, but the truth, the very truth.
+These unhappy men had been permitted to live for some moments in their
+own way, to amuse themselves in a human manner, to escape for a brief
+hour from their sad position as convicts; and a moral change was
+effected, at least for a time.
+
+The night is already quite dark. Something makes me shudder, and I
+awake. The "old believer" is still on the top of the high porcelain
+stove praying, and he will continue to pray until dawn. Ali is sleeping
+peacefully by my side. I remember that when he went to bed he was still
+laughing and talking about the theatre with his brothers. Little by
+little I began to remember everything; the preceding day, the Christmas
+holidays, and the whole month. I raised my head in fright and looked at
+my companions, who were sleeping by the trembling light of the candle
+provided by the authorities. I look at their unhappy countenances, their
+miserable beds; I view this nakedness, the wretchedness, and then
+convince myself that it is not a frightful night there, but a simple
+reality. Yes, it is a reality. I hear a groan. Some one has moved his
+arm and made his chains rattle. Another one is agitated in his dreams
+and speaks aloud, while the old grandfather is praying for the "Orthodox
+Christians." I listened to his prayer, uttered with regularity, in
+soft, rather drawling tones: "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon us."
+
+"Well, I am not here for ever, but only for a few years," I said to
+myself, and I again laid my head down on my pillow.
+
+
+
+
+Part II.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE HOSPITAL
+
+
+Shortly after the Christmas holidays I felt ill, and had to go to our
+military hospital, which stood apart at about half a verst (one-third of
+a mile) from the fortress. It was a one-storey building, very long, and
+painted yellow. Every summer a great quantity of ochre was expended in
+brightening it up. In the immense court-yard stood buildings, including
+those where the chief physicians lived, while the principal building
+contained only wards intended for the patients. There were a good many
+of them, but as only two were reserved for the convicts, these latter
+were nearly always full, above all in summer, so that it was often
+necessary to bring the beds closer together. These wards were occupied
+by "unfortunates" of all kinds: first by our own, then by military
+prisoners, previously incarcerated in the guard-houses. There were
+others, again, who had not yet been tried, or who were passing through.
+In this hospital, too, were invalids from the Disciplinary Company, a
+melancholy institution for bringing together soldiers of bad conduct,
+with a view to their correction. At the end of a year or two, they come
+back the most thorough-going rascals that the earth can endure.
+
+When a convict felt that he was ill, he told the non-commissioned
+officer, who wrote the man's name down on a card, which he then gave to
+him and sent him to the hospital under the escort of a soldier. On his
+arrival he was examined by a doctor, who authorised the convict to
+remain at the hospital if he was really ill. My name was duly written
+down, and towards one o'clock, when all my companions had started for
+their afternoon work, I went to the hospital. Every prisoner took with
+him such money and bread as he could (for food was not to be expected
+the first day), a little pipe, and pouch containing tobacco, with flint,
+steel, and match-paper. The convicts concealed these objects in their
+boots. On entering the hospital I experienced a feeling of curiosity,
+for a new aspect of life was now presented.
+
+The day was hot, cloudy, sad--one of those days when places like a
+hospital assume a particularly disagreeable and repulsive look. Myself
+and the soldier escorting me went into the entrance room, where there
+were two copper baths. There were two convicts waiting there with their
+warders. An assistant surgeon came in, looked at us with a careless and
+patronising air, and went away still more carelessly to announce our
+arrival to the physician on duty. Soon the physician arrived. He
+examined me, treating me in a very affable manner, and gave me a paper
+on which my name was inscribed. The ordinary physician of the wards
+reserved for the convicts was to make the diagnosis of my illness, to
+prescribe the fitting remedies, together with the necessary diet. I had
+already heard the convicts say that their doctors could not be too much
+praised. "They are fathers to us," they would say.
+
+I took my clothes off to put on another costume. Our clothes and linen
+were taken away, and we were given hospital linen instead, to which were
+added long stockings, slippers, cotton nightcaps, and a dressing-gown of
+a very thick brown cloth, which was lined, not with linen, but with
+filth. The dressing-gown was indeed very filthy, but I soon understood
+its utility. We were afterwards taken to the convict wards, which were
+at the head of a long corridor, very high, and very clean. The external
+cleanliness was quite satisfactory. Everything that could be seen shone;
+so, at least, it seemed to me, after the dirtiness of the convict
+prison.
+
+The two prisoners, whom I had found in the entrance hall, went to the
+left of the corridor, while I entered a room. Before the padlocked door
+walked a sentinel, musket on shoulder; and not far off was the soldier
+who was to replace him. The sergeant of the hospital guard ordered him
+to let me pass, and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a long
+narrow room, with beds to the number of twenty-two arranged against the
+walls. Three or four of them were still unoccupied. These wooden beds
+were painted green, and, as is notoriously the case with all hospital
+beds in Russia, were doubtless inhabited by bugs. I went into a corner
+by the side of the windows. There were very few prisoners dangerously
+ill and confined to their beds.
+
+The inmates of the hospital were, for the most part, convalescents, or
+men who were slightly indisposed. My new companions were stretched out
+on their couches, or walking about up and down between the rows of beds.
+There was just space enough for them to come and go. The atmosphere of
+the ward was stifling with the odour peculiar to hospitals. It was
+composed of various emanations, each more disagreeable than the other,
+and of the smell of drugs; though the stove was kept well heated all day
+long, my bed was covered with a counterpane, which I took off. The bed
+itself consisted of a cloth blanket lined with linen, and coarse sheets
+of more than doubtful cleanliness. By the side of the bed was a little
+table with a pitcher and a pewter mug, together with a diminutive
+napkin, which had been given to me. The table could, moreover, hold a
+tea-urn for those patients who were rich enough to drink tea. These men
+of means, however, were not very numerous. The pipes and the tobacco
+pouches--for all the patients smoked, even the consumptive ones--could
+be concealed beneath the mattress. The doctors and the other officials
+scarcely ever made searches, and when they surprised a patient with a
+pipe in his mouth, they pretended not to see. The patients, however,
+were very prudent, and smoked always at the back of the stove. They
+never smoked in their beds except at night, when no rounds were made by
+the officers commanding the hospital.
+
+Until then I had not been in any hospital in the character of patient,
+so that everything was quite new to me. I noticed that my entry had
+mystified some of the prisoners. They had heard of me, and all the
+inmates now looked upon me with that slight shade of superiority which
+recognised members of no matter what society show to one newly admitted
+among them. On my right was lying down a man committed for trial--an
+ex-secretary and the illegitimate son of a retired captain--accused of
+having made false money. He had been in the hospital nearly a year. He
+was not in the least ill, but he assured the doctors that he had an
+aneurism, and he so thoroughly convinced them that he escaped both the
+hard labour and the corporal punishment to which he had been sentenced.
+He was sent a year later to T----k, where he was attached to an asylum.
+He was a vigorous young fellow of eight-and-twenty, cunning, a
+self-confessed rogue, and something of a lawyer. He was intelligent, had
+easy manners, but was very presumptuous, and suffered from morbid
+self-esteem. Convinced that there was no one in the world a bit more
+honest or more just than himself, he did not consider himself at all
+guilty, and never kept this assurance to himself.
+
+This personage was the first to address me, and he questioned me with
+much curiosity. He initiated me into the ways of the hospital; and, of
+course, began by telling me that he was the son of a captain. He was
+very anxious that I should take him for a noble, or at least, for some
+one connected with the nobility.
+
+Soon afterwards an invalid from the Disciplinary Company came and told
+me that he knew a great many nobles who had been exiled; and, to
+convince me, he repeated to me their christian names and their
+patronymics. It was only necessary to see the face of this soldier to
+understand that he was lying abominably. He was named Tchekounoff, and
+came to pay court to me, because he suspected me of having money. When
+he saw a packet of tea and sugar, he at once offered me his services to
+make the water boil and to get me a tea-urn. M. D. S. K---- had promised
+to send me my own by one of the prisoners who worked in the hospital,
+but Tchekounoff arranged to get me one forthwith. He got me a tin
+vessel, in which he made the water boil; and, in a word, he showed such
+extraordinary zeal, that it drew down upon him bitter laughter from one
+of the patients, a consumptive man, whose bed was just opposite mine,
+Usteantseff by name. This was the soldier condemned to the rods, who,
+from fear, had swallowed a bottle of vodka, in which he had infused
+tobacco, this bringing on lung disease.
+
+I have spoken of him above. He had remained silent until now, stretched
+out on his bed, and breathing with difficulty. He looked at me all the
+time with a very serious air. He did not take his eyes from Tchekounoff,
+whose civility irritated him. His extraordinary gravity rendered his
+indignation comic. At last he could stand it no longer.
+
+"Look at this fellow! He has found his master," he said, stammering out
+the words with a voice strangled by weakness, for he had now not long to
+live.
+
+Tchekounoff, much annoyed, turned round.
+
+"Who is the fellow?" he asked, looking at Usteantseff, with contempt.
+
+"Why, you are a flunkey," replied Usteantseff, as confidently as if he
+had possessed the right of calling Tchekounoff to order.
+
+"I a fellow?"
+
+"Yes, you are a flunkey; a true flunkey. Listen, my good friends. He
+won't believe me. He is quite astonished, the brave fellow."
+
+"What can that matter to you? You see when they don't know how to make
+use of their hands that they are not accustomed to be without servants.
+Why should I not serve him, buffoon with a hairy snout?"
+
+"Who has a hairy snout?"
+
+"You!"
+
+"I have a hairy snout?"
+
+"Yes; certainly you have."
+
+"You are a nice fellow, you are. If I have a hairy snout, you have a
+face like a crow's egg."
+
+"Hairy snout! The merciful Lord has settled your account. You would do
+much better to keep quiet and die."
+
+"Why? I would rather prostrate myself before a boot than before a
+slipper. My father never prostrated himself, and never made me do so."
+
+He would have continued, but an attack of coughing convulsed him for
+some minutes. He spat blood, and a cold sweat broke out on his low
+forehead. If his cough had not prevented him from speaking, he would
+have continued to declaim. One could see that from his look; but in his
+powerlessness he could only move his hand, the result of which was that
+Tchekounoff spoke no more about the matter.
+
+I quite understood that the consumptive patient hated me much more than
+Tchekounoff. No one would have thought of being angry with him or of
+looking down upon him by reason of the services he was rendering me, and
+the few kopecks that he tried to get from me. Every one understood that
+he did it all in order to get himself a little money.
+
+The Russian people are not at all susceptible on such points, and know
+perfectly well how to take them.
+
+I had displeased Usteantseff, as my tea had also displeased him. What
+irritated him was that, in spite of all, I was a gentleman, even with my
+chains; that I could not do without a servant, though I neither asked
+for nor desired one. In reality I tried to do everything for myself, in
+order not to appear a white-handed, effeminate person, and not to play
+the part which excited so much envy.
+
+I even felt a little pride on this point; but, in spite of every
+thing--I do not know why--I was always surrounded by officious,
+complaisant people, who attached themselves to me of their own free
+will, and who ended by governing me. It was I rather who was their
+servant; so that, whether I liked it or not, I was made to appear to
+every one a noble, who could not do without the services of others, and
+who gave himself airs. This exasperated me.
+
+Usteantseff was consumptive, and, therefore, irascible. The other
+patients only showed me indifference, tinged with a shade of contempt.
+They were occupied with a circumstance which now presents itself to my
+memory.
+
+I learned, as I listened to their conversation, that there was to be
+brought into the hospital that evening a convict who, at that moment,
+was receiving the rods. The prisoners were looking forward to this new
+arrival with some curiosity. They said, however, that his punishment was
+but slight--only five hundred strokes.
+
+I looked round. The greater number of genuine patients were, as far as I
+could observe, affected by scurvy and diseases of the eyes--both
+peculiar to this country. The others suffered from fever, lung disease,
+and other illnesses. The different illnesses were not separated; all the
+patients were together in the same room.
+
+I have spoken of genuine patients, for certain convicts had come in
+merely to get a little rest. The doctors admitted them from pure
+compassion, above all, if there were any vacant beds. Life in the
+guard-house and in the prison was so hard compared with that of the
+hospital, that many persons preferred to remain lying down in spite of
+the stifling atmosphere and the rules against leaving the room.
+
+There were even men who took pleasure in this kind of life. They
+belonged nearly all to the Disciplinary Company. I examined my new
+companions with curiosity. One of them puzzled me very much. He was
+consumptive, and was dying. His bed was a little further on than that of
+Usteantseff, and was nearly beside mine. He was named Mikhailoff. I had
+seen him in the Convict Prison two weeks before, when he was already
+seriously ill. He ought to have been under treatment long before, but
+he bore up against his malady with surprising courage. He did not go to
+the hospital until about the Christmas holidays, to die three weeks
+afterwards of galloping consumption. He seemed to have burned out like a
+candle. What astonished me most was the terrible change in his
+countenance. I had noticed him the very first day of my imprisonment. By
+his side was lying a soldier of the Disciplinary Company--an old man
+with a bad expression on his face, whose general appearance was
+disgusting.
+
+But I am not going to enumerate all the patients. I just remember this
+old man simply because he made an impression on me, and initiated me at
+once into certain peculiarities of the ward. He had a severe cold in the
+head, which made him sneeze at every moment, even during his sleep, as
+if firing salutes, five or six times running, while each time he called
+out, "My God, what torture!"
+
+Seated on his bed he stuffed his nose eagerly with snuff, which he took
+from a paper bag, in order to sneeze more strongly, and with greater
+regularity. He sneezed into a checked cotton pocket-handkerchief which
+belonged to him, and which had lost its colour through perpetual
+washing. His little nose then became wrinkled in a most peculiar manner
+with a multitude of wrinkles, and his open mouth exhibited broken teeth,
+decayed and black, and red gums moist with saliva. When he sneezed into
+his handkerchief he unfolded it and wiped it on the lining of his
+dressing-gown. His proceedings disgusted me so much that involuntarily I
+examined the dressing-gown I had just put on myself. It exhaled a most
+offensive odour, which contact with my body helped to bring out. It
+smelt of plasters and medicaments of all kinds. It seemed as though it
+had been worn by patients from time immemorial. The lining had, perhaps,
+been washed once, but I would not swear to it. Certainly, at the time I
+put it on, it was saturated with lotions, and stained by contact with
+poultices and plasters of all imaginable kinds.
+
+The men condemned to the rods, having undergone their punishment, were
+brought straight to the hospital, their backs still bleeding. As
+compresses and as poultices were placed on their wounds, the
+dressing-gown they wore over their wet shirt received and retained the
+droppings.
+
+During all the time of my hard labour I had to go to the hospital, which
+often happened, I always put on, with mistrust and abhorrence, the
+dressing-gown that was delivered to me. As soon as Tchekounoff had given
+me my tea (I will say, in parenthesis, that the water brought in in the
+morning, and not renewed throughout the day, was soon corrupted, soon
+poisoned by the fetid air), the door opened, and the soldier, who had
+just received the rods, was brought in under a double escort. I saw, for
+the first time, a man who had just been whipped. Later on many were
+brought in, and whenever this happened it caused great distress to the
+patients. These unfortunate men were received with grave composure, but
+the nature of the reception depended nearly always on the enormity of
+the crime committed, and, consequently, the number of strokes
+administered.
+
+The criminals most cruelly whipped, and who were celebrated as brigands
+of the first order, enjoyed more respect and attention than a simple
+deserter, a recruit, like the one who had just been brought in. But in
+neither case was any particular sympathy manifested, nor were any
+annoying remarks made. The unhappy man was attended to in silence, above
+all if he was incapable of attending to himself. The assistant-surgeons
+knew that they were entrusting their patients to skilful and experienced
+hands. The usual treatment consisted in applying very often to the back
+of the man who had been whipped a shirt or a piece of linen steeped in
+cold water. It was also necessary to withdraw skilfully from the wounds
+the twigs left by the rods which had been broken on the criminal's back.
+This last operation was particularly painful to the patients. The
+extraordinary stoicism with which they supported their sufferings
+astonished me greatly.
+
+I have seen many convicts who had been whipped, and cruelly, I can tell
+you. Well, I do not remember one of them uttering a groan. Only after
+such an experience, the countenance becomes pale, decomposed, the eyes
+glitter, the look wanders, and the lips tremble so that the patient
+sometimes bites them till they bleed.
+
+The soldier who had just come in was twenty-three years of age; he had a
+good muscular development, and was rather a fine man, tall, well-made,
+with a bronzed skin. His back, uncovered down to the waist, had been
+seriously beaten, and his body now trembled with fever beneath the damp
+sheet with which his back was covered. For about an hour and a half he
+did nothing but walk backwards and forwards in the room. I looked at his
+face: he seemed to be thinking of nothing; his eyes had a strange
+expression, at once wild and timid; they seemed to fix themselves with
+difficulty on the various objects. I fancied I saw him looking
+attentively at my hot tea; the steam was rising from the full cup, and
+the poor devil was shivering and clattering his teeth. I invited him to
+have some; he turned towards me without saying a word, and taking up the
+cup, swallowed the tea at one gulp, without putting sugar in it. He
+tried not to look at me, and when he had finished he put the cup back in
+silence without making a sign, and then began to walk up and down as
+before. He was in too much pain to think of speaking to me or thanking
+me. As for the other prisoners, they abstained from questioning him;
+when once they had applied compresses they paid no more attention to
+him, thinking probably it would be better to leave him alone, and not to
+worry him by their questions and compassion. The soldier seemed quite
+satisfied with this view.
+
+Meanwhile, night came on and the lamp was lighted; some of the patients
+possessed candlesticks of their own, but these were not numerous. In the
+evening the doctor came round, after which a non-commissioned officer on
+guard counted the patients and closed the room.
+
+The prisoners could not speak in too high terms of their doctors. They
+looked upon them truly as fathers and respected them. These doctors had
+always something pleasant to say, a kind word even for reprobates, who
+appreciated it all the more because they knew it was said in all
+sincerity.
+
+Yes, these kind words were really sincere, for no one would have thought
+of blaming the doctors had they shown themselves cross and inhuman; they
+were kind purely from humanity. They understood perfectly that a convict
+who is sick has as much right to breathe pure air as any other person,
+even though the latter might be a great personage. The convalescents
+there had a right to walk freely through the corridors to take exercise,
+and to breathe air less pestilential than that of our infirmary, which
+was close and saturated with deleterious emanations. In our ward, when
+once the doors had been closed in the evening, they had to remain closed
+throughout the night, and under no pretext was one of the inmates
+allowed to go out.
+
+For many years an inexplicable fact troubled me like an insoluble
+problem. I must speak of it before going on with my description. I am
+thinking of the chains which every convict is obliged to wear, however
+ill he may be; even consumptives have died beneath my eyes with their
+legs loaded with irons.
+
+Everybody was accustomed to it, and regarded it as an inevitable fact. I
+do not think any one, even the doctors, would have thought of demanding
+the removal of the irons from convicts who were seriously ill, not even
+from the consumptive ones. The chains, it is true, were not exceedingly
+heavy; they did not in general weigh more than eight or ten pounds,
+which is a supportable burden for a man in good health. I have been
+told, however, that after some years the legs of the convicts dry up and
+waste away. I do not know whether it is true. I am inclined to think it
+is; the weight, however light it may be (say not more than ten pounds),
+if it is fixed to the leg for ever, increases the general weight in an
+abnormal manner, and at the end of a certain time must have a disastrous
+effect on its development.
+
+For a convict in good health this is nothing, but the same cannot be
+said of one who is sick. For the convicts who were seriously ill, for
+the consumptive ones whose arms and legs dry up of themselves, this last
+straw is insupportable. Even if the medical authorities claimed
+alleviation for the consumptive patients alone, it would be an immense
+benefit, I assure you. I shall be told convicts are malefactors,
+unworthy of compassion; but ought increased severity to be shown towards
+him on whom the finger of God already weighs? No one will believe that
+the object of this aggravation is to reform the criminal. The
+consumptive prisoners are exempted from corporal punishment by the
+tribunal.
+
+There must be some mysterious, important reason for all this, but what
+it is, it is impossible to understand. No one believes--it is impossible
+to believe--that a consumptive man will run away. Who can think of such
+a thing, especially if the illness has reached a certain degree of
+intensity? It is impossible to deceive the doctors and make them mistake
+a convict in good health for one who is in a consumption, for this
+malady is one that can be recognised at the first glance. Moreover, can
+the irons prevent the convict not in good health from escaping? Not in
+the least. The irons are a degradation and shame, a physical and moral
+burden; but they would not hinder any one attempting to escape. The most
+awkward and least intelligent convict can saw through them, or break the
+rivets by hammering at them with a stone. Chains, then, are a useless
+precaution; and if the convicts wear them as a punishment, should not
+this punishment be spared to dying men?
+
+As I write these lines, a face stands out from my memory: that of a
+dying man, a man who died in consumption, this same Mikhailoff, whose
+bed was nearly opposite me, and who expired, I think, four days after my
+arrival at the hospital. When I spoke above of the consumptive patients,
+I was only reproducing involuntarily the sensations and ideas which
+occurred to me on the occasion of this death. I knew Mikhailoff very
+little; he was a young man of twenty-five at most, not very tall, thin,
+and with a fine face; he belonged to the "special section," and was
+remarkable for his strange, but soft and sad taciturnity; he seemed to
+have "dried up" in the convict prison, to use an expression employed by
+the convicts who had a good recollection of him. I remember he had very
+fine eyes. I really cannot tell why I think of that.
+
+He died at three o'clock in the afternoon on a clear, dry day. The sun
+was darting its brilliant rays obliquely through the greenish, frozen
+panes of our room. A torrent of light inundated the unhappy patient, who
+had lost all consciousness, and was several hours dying. From the early
+morning his sight became confused; he was unable to recognise those who
+approached him. The convicts would gladly have done anything to relieve
+him, for they saw he was in great suffering. His respiration was
+painful, deep, and irregular; his breast rose and fell violently, as
+though he were in want of air; he cast his blanket and his clothes far
+from him. Then he began to tear up his shirt, which seemed to him a
+terrible burden. It was taken off. Then it was frightful to see this
+immensely long body, with fleshless arms and legs, with beating breast,
+and ribs which were as clearly marked as those of a skeleton. There was
+nothing now on this skeleton but a cross and the irons, from which his
+dried-up legs might easily have freed themselves. A quarter of an hour
+before his death everything was silent in our ward, and the inmates
+spoke only in whispers. The convicts walked on the tips of their toes.
+From time to time they exchanged remarks on other subjects, and cast a
+furtive glance at the dying man. The rattling in his throat grew more
+and more painful. At last, with a trembling hand, he felt the cross on
+his breast and endeavoured to tear it off; it was also weighing upon
+him, suffocating him. It was taken off. Ten minutes afterwards, he died.
+Some one then knocked at the door in order to give notice to the
+sentinel; the warder entered, looked at the dead man with a vacant air,
+and went away to get the assistant-surgeon. The assistant-surgeon was a
+good fellow enough, but a little too much occupied with his personal
+appearance, otherwise very agreeable; he soon arrived, went up to the
+corpse with long strides which made a noise in the silent ward, and
+felt the dead man's pulse with an unconcerned air which seemed to have
+been put on for the occasion. He then made a vague gesture with his hand
+and went out.
+
+Information was given at the guard-house; for the criminal was an
+important one (he belonged to the special section), and in order to
+register his death it was necessary to go through some formalities.
+While we were waiting for the hospital guard to come, one of the
+prisoners said in a whisper, "The eyes of the defunct might as well be
+closed." Another one profited by this remark, and approaching Mikhailoff
+in silence, closed his eyes; then perceiving on the pillow the cross
+which had been taken from his neck, he took it and looked at it, put it
+down, and crossed himself. The face of the dead man was becoming
+ossified; a ray of white light was playing on the surface and
+illuminated two rows of white, good teeth which sparkled between his
+thin lips, glued to the gums by the mouth.
+
+The non-commissioned officer on guard arrived at last, musket on
+shoulder, helmet on head, accompanied by two soldiers; he approached the
+corpse, slackening his pace with an air of uncertainty. Then he examined
+with a side glance the silent prisoners, who looked at him with a sombre
+expression. At one step from the dead man he stopped short, as if
+suddenly nailed to the spot; the naked, dried-up body, loaded with
+irons, had impressed him; he undid his chin-strap, removed his helmet
+(which was not at all necessary for him to do), and made the sign of the
+cross; he had a gray head, the head of a soldier who had seen much
+service. I remember that by his side stood Tchekounoff, an old man who
+was also gray. He looked all the time at the non-commissioned officer,
+and followed all his movements with strange attention. They glanced
+across, and I saw that Tchekounoff also trembled. He bit and closed his
+teeth, and said to the non-commissioned officer, as if involuntarily, at
+the same time nodding his head in the direction of the dead man, "He had
+a mother, too!"
+
+These words went to my heart. Why had he said them? and how did this
+idea occur to him? The corpse was raised with the mattress; the straw
+creaked, the chains dragged along the ground with a sharp ring; they
+were taken up and the body was carried out. Suddenly all spoke once more
+in a loud voice. The non-commissioned officer in the corridor could well
+be heard crying out to some one to go for the blacksmith. It was
+necessary to take the dead man's irons off. But I have digressed from my
+subject.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE HOSPITAL (_continued_).
+
+
+The doctors used to visit the wards in the morning, towards eleven
+o'clock; they appeared all together, forming a procession, which was
+headed by the chief physician. An hour and a half before, the ordinary
+physician had made his round. He was a quiet young man, always affable
+and kind, much liked by the prisoners, and thoroughly versed in his art;
+they only found one fault with him, that he was "too soft." He was, in
+fact, by no means communicative, he seemed confused in our presence,
+blushed sometimes, and changed the quantity of food at the first
+representation of the patient. I think he would have consented to give
+them any medicine they desired: in other respects an excellent young
+man.
+
+A doctor in Russia often enjoys the affection and respect of the people,
+and with reason, as far as I have been able to see. I know that my words
+would seem a paradox, above all when the mistrust of this same people
+for foreign drugs and foreign doctors is taken into account; in fact,
+they prefer, even when suffering from a serious illness, to address
+themselves year after year to a witch, or employ old women's remedies
+(which, however, ought not to be despised), rather than consult a
+doctor, or go into the hospital. In truth, these prejudices may be
+above all attributed to causes which have nothing to do with medicine,
+namely, the mistrust of the people for anything which bears an official
+and administrative character; nor must it be forgotten that the common
+people are frightened and prejudiced in regard to the hospitals, by the
+stories, often absurd, of fantastic horrors said to take place within
+them. Perhaps, however, these stories have a basis of truth.
+
+But what repels them above all, is the Germanism of the hospitals, the
+idea that during their illness they will be attended to by foreigners,
+the severity of the diet, the heartlessness of the surgeons and doctors,
+the dissection and autopsy of the bodies, etc. The common people
+reflect, moreover, that they will be attended by nobles--for in their
+view the doctors belong to the nobility. Once they have made
+acquaintance with them (there are exceptions, no doubt, but they are
+rare), their fears vanish. This success must be attributed to our
+doctors, especially the young ones, who, for the most part, know how to
+gain the respect and affection of the people. I speak now of what I
+myself have seen and experienced in many cases and in different parts,
+and I think matters are the same everywhere. In some distant localities
+the doctors receive presents, make profit out of their hospitals, and
+neglect the patients; sometimes they forget even their art. This
+happens, no doubt; but I am speaking of the majority, inspired as it is
+by that spirit, that generous tendency which is regenerating the medical
+art. As for the apostates, the wolves in the sheep-fold, they may excuse
+themselves, and cast the blame on the circumstances amid which they
+live; but they are absurd, inexcusable, especially if they are no longer
+humane; it is precisely the humanity, affability, and brotherly
+compassion of the doctor which prove most efficacious remedies for the
+patients. It is time to stop these apathetic lamentations on the
+circumstances surrounding us. There may be truth in the lament, but a
+cunning rogue who knows how to take care of himself never fails to
+blame the circumstances around him when he wishes his faults to be
+forgiven--above all, if he writes or speaks with eloquence.
+
+I have again departed from my subject; I wish only to say that the
+common people mistrust and dislike officialism and the Government
+doctors, rather than the doctors themselves; but on personal
+acquaintance many prejudices disappear.
+
+Our doctor generally stopped before the bed of each patient, questioned
+him seriously and attentively, then prescribed the remedies, potions,
+etc. He sometimes noticed that the pretended invalid was not ill at all;
+he had come to take rest after his hard work, and to sleep on a mattress
+in a warm room, far preferable to the naked planks in a damp guard-house
+among a mass of pale, broken-down men, waiting for their trial. In
+Russia the prisoners in the House of Detention are almost always broken
+down, which shows that their moral and material condition is worse even
+than those of the convicts.
+
+In cases of feigned sickness our doctor would describe the patient as
+suffering from _febris catharalis_, and sometimes allowed him to remain
+a week in the hospital. Every one laughed at this _febris catharalis_,
+for it was known to be a formula agreed upon between the doctor and the
+patient to indicate no malady at all. Often the robust invalid who
+abused the doctor's compassion remained in the hospital until he was
+turned out by force. Our doctor was worth seeing then. Confused by the
+prisoner's obstinacy, he did not like to tell him plainly that he was
+cured and offer him his leaving ticket, although he had the right to
+send him away without the least explanation on writing the words,
+_sanat. est_. First he would hint to him that it was time to go, and
+then would beg him to leave.
+
+"You must go, you know you are cured now, and we have no place for you,
+we are very much cramped here, etc."
+
+At last, ashamed to remain any longer, the patient would consent to go.
+The physician-in-chief, although compassionate and just (the patients
+were much attached to him), was incomparably more severe and more
+decided than our ordinary physician. In certain cases he showed
+merciless severity which only gained for him the respect of the
+convicts. He always came into the room accompanied by all the doctors of
+the hospital, when his assistants visited all the beds and diagnosed on
+each particular case; he stopped longest at the beds of those who were
+seriously ill, and had an encouraging word for them. He never sent back
+the convicts who arrived with _febris catharalis_; but if one of them
+was determined to remain in the hospital, he certified that the man was
+cured. "Come," he would say, "you have had your rest; now go, you must
+not take liberties."
+
+Those who insisted upon remaining, were, above all, the convicts who
+were worn out by field labour, performed during the great summer heat,
+or prisoners who had been sentenced to be whipped. I remember that they
+were obliged to be particularly severe, merely in order to get rid of
+one of them. He had come to be cured of some disease of the eyes, which
+were red all over; he complained of suffering a sharp pain in the
+eyelids. He was incurable; plasters, blisters, leeches, nothing did him
+any good; and the diseased organ remained in the same condition.
+
+Then it occurred to the doctors that the illness was feigned, for the
+inflammation neither became worse nor better; and they soon understood
+that a comedy was being played, although the patient would not admit it.
+He was a fine young fellow, not ill-looking, though he produced a
+disagreeable impression upon all his companions; he was suspicious,
+sombre, full of dissimulation, and never looked any one straight in the
+face; he also kept himself apart as if he mistrusted us all. I remember
+that many persons were afraid that he would do some one harm.
+
+When he was a soldier he had committed some small theft, he had been
+arrested and condemned to receive a thousand strokes, and afterwards to
+pass into a disciplinary company.
+
+To put off the moment of punishment, the prisoners, as I have already
+said, will do incredible things. On the eve of the fatal day, they will
+stick a knife into one of their chiefs, or into a comrade, in order that
+they may be tried again for this new offence, which will delay their
+punishment for a month or two. It matters little to them that their
+punishment be doubled or tripled, if they can escape this time. What
+they desire is to put off temporarily the terrible minute at whatever
+cost, so utterly does their heart fail them.
+
+Many of the patients thought the man with the sore eyes ought to be
+watched, lest in his despair he should assassinate some one during the
+night; but no precaution was taken, not even by those who slept next to
+him. It was remarked, however, that he rubbed his eyes with plaster from
+the wall, and with something else besides, in order that they might
+appear red when the doctor came round; at last the doctor-in-chief
+threatened to cure him by-means of a seton.
+
+When the malady resists all ordinary treatment, the doctors determine to
+try some heroic, however painful, remedy. But the poor devil did not
+wish to get well, he was either too obstinate or too cowardly; for,
+however painful the proposed operation may be, it cannot be compared to
+the punishment of the rods.
+
+The operation consists in seizing the patient by the nape of the neck,
+taking up the skin, drawing it back as much as possible, and making in
+it a double incision, through which is passed a skein of cotton about as
+thick as the finger. Every day at a fixed hour this skein is pulled
+backwards and forwards in order that the wound may continually suppurate
+and may not heal; the poor devil endured this torture which caused him
+horrible suffering, for several days.
+
+At last he consented to quit the hospital. In less than a day his eyes
+became quite well; and, as soon as his neck was healed, he was sent to
+the guard-house which he left next day to receive the first thousand
+strokes.
+
+Painful is the minute which precedes such a punishment; so painful, that
+perhaps I am wrong in taxing with cowardice those convicts who fear it.
+
+It must be terrible; for the convicts to risk a double or triple
+punishment, merely to postpone it. I have spoken, however, of convicts
+who have thus wished to quit the hospital before the wounds caused by
+the first part of the flogging were healed, in order to receive the last
+part and make an end of it. For life in a guard-room is certainly worse
+than in a convict prison.
+
+The habit of receiving floggings helps in some cases to give intrepidity
+and decision to convicts. Those who have been often flogged, are
+hardened both in body and mind, and have at last looked upon such a
+punishment as merely a disagreeable incident no longer to be feared.
+
+One of our convicts of the special section was a converted Tartar, who
+was named Alexander, or Alexandrina, as they called him in fun at the
+convict prison; who told me how he had received 4,000 strokes. He never
+spoke of this punishment except with amusement and laughter; but he
+swore very seriously that if he had not been brought up in his horde,
+from his most tender infancy, on whipping and flogging--and as the scars
+which covered his back, and which refused to disappear, were there to
+testify--he would never have been able to support those 4,000 strokes.
+He blessed the education of sticks that he had received.
+
+"I was beaten for the least thing, Alexander Petrovitch," he said one
+evening, when we were sitting down before the fire. "I was beaten
+without reason for fifteen years, as long as I can ever remember, and
+several times a day. Any one who liked beat me; so that, at last, it
+made no impression upon me."
+
+I do not know how it was he became a soldier, for perhaps he lied, and
+had always been a deserter and vagabond. But I remember his telling me
+one day of the fright he was seized with when he was condemned to
+receive 4,000 strokes for having killed one of his officers.
+
+"I know that they will punish me severely," he said to himself, "that,
+accustomed as I am to be whipped, I shall perhaps die on the spot. The
+devil! 4,000 strokes is not a trifle; and then all my officers were in a
+fearful temper with me on account of this affair. I knew well that it
+would not be 'rose-water.' I even believed that I should die under the
+rods. I determined to get baptized. I said to myself, that perhaps they
+would not then flog me, at any rate it was worth trying, my comrades had
+told me that it would be of no good. But,' I said to myself, 'who knows?
+perhaps they will pardon me, they will have more compassion on a
+Christian than on a Mohammedan. They baptized me, and give me the name
+of Alexander; but, in spite of that, I had to take my flogging; they did
+not let me off a single stroke; I was, however, very savage. 'Wait a
+bit,' I said to myself, 'and I will take you all in'; and, would you
+believe it, Alexander? I did take them all in. I knew how to look like a
+dead man; not that I appeared altogether without life, but I looked as
+if I were on the point of breathing my last. They led me in front of the
+battalion to receive my first thousand; my skin was burning, I began to
+howl. They gave me my second thousand, and I said to myself, 'It's all
+over now.' I had lost my head, my legs seemed broken, so I fell to the
+ground, with the eyes of a dead man. My face blue, my mouth full of
+froth, I no longer breathed. When the doctor came he said I was on the
+point of death. I was carried to the hospital, and at once returned to
+life. Twice again they flogged me. What a rage they were in! I took them
+all in on each occasion. I received my third thousand, and died again.
+On my word, when they gave me the last thousand each stroke ought to
+have counted for three, it was like a knife in my heart. Oh, how they
+did beat me! They were so severe with me. Oh, that cursed fourth
+thousand! it was well worth three firsts put together. If I had
+pretended to be dead when I had still 200 to receive, I think they would
+have finished me; but they did not get the better of me. I had them
+again and again, for they always thought it was all over with me, and
+how could they have thought otherwise? The doctor was sure of it. But as
+for the 200 which I had still to receive, they might have struck as hard
+as they liked--they were worth 2,000; I only laughed at them. Why?
+Because, when I was a youngster, I had grown up under the whip. Well, I
+am well, and alive now; but I have been beaten in the course of my
+life," he repeated, with a passive air, as he brought his story to an
+end. As he did so, he seemed to recollect and count anew the blows he
+had received.
+
+After a brief silence, he said: "I cannot count them, nor can any one
+else; there are not figures enough." He looked at me, and burst into a
+laugh, so simple and natural, that I could not help smiling in return.
+
+"Do you know, Alexander Petrovitch, when I dream at night, I always
+dream that I am being flogged. I dream of nothing else." He, in fact,
+talked in his sleep, and woke up the other prisoners.
+
+"What are you yelling about, you demon?" they would say to him.
+
+This strong, robust fellow, short in stature, about forty-four years of
+age, active, good-looking, lived on good terms with every one, though he
+was very fond of taking what did not belong to him, and afterwards got
+beaten for it. But each of our convicts who stole got beaten for their
+thefts.
+
+I will add to these remarks that I was always surprised at the
+extraordinary good-nature, the absence of rancour with which these
+unhappy men spoke of their punishment, and of the chiefs superintending
+it. In these stories, which often gave me palpitation of the heart, not
+a shadow of hatred or rancour could be detected; they laughed at what
+they had suffered like children.
+
+It was not the same, however, with M--tcki, when he told me of his
+punishment. As he was not a noble, he had been sentenced to be flogged.
+He had never spoken to me of it, and when I asked him if it were true,
+he replied affirmatively in two brief words, but with evident suffering,
+and without looking at me. He at the same time turned red, and when he
+raised his eyes, I saw flames burning in them, while his lips trembled
+with indignation. I felt that he would not forget, that he could never
+forget this page of his history. Our companions generally on the other
+hand (though theirs might have been exceptions), looked upon their
+adventures with quite another eye. It is impossible, I sometimes
+thought, that they can be conscious of their guilt, and not acknowledge
+the justice of their punishment; above all, when their offences were
+against their companions and not against some chief. The greater part of
+them did not acknowledge their guilt. I have already said that I never
+observed in them the least remorse, even when the crime had been
+committed against people of their own station. As for the crimes
+committed against a chief, they did not even speak of them. It seems to
+me that for those cases, they had special views of their own. They
+looked upon them as accidents caused by destiny, by fatality, into which
+they had fallen unconsciously as the result of some extraordinary
+impulse. The convict always justifies the crimes he has committed
+against his chief; he does not trouble himself about the matter. But he
+admits that the chief cannot share his view, and consequently, that he
+must naturally be punished, and then he will be quits with him.
+
+The struggle between the administration and the prisoner is of the
+severest character on both sides. What in a great measure justifies the
+criminal in his own eyes, is his conviction that the people among whom
+he has been born and has lived will acquit him. He is certain that the
+common people will not look upon him as a lost man, unless, indeed, his
+crime has bean committed against persons of his own class, against his
+brethren. He is quite calm about that; supported by his conscience, he
+will not lose his moral tranquillity, and that is the principal thing.
+He feels himself on firm ground, and has no particular hatred for the
+knout, when once it has been administered to him. He knows that it was
+inevitable, and consoles himself by thinking that he was neither the
+first nor the last to receive it. Does the soldier detest the Turk whom
+he fights? Not in the least! yet he sabres him, hacks him to pieces,
+kills him.
+
+It must not be thought, moreover, that all of these stories were told
+with indifference and in cold blood.
+
+When the name of Jerebiatnikof was mentioned, it was always with
+indignation. I made the acquaintance of this officer during my first
+stay in the hospital--only by the convicts' stories, it must be
+understood. I afterwards saw him one day when he was commanding the
+guard at the convict prison; he was about thirty years old, very stout
+and very strong, with red cheeks hanging down on each side, white teeth,
+and a formidable laugh. One could see in a moment that he was in no way
+given to reflection. He took the greatest pleasure in whipping and
+flogging, when he had to superintend the punishment. I must hasten to
+say that the other officers looked upon Jerebiatnikof as a monster, and
+the convicts did the same. This was in the good old time, which is not
+very very far off, but in which it is already difficult to believe
+executioners delighted in their office. But, generally speaking, the
+strokes were administered without enthusiasm.
+
+This lieutenant was an exception, and he took a real pleasure and
+delight in punishment. He had a passion for it, and liked it for its own
+sake; he looked to this art for unnatural delights in order to tickle
+and excite his base soul. A prisoner is conducted to the place of
+punishment. Jerebiatnikof is the officer superintending the execution.
+Arranging a long line of soldiers, armed with heavy rods, he walks along
+the front with a satisfied air, and encourages each one to do his duty,
+conscientiously or otherwise--the soldiers know before what "otherwise"
+means. The criminal is brought out. If he does not yet know
+Jerebiatnikof, if he is not in the secret of the mystery, the Lieutenant
+plays him the following trick--one of the inventions of Jerebiatnikof,
+very ingenious in this style of thing. The prisoner, whose back has been
+bared, and whom the non-commissioned officers have fastened to the butt
+end of a musket in order to drag him afterwards through the whole length
+of the "Green Street." He begs the officer in charge, with a plaintive
+and tearful voice, not to have him struck too hard, not to double the
+punishment by any undue severity.
+
+"Your nobility!" cries the unhappy wretch, "have pity on me, treat me
+fraternally, so that I may pray God throughout my life for you. Do not
+destroy me, show mercy!"
+
+Jerebiatnikof had waited for this. He now suspended the execution, and
+engaged the prisoner in conversation, speaking to him in a sentimental,
+compassionate tone.
+
+"But, my good fellow," he would say, "what am I to do? It is the law
+that punishes you--it is the law."
+
+"Your nobility! You can make it everything; have pity upon me."
+
+"Do you really think that I have no pity on you? Do you think it is any
+pleasure to me to see you whipped? I am a man, am I not? Answer me, am I
+not a man?"
+
+"Certainly, your nobility. We know that the officers are our fathers and
+we their children. Be to me a venerable father," the prisoner would cry,
+seeing some possibility of escaping punishment.
+
+"Then, my friend, judge for yourself. You have a brain to think with,
+you know I am human, I ought to take compassion on you, sinner though
+you be."
+
+"Your nobility says the absolute truth."
+
+"Yes, I ought to be merciful to you however guilty you may be. But it
+is not I who punish you, it is the law. I serve God and my country, and
+consequently I commit a grave sin if I mitigate the punishment fixed by
+the law. Only think of that!"
+
+"Your nobility!"
+
+"Well, what am I to do? Only think, I know that I am doing wrong, but it
+shall be as you wish; I will have mercy upon you, you shall be punished
+lightly. But if I really do this on one occasion, if I show mercy, if I
+punish you lightly, you will think that at another time I shall be
+merciful, and you will recommence your follies. What do you say to
+that?"
+
+"Your nobility, preserve me! Before the throne of the heavenly Creator,
+I----"
+
+"No, no; you swear that you will behave yourself."
+
+"May the Lord cause me to die this moment and in the next world."
+
+"Do not swear in that way, it is a sin; I shall believe you if you will
+give me your word."
+
+"Your nobility."
+
+"Well, listen, I will have mercy on you on account of your tears, your
+orphan's tears, for you are an orphan, are you not?"
+
+"Orphan on both sides, your nobility, I am alone in the world."
+
+"Well, on account of your orphan's tears I have pity on you," he added,
+in a voice so full of emotion, that the prisoner could not sufficiently
+thank God for having sent him so good an officer.
+
+The procession went out, the drum rolled, the soldiers brandished their
+arms. "Flog him," Jerebiatnikof would roar from the bottom of his lungs,
+"flog him! burn him! skin him alive! Harder! harder! Give it harder to
+this orphan! Give it him, the rogue."
+
+The soldiers lay on the strokes with all their might on the back of the
+unhappy wretch, whose eyes dart fire, and who howls while Jerebiatnikof
+runs after him in front of the line, holding his sides with
+laughter--he puffs and blows so that he can scarcely hold himself
+upright. He is happy. He thinks it droll. From time to time his
+formidable resonant laugh is heard, as he keeps on repeating, "Flog him!
+thrash him! this brigand! this orphan!"
+
+He had composed variation on this motive. The prisoner has been brought
+to undergo his punishment. He begs the lieutenant to have pity on him.
+This time Jerebiatnikof does not play the hypocrite; he is frank with
+the prisoner.
+
+"Look, my dear fellow, I will punish you as you deserve, but I can show
+you one act of mercy. I will not attach you to the butt end of the
+musket, you shall go along in a new style, you have only to run as hard
+as you can along the front, each rod will strike you as a matter of
+course, but it will be over sooner. What do you say to that, will you
+try?"
+
+The prisoner, who has listened, full of mistrust and doubt, says to
+himself: Perhaps this way will not be so bad as the other. If I run with
+all my might, it will not last quite so long, and perhaps all the rods
+will not touch me.
+
+"Well, your nobility, I consent."
+
+"I also consent. Come, mind your business," cries the lieutenant to the
+soldiers. He knew beforehand that not one rod would spare the back of
+the unfortunate wretch; the soldier who failed to hit him would know
+what to expect.
+
+The convict tries to run along the "Green Street," but he does not go
+beyond fifteen men before the rods rain upon his poor spine like hail;
+so that the unfortunate man shrieks out, and falls as if he had been
+struck by a bullet.
+
+"No, your nobility, I prefer to be flogged in the ordinary way," he
+says, managing to get up, pale and frightened. While Jerebiatnikof, who
+knew beforehand how this affair would end, held his sides and burst into
+a laugh.
+
+But I cannot relate all the diversions invented by him, and all that
+was told about him.
+
+My companions also spoke of a Lieutenant Smekaloff, who fulfilled the
+functions of Commandant before the arrival of our present Major. They
+spoke of Jerebiatnikof with indifference, without hatred, but also
+without exalting his high achievements. They did not praise him, they
+simply despised him, whilst at the name of Smekaloff the whole prison
+burst into a chorus of laudation. The Lieutenant was by no means fond of
+administering the rods; there was nothing in him of Jerebiatnikof's
+disposition. How did it happen that the convicts remembered his
+punishments, severe as they were, with sweet satisfaction. How did he
+manage to please them. How did he gain the popularity he certainly
+enjoyed?
+
+Our companions, like Russian people in general, were ready to forget
+their tortures if a kind word was said to them; I speak of the effect
+itself without analysing or examining it. It is not difficult, then, to
+gain the affections of such a people and become popular. Lieutenant
+Smekaloff had gained such popularity, and when the punishments he had
+directed were spoken of, they were always mentioned with a certain
+sympathy.
+
+"He was as kind as a father," the convicts would sometimes say, as, with
+a sigh, they compared him with their present chief, the Major who had
+replaced him.
+
+He was a simple-minded man, and kind in a manner. There are chiefs who
+are naturally kind and merciful, but who are not at all liked and are
+laughed at; whereas, Smekaloff had so managed that all the prisoners had
+a special regard for him; this was due to innate qualities, which those
+who possess them do not understand. Strange thing! There are men who are
+far from being kind, and who have yet the talent of making themselves
+popular; they do not despise the people who are beneath their rule.
+That, I think, is the cause of this popularity. They do not give
+themselves lordly airs; they have no feeling of "caste;" they have a
+certain odour of the people; they are men of birth, and the people at
+once sniff it. They will do anything for such men; they will gladly
+change the mildest and most humane man for a very severe chief, if the
+latter possesses this sort of odour, and especially if the man is also
+genial in his way. Oh! then he is beyond price.
+
+Lieutenant Smekaloff, as I have said, ordered sometimes very severe
+punishments. But he seemed to inflict them in such a way, that the
+prisoners felt no rancour against him. On the contrary, they recalled
+his whipping affairs with laughter; he did not punish frequently, for he
+had no artistic imagination. He had invented only one practical joke, a
+single one which amused him for nearly a year in our convict prison.
+This joke was dear to him, probably, because it was his only one, and it
+was not without humour.
+
+Smekaloff assisted himself at the executions, joking all the time, and
+laughing at the prisoner as he questioned him about the most
+out-of-the-way things, such, for instance, as his private affairs. He
+did this without any bad motive, and simply because he really wished to
+know something about the man's affairs. A chair was brought to him,
+together with the rods which were to be used for chastising the
+prisoner. The Lieutenant sat down and lighted his long pipe; the
+prisoner implored him.
+
+"No, comrade, lie down. What is the matter with you?"
+
+The convict stretched himself on the ground with a sigh.
+
+"Can you read fluently?"
+
+"Of course, your nobility; I am baptized, and I was taught to read when
+I was a child."
+
+"Then read this."
+
+The convict knows beforehand what he is to read, and knows how the
+reading will end, because this joke has been repeated more than thirty
+times; but Smekaloff knows also that the convict is not his dupe any
+more than the soldier who now holds the rods suspended over the back of
+the unhappy victim. The convict begins to read; the soldiers armed with
+the rods await motionless. Smekaloff ceases even to smoke, raises his
+hand, and waits for a word fixed upon beforehand. At the word, which
+from some double meaning might be interpreted as the order to start, the
+Lieutenant raises his hand, and the flogging begins. The officer bursts
+into a laugh, and the soldiers around him also laugh; the man who is
+whipping laughs, and the man who is being whipped also.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE HOSPITAL[4] (_continued_).
+
+
+I have spoken here of punishments and of those who have administered
+them, because I got a very clear idea on the subject during my stay in
+the hospital. Until then I knew of them only by general report. In our
+room were confined all the prisoners from the battalion who were to
+receive the spitzruten [rods], as well as those from the military
+establishment in our town and in the district surrounding it.
+
+During my first few days I looked at all that surrounded me with such
+greedy eyes that these strange manners, these men who had just been
+flogged or were about to be flogged, left upon me a terrible impression.
+I was agitated, frightened.
+
+As I listened to the conversation or narratives of the other prisoners
+on this subject, I put to myself questions which I endeavoured in vain
+to solve. I wished to know all the degrees of the sentences; the
+punishments, and their shades; and to learn the opinion of the convicts
+themselves. I tried to represent to myself the psychological condition
+of the men flogged.
+
+It rarely happened, as I have already said, that the prisoner approached
+the fatal moment in cold blood, even if he had been beaten several times
+before. The condemned man experiences a fear which is very terrible, but
+purely physical--an unconscious fear which upsets his moral nature.
+
+During my several years' stay in the convict prison I was able to study
+at leisure the prisoners who wished to leave the hospital, where they
+had remained some time to have their damaged backs cured before
+receiving the second half of their punishment. This interruption in the
+punishment is always called for by the doctor who assists at the
+execution.
+
+If the number of strokes to be received is too great for them to be
+administered all at once, it is divided according to advice given by the
+doctor on the spot. It is for him to see if the prisoner is in a
+condition to undergo the whole of his punishment, or if his life is in
+danger.
+
+Five hundred, one thousand, and even one thousand five hundred strokes
+with the stick are administered at once. But if it is two or three
+thousand the punishment is divided into two or three doses.
+
+Those whose back had been cured after the first administration, and who
+are to undergo a second, were sad, sombre and silent the day they went
+out, and the evening before. They were almost in a state of torpor. They
+engaged in no conversation, and remained perfectly silent.
+
+It is worthy of remark that the prisoners avoid addressing those who are
+about to be punished, and, above all, never make any allusion to the
+subject, neither in consolation nor in superfluous words. No attention
+whatever is paid to them, which is certainly the best thing for the
+prisoner.
+
+There are exceptions, however.
+
+The convict Orloff, of whom I have already spoken, was sorry that his
+back did not get more quickly cured, for he was anxious to get his
+leave-ticket in order that he might take the rest of his flogging, and
+then be assigned to a convoy of prisoners, when he meant to escape
+during the journey. He had a passionate, ardent nature, and with only
+that object in view.
+
+A cunning rascal, he seemed very pleased when he first came; but he was
+in a state of abnormal excitement, though he endeavoured to conceal it.
+He had been afraid of being left on the ground, and dying before half of
+his punishment had been undergone. He had heard steps taken in his case,
+by the authorities, when he was still being tried, and he thought he
+could not survive the punishment. But when he had received his first
+dose he recovered his courage.
+
+When he came to the hospital I had never seen such wounds as his; but he
+was in the best spirits. He now hoped to be able to live. The stories
+which had reached him were untrue, or the execution would not have been
+interrupted.
+
+He now began to think of a long Siberian journey, possibly of escaping
+to liberty, fields, and forests.
+
+Two days after he had left the hospital he came back to die--on the very
+couch which he had occupied during my stay there.
+
+He had been unable to support the second half of his punishment; but I
+have already spoken of this man.
+
+All the prisoners without exception, even the most pusillanimous, even
+those who were beforehand tormented night and day, supported it
+courageously when it came. I scarcely ever heard groans during the night
+following the execution; our people, as a rule, knew how to endure pain.
+
+I questioned my companion often in reference to this pain, that I might
+know to what kind of suffering it might be compared. It was no idle
+curiosity which urged me. I repeat that I was moved and frightened; but
+it was in vain, I could get no satisfactory reply.
+
+"It burns like fire!" was the general answer; they all said the same
+thing.
+
+First I tried to question M--tski. "It burns like fire! like hell! It
+seems as if one's back were in a furnace."
+
+I made one day a strange observation, which may or may not have been
+well founded, although the opinion of the convicts themselves confirms
+my views; namely, that the rods are the most terrible punishment in use
+among us.
+
+At first it seems absurd, impossible, yet five hundred strokes of the
+rods, four hundred even, are enough to kill a man. Beyond five hundred
+death is almost certain; the most robust man will be unable to support a
+thousand rods, whereas five hundred sticks are endured without much
+inconvenience, and without the least risk in the world of losing one's
+life. A man of ordinary build supports a thousand sticks without danger;
+even two thousand sticks will not kill a man of ordinary strength and
+constitution. All the convicts declared that rods were worse than sticks
+or ramrods.
+
+"Rods hurt more and torture more!" they said.
+
+They must torture more than sticks, that is certain, that is evident;
+for they irritate much more forcibly the nervous system, which they
+excite beyond measure. I do not know whether any person still exists,
+but such did a short time ago, to whom the whipping of a victim procured
+a delight which recalls the Marquis de Sade and the Marchioness
+Brinvilliers. I think this delight must consist in the sinking of the
+heart, and that these nobles must have experienced pain and delight at
+the same time.
+
+There are people who, like tigers, are greedy for blood. Those who have
+possessed unlimited power over the flesh, blood, and soul of their
+fellow-creatures, of their brethren according to the law of Christ,
+those who have possessed this power and who have been able to degrade
+with a supreme degradation, another being made in the image of God;
+these men are incapable of resisting their desires and their thirst for
+sensations. Tyranny is a habit capable of being developed, and at last
+becomes a disease. I declare that the best man in the world can become
+hardened and brutified to such a point, that nothing will distinguish
+him from a wild beast. Blood and power intoxicate; they aid the
+development of callousness and debauchery; the mind then becomes capable
+of the most abnormal cruelty in the form of pleasure; the man and the
+citizen disappear for ever in the tyrant; and then a return to human
+dignity, repentance, moral resurrection, becomes almost impossible.
+
+That the possibility of such license has a contagious effect on the
+whole of society there is no doubt. A society which looks upon such
+things with an indifferent eye, is already infected to the marrow. In a
+word, the right granted to a man to inflict corporal punishment on his
+fellow-men, is one of the plague-spots of our society. It is the means
+of annihilating all civic spirit. Such a right contains in germ the
+elements of inevitable, imminent decomposition.
+
+Society despises an executioner by trade, but not a lordly executioner.
+Every manufacturer, every master of works, must feel an irritating
+pleasure when he reflects that the workman he has beneath his orders is
+dependent upon him with the whole of his family. A generation does not,
+I am sure, extirpate so quickly what is hereditary in it. A man cannot
+renounce what is in his blood, what has been transmitted to him with his
+mother's milk; these revolutions are not accomplished so quickly. It is
+not enough to confess one's fault. That is very little! Very little
+indeed! It must be rooted out, and that is not done so quickly.
+
+I have spoken of the executioners. The instincts of an executioner are
+in germ in nearly every one of our contemporaries; but the animal
+instincts of the man have not developed themselves in a uniform manner.
+When they stifle all other faculties, the man becomes a hideous monster.
+
+There are two kinds of executioners, those who of their own will are
+executioners and those who are executioners by duty, by reason of
+office. He who, by his own will, is an executioner, is in all respects
+below the salaried executioner, whom, however, the people look upon with
+repugnance, and who inspires them with disgust, with instinctive
+mystical fear. Whence comes this almost superstitious horror for the
+latter, when one is only indifferent and indulgent to the former?
+
+I know strange examples of honourable men, kind, esteemed by all their
+friends, who found it necessary that a culprit should be whipped until
+he would implore and beg for mercy; it seemed to them a natural thing, a
+thing recognised as indispensable. If the victim did not choose to cry
+out, his executioner, whom in other respects I should consider a good
+man, looked upon it as a personal offence; he meant, in the first
+instance, to inflict only a light punishment, but directly he failed to
+hear the habitual supplications, "Your nobility!" "Have mercy!" "Be a
+father to me!" "Let me thank God all my life!" he became furious, and
+ordered that fifty more blows should be administered, hoping thus, at
+last, to obtain the necessary cries and supplications; and at last they
+came.
+
+"Impossible! he is too insolent," cried the man in question, very
+seriously.
+
+As for the executioner by office, he is a convict who has been chosen
+for this function. He passes an apprenticeship with an old hand, and as
+soon as he knows his trade remains in the convict prison, where he lives
+by himself. He has a room, which he shares with no one. Sometimes,
+indeed, he has a separate establishment, but he is always under guard. A
+man is not a machine. Although he whips by virtue of his office, he
+sometimes becomes furious, and beats with a certain pleasure.
+Notwithstanding he has no hatred for his victim, a desire to show his
+skill in the art of whipping may sharpen his vanity. He works as an
+artist; he knows well that he is a reprobate, and that he excites
+everywhere superstitious dread. It is impossible that this should
+exercise no influence upon him, and not irritate his brutal instincts.
+
+Even little children say that this man has neither father nor mother.
+Strange thing!
+
+All the executioners I have known were intelligent men, possessing a
+certain degree of conceit. This conceit became developed in them through
+the contempt which they everywhere met with, and was strengthened,
+perhaps, by the consciousness of the fear with which they inspired their
+victims, and of the power over unfortunate wretches.
+
+The theatrical paraphernalia surrounding them developed, perhaps, in
+them a certain arrogance. I had for some time an opportunity of meeting
+and observing at close quarters an ordinary executioner. He was a man
+about forty, muscular, dry, with an agreeable, intelligent face,
+surrounded by long curly hair. His manners were quiet and grave, his
+general demeanour becoming. He replied clearly and sensibly to all
+questions put to him, but with a sort of condescension as if he were in
+some way my superior. The officers of the guard spoke to him with a
+certain respect, which he fully appreciated, for which reason, in
+presence of his chiefs, he became polite, and more dignified than ever.
+
+He never departed from the most refined politeness. I am sure that, when
+I was speaking to him, he felt incomparably superior to the man who was
+addressing him. I could read that in his countenance. Sometimes he was
+sent under escort, in summer, when it was very hot, to kill the dogs of
+the town with a long, very thin spear. These wandering dogs increased in
+numbers with such prodigious rapidity, and became so dangerous during
+the dog days, that, by the decision of the authorities, the executioner
+was ordered to destroy them. This degrading duty did not in any way
+humiliate him. It should have been seen with what gravity he walked
+through the streets of the town, accompanied by a soldier escorting him;
+how, with a single glance, he frightened the women and children; and
+how, from the height of his grandeur, he looked down upon the passers-by
+generally.
+
+Executioners live at their ease. They have money to travel comfortably,
+and drink vodka. They derive most of their income from presents which
+the prisoners condemned to be flogged slip into their hands before the
+execution. When they have to do with convicts who are rich, they then
+fix a sum to be paid in proportion to the means of the victim. They will
+exact thirty roubles, sometimes more. The executioner has no right to
+spare his victim; and he does so at the risk of his own back. But for a
+suitable present he agrees not to strike too hard. People almost always
+give what he asks; should they in any case refuse, he would strike like
+a savage; and it is in his power to do so. He sometimes exacts a heavy
+sum from a man who is very poor. Then all the relations of the victim
+are put in movement. They bargain, try and beat him down, supplicate
+him; but it will not be well if they do not succeed in satisfying him.
+In such a case the superstitious fear inspired by the executioner stands
+them in good part. I had been told the most wonderful things--that at
+one blow the executioner can kill his man.
+
+"Is this your experience?" I asked.
+
+Perhaps so. Who knows? Their tone seemed to decide, if there could be
+any doubt about it. They also told me that he can strike a criminal in
+such a way that he will not feel the least pain, and without leaving a
+scar.
+
+Even when the executioner receives a present not to whip too severely,
+he gives the first blow with all his strength. It is the custom! Then he
+administers the other blows with less severity, above all if he has been
+well paid.
+
+I do not know why this is done. Is it to prepare the victim for the
+succeeding blows, which will appear less painful after the first cruel
+one; or do they want to frighten the criminal, so that he may know with
+whom he has to deal; or do they simply wish to display their vigour from
+vanity? In any case the executioner is slightly excited before the
+execution, and he is conscious of his strength and of his power. He is
+acting at the time; the public admires him, and is filled with terror.
+Accordingly, it is not without satisfaction that he cries out to his
+victim, "Look out! you are going to have it!"--customary and fatal words
+which precede the first blow.
+
+It is difficult to imagine a human being degraded to such a point.
+
+The first day of my stay at the hospital I listened attentively to the
+stories of the convicts, which broke the monotony of the long days.
+
+In the morning, the doctor's visit was the first diversion. Then came
+dinner, which it will be believed was the most important affair of our
+daily life. The portions were different according to the nature of the
+illness: some of the prisoners received nothing but broth with groats in
+it; others nothing but gruel; others a kind of semolina, which was much
+liked. The convicts ended by becoming effeminate and fastidious. The
+convalescents received a piece of boiled beef. The best food, which was
+reserved for the scorbutic patients, consisted of roast beef with
+onions, horseradish, and sometimes a small glass of spirits. The bread
+was, according to the illness, black or brown; the precision preserved
+in distributing the rations would make the patients laugh.
+
+There were some who took absolutely nothing; the portions were exchanged
+in such a way that the food intended for one patient was eaten by
+another: those who were being kept on low diet, who received only small
+rations, bought those of the scorbutic patients; others would give any
+price for meat. There were some who ate two entire portions; it cost
+them a good deal, for they were generally sold at five kopecks each. If
+one had no meat to sell in our room the warder was sent to another
+section, and if he could not find any there he was asked to get some
+from the military "infirmary"--the free infirmary, as we called it.
+
+There were always patients ready to sell their rations; poverty was
+general, and those who possessed a few kopecks used to send out to buy
+cakes and white bread, or other delicacies, at the market. Warders
+executed these commissions in a disinterested manner. The most painful
+moment was that which followed the dinner; some went to sleep, if they
+had no other way of passing their time; others either wrangled or told
+stories in a loud voice.
+
+When no new patients were brought in, everything became very dull. The
+arrival of a new patient caused always a certain excitement, above all,
+if no one knew anything about him; he was questioned about his past
+life.
+
+The most interesting ones were the birds of passage: they had always
+something to tell.
+
+Of course they never spoke of their own little faults. If the prisoner
+did not enter upon this subject himself, no one questioned him about it.
+
+The only thing he was asked was, what quarter he came from? who were
+with him on the road? what state the road was in? where he was being
+taken to? etc. Stimulated by the stories of the new comers, our comrades
+in their turn began to tell what they had seen and done; what was most
+talked about was the convoys, those in command of them, the men who
+carried the sentences into execution.
+
+About this time, too, towards evening, the convicts who had been
+scourged came up; they always made a rather strong impression, as I have
+said; but it was not every day that any of these were brought to us, and
+everybody was bored to extinction, when nothing happened to give a
+fillip to the general relaxed and indolent state of feeling. It seemed,
+then, as though the sick themselves were exasperated at the very sight
+of those near them. Sometimes they squabbled violently.
+
+Our convicts were in high glee when a madman was taken off for medical
+examination; sometimes those who were sentenced to be scourged, feigned
+insanity that they might get off. The trick was found out, or it would
+sometimes be that they voluntarily gave up the pretence. Prisoners, who
+during two or three days had done all sorts of wild things, suddenly
+became steady and sensible people, quieted down, and, with a gloomy
+smile, asked to be taken out of the hospital. Neither the other convicts
+nor the doctors said a word of remonstrance to them about the deceit, or
+brought up the subject of their mad pranks. Their names were put down on
+a list without a word being said, and they were simply taken elsewhere;
+after the lapse of some days they came back to us with their backs all
+wounds and blood.
+
+On the other hand, the arrival of a genuine lunatic was a miserable
+thing to see all through the place. Those of the mentally unsound who
+were gay, lively, who uttered cries, danced, sang, were greeted at first
+with enthusiasm by the convicts.
+
+"Here's fun!" said they, as they looked on the grins and contortions of
+the unfortunates. But the sight was horribly painful and sad. I have
+never been able to look upon the mad calmly or with indifference. There
+was one who was kept three weeks in our room: we would have hidden
+ourselves, had there been any place to do it. When things were at the
+worst they brought in another. This one affected me very powerfully.
+
+In the first year, or, to be more exact, during the first month of my
+exile, I went to work with a gang of kiln men to the tileries situate at
+two versts from our prison. We were set to repairing the kiln in which
+the bricks were baked in summer. That morning, in which M--tski and B.
+made me acquainted with the non-commissioned officer, superintendent of
+the works. This was a Pole already well on in life, sixty years old at
+least, of high stature, lean, of decent and even somewhat imposing
+exterior. He had been a long time in service in Siberia, and although he
+belonged to the lower orders he had been a soldier, and in the rising of
+1830--M--tski and B. loved and esteemed him. He was always reading the
+Vulgate. I spoke to him; his talk was agreeable and intelligent; he told
+a story in a most interesting way; he was straightforward and of
+excellent temper. For two years I never saw him again, all I heard was
+that he had become a "case," and that they were inquiring into it; and
+then one fine day they brought him into our room; he had gone quite mad.
+
+He came in yelling, uttering shouts of laughter, and began to dance in
+the middle of the room with indecent gestures which recalled the dance
+known as Kamarinskaia.
+
+The convicts were wild with enthusiasm; but, for my part, account for it
+as you will, I felt utterly miserable. Three days after, we were all of
+us upset with it; he got into violent disputes with everybody, fought,
+groaned, sang in the dead of the night; his aberrations were so
+inordinate and disgusting as to bring our very stomachs up.
+
+He feared nobody. They put the strait-waistcoat on him; but we were no
+whit better off for it, for he went on quarreling and fighting all
+round. At the end of three weeks, the room put up an unanimous entreaty
+to the head doctor that he might be removed to the other apartment
+reserved for the convicts. But after two days, at the request of the
+sick people in that other room, they brought him back to our infirmary.
+As we had two madmen there at once, both rooms kept sending them back
+and forward, and ended by taking one or the other of the two lunatics,
+turn and turn about. Everybody breathed more freely when they took them
+away from us, a good way off, somewhere or other.
+
+There was another lunatic whom I remember--a very remarkable creature.
+They had brought in, during the summer, a man under sentence, who
+looked like a solid and vigorous fellow enough, of about forty-five
+years. His face was sombre and sad, pitted with small-pox, with little
+red and swollen eyes. He sat down by my side. He was extremely quiet;
+spoke to nobody, and seemed utterly absorbed in his own deep
+reflections.
+
+Night fell; then he addressed me, and, without a word of preface, told
+me in a hurried and excited way--as if it were a mighty secret he were
+confiding--that he was to have two thousand strokes with the rod; but
+that he had nothing to fear, as the daughter of Colonel G---- was taking
+steps on his behalf.
+
+I looked at him with surprise, and observed that, as I saw the affair,
+the daughter of a Colonel could be of little use in such a case. I had
+not yet guessed what sort of person I had to do with, for they had
+brought him to the hospital as a bodily sick person, not mentally. I
+then asked him what illness he was suffering from.
+
+He answered that he knew nothing about it; that he had been sent among
+us for something or other; but that he was in good health, and that the
+Colonel's daughter had fallen in love with him. Two weeks before she had
+passed in a carriage before the guard-house, where he was looking
+through the barred window, and she had gone head over ears in love at
+the mere sight of him.
+
+After that important moment she had come three times to the guard-house
+on different pretexts. The first time with her father, ostensibly to
+visit her brother, who was the officer on service; the second with her
+mother, to distribute alms to the prisoners. As she passed in front of
+him she had muttered that she loved him and would get him out of prison.
+
+He told me all this nonsense with minute and exact details; all of it
+pure figment of his poor disordered head. He believed devoutly and
+implicitly that his punishment would be graciously remitted. He spoke
+very calmly, and with all assurance of the passionate love he had
+inspired in this young lady.
+
+This odd and romantic delusion about the love of quite a young girl of
+good breeding, for a man nearly fifty years and afflicted with a face so
+disfigured and gloomy, simply showed the fearful effect produced by the
+fear of the punishment he was to have, upon the poor, timid creature.
+
+It may be that he had really seen some one through the bars of the
+window, and the insanity, germinating under excess of fear, had found
+shape and form in the delusion in question.
+
+This unfortunate soldier, who, it may be warranted, had never given a
+thought to young ladies, had got this romance into his diseased fancy,
+and clung convulsively to this wild hope. I heard him in silence, and
+then told the story to the other convicts. When these questioned him in
+their natural curiosity, he preserved a chastely discreet silence.
+
+Next day the doctor examined him. As the madman averred that he was not
+ill, he was put down on the list as qualified to be sent out. We learned
+that the physician had scribbled "_Sanat. est_" on the page, when it was
+quite too late to give him warning. Besides, we were ourselves not by
+any means sure what was really the matter with the man.
+
+The error was with the authorities who had sent him to us, without
+specifying for what reason it was thought necessary to have him come
+into the hospital--which was unpardonable negligence.
+
+However, two days later the unhappy creature was taken out to be
+scourged. We understood that he was dumbfounded by finding, contrary to
+his fixed expectation, that he really was to have the punishment. To the
+last moment he thought he would be pardoned, and when conducted to the
+front of the battalion, he began to cry for help.
+
+As there was no room or bedding-place now in our apartment they sent him
+to the infirmary. I heard that for eight entire days he did not utter a
+single word, and remained in stupid and misery-stricken mental
+confusion. When his back was cured they took him off. I never heard a
+single further word about him.
+
+As to the treatment of the sick and the remedies prescribed, those who
+were but slightly indisposed paid no attention whatever to the
+directions of the doctors, and never took their medicines; while,
+speaking generally, those really ill were very careful in following the
+doctor's orders; they took their mixtures and powders; they took all the
+possible care they could of themselves; but they preferred external to
+internal remedies.
+
+Cupping-glasses, leeches, cataplasms, blood-lettings--in all which
+things the populace has so blind a confidence--were held in high honour
+in our hospital. Inflictions of that sort were regarded with
+satisfaction.
+
+There was one thing quite strange, and to me interesting. Fellows, who
+stood without a murmur the frightful tortures caused by the rods and
+scourges, howled, and grinned, and moaned for the least little ailment.
+Whether it was all pretence or not, I really cannot say.
+
+We had cuppings of a quite peculiar kind. The machine with which
+instantaneous incisions in the skin are produced, was all out of order,
+so they had to use the lancet.
+
+For a cupping, twelve incisions are necessary; with a machine these are
+not painful at all, for it makes them instantaneously; with the lancet
+it is a different affair altogether--that cuts slowly, and makes the
+patient suffer. If you have to make ten openings there will be about one
+hundred and twenty pricks, and these very painful. I had to undergo it
+myself; besides the pain itself, it caused great nervous irritation; but
+the suffering was not so great that one could not contain himself from
+groaning if he tried.
+
+It was laughable to see great, hulking fellows wriggling and howling.
+One couldn't help comparing them to some men, firm and calm enough in
+really serious circumstances, but all ill-temper or caprice in the bosom
+of their families for nothing at all; if dinner is late or the like,
+then they'll scold and swear; everything puts them out; they go wrong
+with everybody; the more comfortable they really are, the more
+troublesome are they to other people. Characters of this sort, common
+enough among the lower orders, were but too numerous in our prison, by
+reason of our company being forced on one another.
+
+Sometimes the prisoners chaffed or insulted the thin-skins I speak of,
+and then they would leave off complaining directly; as if they only
+wanted to be insulted to make them hold their tongues.
+
+Oustiantsef was no friend of grimacings of this kind, and never let slip
+an opportunity of bringing that sort of delinquent to his bearings.
+Besides, he was fond of scolding; it was a sort of necessity with him,
+engendered by illness and also his stupidity. He would first fix his
+gaze upon you for some time, and then treat you to a long speech of
+threatening and warning, and a tone of calm and impartial conviction. It
+looked as though he thought his function in this world was to watch over
+order and morality in general.
+
+"He must poke his nose into everything," the prisoners with a laugh used
+to say; for they pitied, and did what they could to avoid conflicts with
+him.
+
+"Has he chattered enough? Three waggons wouldn't be too much to carry
+away all his talk."
+
+"Why need you put your oar in? One is not going to put himself about for
+a mere idiot. What's there to cry out about at a mere touch of a
+lancet?"
+
+"What harm in the world do you fancy _that_ is going to do you?"
+
+"No, comrades," a prisoner strikes in, "the cuppings are a mere nothing.
+I know the taste of them. But the most horrid thing is when they pull
+your ears for a long time together. That just shuts you up."
+
+All the prisoners burst out laughing.
+
+"Have you had them pulled?"
+
+"By Jove, yes, I should think he had."
+
+"That's why they stick upright, like hop-poles."
+
+This convict, Chapkin by name, really had long and quite erect ears. He
+had long led a vagabond life, was still quite young, intelligent, and
+quiet, and used to talk with a dry sort of humour with much seriousness
+on the surface, which made his stories very comical.
+
+"How in the world was I to know you had had your ears pulled and
+lengthened, brainless idiot?" began Oustiantsef, once more wrathfully
+addressing Chapkin, who, however, vouchsafed no attention to his
+companion's obliging apostrophe.
+
+"Well, who did pull your ears for you?" some one asked.
+
+"Why, the police superintendent, by Jove, comrades! Our offence was
+wandering about without fixed place of abode. We had just got into
+K----, I and another tramp, Eptinie; he had no family name, that fellow.
+On the way we had fixed ourselves up a little in the hamlet of Tolmina;
+yes, there is a hamlet that's got just that name--Tolmina. Well, we get
+to the town, and are just looking about us a little to see if there's a
+good stroke of tramp-business to do, after which we mean to flit. You
+know, out in the open country you're as free as air; but it's not
+exactly the same thing in the town. First thing, we go into a
+public-house; as we open the door we give a sharp look all round. What's
+there? A sunburnt fellow in a German coat all out at elbows, walks right
+up to us. One thing and another comes up, when he says to us:
+
+"'Pray excuse me for asking if you have any papers [passport] with you?'
+
+"'No, we haven't.'
+
+"'Nor have we either. I have two comrades besides these with me who are
+in the service of General Cuckoo [forest tramps, _i.e._, who hear the
+birds sing]. We have been seeing life a bit, and just now haven't a
+penny to bless ourselves with. May I take the liberty of requesting you
+to be so obliging as to order a quart of brandy?'
+
+"'With the greatest pleasure,' that's what we say to him. So we drink
+together. Then they tell us of a place where there's a real good stroke
+of business to be done--a house at the end of the town belonging to a
+wealthy merchant fellow; lots of good things there, so we make up our
+minds to try the job during the night; five of us, and the very moment
+we are going at it they pounce on us, take us to the station-house, and
+then before the head of the police. He says, 'I shall examine them
+myself.' Out he goes with his pipe, and they bring in for him a cup of
+tea; a sturdy fellow it was, with whiskers. Besides us five, there were
+three other tramps, just brought in. You know, comrades, that there's
+nothing in this world more funny than a tramp, because he always forgets
+everything he's done. You may thump his head till you're tired with a
+cudgel; all the same, you'll get but one answer, that he has forgotten
+all about everything.
+
+"The police superintendent then turns to me and asks me squarely,
+
+"'Who may you be?'
+
+"I answer just like all the rest of them:
+
+"'I've forgotten all about it, your worship.'
+
+"'Just you wait; I've a word or two more to say to you. I know your
+phiz.'
+
+"Then he gives me a good long stare. But I hadn't seen him anywhere
+before, that's a fact.
+
+"Then he asks another of them, 'Who are you?'
+
+"'Mizzle-and-scud, your worship.'
+
+"'They call you Mizzle-and-scud?'
+
+"'Precisely that, your worship.'
+
+"'Well and good, you're Mizzle-and-scud! And you?' to a third.
+
+"'Along-of-him, your worship.'
+
+"'But what's your name--your name?'
+
+"'Me? I'm called Along-of-him, your worship.'
+
+"'Who gave you that name, hound?'
+
+"'Very worthy people, your worship. There are lots of worthy people
+about; nobody knows that better than your worship.'
+
+"'And who may these "worthy people" be?'
+
+"'Oh, Lord, it has slipped my memory, your worship. Do be so kind and
+gracious as to overlook it.'
+
+"'So you've forgotten them, all of them, these "worthy people"?'
+
+"'Every mother's son of them, your worship.'
+
+"'But you must have had relations--a father, a mother. Do you remember
+them?'
+
+"'I suppose I must have had, your worship; but I've forgotten about 'em,
+my memory is so bad. Now I come to think about it, I'm sure I had some,
+your worship.'
+
+"'But where have you been living till now?'
+
+"'In the woods, your worship.'
+
+"'Always in the woods?'
+
+"'Always in the woods!'
+
+"'Winter too?'
+
+"'Never saw any winter, your worship.'
+
+"'Get along with you! And you--what's your name?'
+
+"'Hatchets-and-axes, your worship.'
+
+"'And yours?'
+
+"'Sharp-and-mum, your worship.'
+
+"'And you?'
+
+"'Keen-and-spry, your worship.'
+
+"'And not a soul of you remembers anything that ever happened to you.'
+
+"'Not a mother's son of us anything whatever.'
+
+"He couldn't help it; he laughed out loud. All the rest began to laugh
+at seeing him laugh! But the thing does not always go off like that.
+Sometimes they lay about them, these police, with their fists, till you
+get every tooth in your jaw smashed. Devilish big and strong these
+fellows, I can tell you.
+
+"'Take them off to the lock-up,' said he. 'I'll see to them in a bit. As
+for you, stop here!'
+
+"That's me.
+
+"'Just you go and sit down there.'
+
+"Where he pointed to there was paper, a pen, and ink; so thinks I,
+'What's he up to now?'
+
+"'Sit down,' he says again; 'take the pen and write.'
+
+"And then he goes and clutches at my ear and gives it a good pull. I
+looked at him in the sort of way the devil may look at a priest.
+
+"'I can't write, your worship.'
+
+"'Write, write!'
+
+"'Have mercy on me, your worship!'
+
+"'Write your best; write, write!'
+
+"And all the while he keeps pulling my ear, pulling and twisting. Pals,
+I'd rather have had three hundred strokes of the cat; I tell you it was
+hell.
+
+"'Write, write!' that was all he said."
+
+"Had the fellow gone mad? What the mischief was it?
+
+"Bless us, no! A little while before, a secretary had done a stroke of
+business at Tobolsk: he had robbed the local treasury and gone off with
+the money; he had very big ears, just as I have. They had sent the fact
+all over the country. I answered to that description; that's why he
+tormented me with his 'Write, write!' He wanted to find out if I could
+write, and to see my hand.
+
+"'A regular sharp chap that! Did it hurt?'
+
+"'Oh, Lord, don't say a word about it, I beg.'
+
+"Everybody burst out laughing.
+
+"'Well, you did write?'
+
+"'What the deuce was there to write? I set my pen going over the paper,
+and did it to such good account that he left off torturing me. He just
+gave me a dozen thumps, regulation allowance, and then let me go about
+my business: to prison, that is.'
+
+"'Do you really know how to write?'
+
+"'Of course I did. What d'ye mean? Used to very well; forgotten the
+whole blessed thing, though, ever since they began to use pens for it.'"
+
+Thanks to the gossip talk of the convicts who filled the hospital, time
+was somewhat quickened for us. But still, Almighty God, how wearied and
+bored we were! Long, long were the days, suffocating in their monotony,
+one absolutely the same as another. If only I had had a single book.
+
+For all that I went often to the infirmary, especially in the early days
+of my banishment, either because I was ill or because I needed rest,
+just to get out of the worse parts of the prison. In those life was
+indeed made a burden to us, worse even than in the hospital, especially
+as regards the effect upon moral sentiment and good feeling. We of the
+nobility were the never-ceasing objects of envious dislike, quarrels
+picked with us all the time, something done every moment to put us in
+the wrong, looks filled with menacing hatred unceasingly directed on us!
+Here, in the sick-rooms, one lived on a sort of footing of equality,
+there was something of comradeship.
+
+The most melancholy moment of the twenty-four hours was evening, when
+night set in. We went to bed very early. A smoky lamp just gave us one
+point of light at the very end of the room, near the door. In our corner
+we were almost in complete darkness. The air was pestilential, stifling.
+Some of the sick people could not get to sleep, would rise up, and
+remain sitting for an hour together on their beds, with their heads
+bent, as though they were in deep reflection. These I would look at
+steadily, trying to guess what they might be thinking of; thus I tried
+to kill time. Then I became lost in my own reveries; the past came up to
+me again, showing itself to my imagination in large powerful outlines
+filled with high lights and massive shadows, details that at any other
+time would have remained in oblivion, presented themselves in vivid
+force, making on me an impression impossible under any other
+circumstances.
+
+Then I would begin to muse dreamily on the future. When shall I leave
+this place of restraint, this dreadful prison? Whither betake myself?
+What will then befall me? Shall I return to the place of my birth? So I
+brood, and brood, until hope lives once again in my soul.
+
+Another time I would begin to count, one, two, three, etc., to see if
+sleep could be won that way. I would set sometimes as far as three
+thousand, and was as wakeful as ever. Then somebody would turn in his
+bed.
+
+Then there's Oustiantsef coughing, that cough of the hopelessly-gone
+consumptive, and then he would groan feebly, and stammer, "My God, I've
+sinned, I've sinned!"
+
+How frightful it was, that voice of the sick man, that broken, dying
+voice, in the midst of that silence so dead and complete! In a corner
+there are some sick people not yet asleep, talking in a low voice,
+stretched on their pallets. One of them is telling the story of his
+life, all about things infinitely far off; things that have fled for
+ever; he is talking of his trampings through the world, of his children,
+his wife, the old ways of his life. And the very accent of the man's
+voice tells you that all those things are for ever over for him, that he
+is as a limb cut off from the world of men, cut off, thrown aside; there
+is another, listening intently to what he is saying. A weak, feeble sort
+of muttering and murmuring comes to one's ear from far-off in the dreary
+room, a sound as of far-off water flowing somewhere.... I remember that
+one time, during a winter night that seemed as if it would never end, I
+heard a story which at first seemed as if it were the stammerings of a
+creature in nightmare, or the delirium of fever. Here it is:
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[4] What I relate about corporal punishment took place during my time.
+Now, as I am told, everything is changed, and is changing still.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE HUSBAND OF AKOULKA
+
+
+It was late at night, about eleven o'clock. I had been sleeping some
+time and woke up with a start. The wan and weak light of the distant
+lamp barely lit the room. Nearly everybody was fast asleep, even
+Oustiantsef; in the quiet of the night I heard his difficult breathing,
+and the rattlings in his throat with every respiration. In the
+ante-chamber sounded the heavy and distant footsteps of the patrol as
+the men came up. The butt of a gun struck the floor with its low and
+heavy sound.
+
+The door of the room was opened, and the corporal counted the sick,
+stepping softly about the place. After a minute or so he closed the door
+again, leaving a fresh sentinel there; the patrol went off, silence
+reigned again. It was only then that I observed two prisoners, not far
+from me, who were not sleeping, and who seemed to be holding a muttered
+conversation. Sometimes, in fact, it would happen that a couple of sick
+people, whose beds adjoined and who had not exchanged a word for weeks,
+would all of a sudden break out into conversation with one another, in
+the middle of the night, and one of them would tell the other his
+history.
+
+Probably they had been speaking for some considerable time. I did not
+hear the beginning of it, and could not at first seize upon their words,
+but little by little I got familiar with the muttered sounds, and
+understood all that was going on. I had not the least desire for sleep
+on me, so what could I do but listen.
+
+One of them was telling his story with some warmth, half-lying on his
+bed, with his head lifted and stretched towards his companion. He was
+plainly excited to no little degree; the necessity of speech was on him.
+
+The man listening was sitting up on his pallet, with a gloomy and
+indifferent air, his legs stretched out flat on the mattress, and now
+and again murmured some words in reply, more out of politeness than
+interest, and kept stuffing his nose with snuff from a horn box. This
+was the soldier Techerevin, one of the company of discipline; a morose,
+cold-reasoning pedant, an idiot full of _amour propre_; while the
+narrator was Chichkof, about thirty years old; this was a civilian
+convict, whom up to that time I had not at all observed; and during the
+whole time I was at the prison I never could get up the smallest
+interest in him, for he was a conceited, heady fellow.
+
+Sometimes he would hold his tongue for weeks together, and look sulky
+and brutal enough for anything; then all of a sudden he would strike
+into anything that was going on, behave insufferably, go into a white
+heat about nothing at all, and tell you long stories with nothing in
+them whatever about one barrack or another, blowing abuse on all the
+world, and acting like a man beside himself. Then some one would give
+him a hiding, and he would have another fit of silence. He was a mean
+and cowardly fellow, and the object of general contempt. His stature
+was low, he had little flesh on him, he had wandering eyes, though they
+sometimes got mixed and seemed filled with a stupid sort of thinking.
+When he told you anything he worked himself into a fever, gesticulated
+wildly, suddenly broke off and went to another subject, lost himself in
+fresh details, and at last forgot altogether what he was talking about.
+He often got into squabbles, this Chichkof, and when he poured insult on
+his adversary, he spoke with a sentimental whine and was affected nearly
+to tears. He was not a bad hand at playing the _balalaika_, and had a
+weakness for it; on fete days he would show you his dancing powers when
+others set him at it, and he danced by no means badly. You could easily
+enough make him do what you wanted ... not that he was of a complying
+turn, but he liked to please and to get intimate with fellows.
+
+For some considerable time I couldn't understand the story Chichkoff was
+telling; that night I mean. It seemed to me as though he were constantly
+rambling from the point to talk of something else. Perhaps he had
+observed that Tcherevine was paying little attention to the narrative,
+but I fancy that he was minded to overlook this indifference, so as not
+to take offence.
+
+"When he went out on business," he continued, "every one saluted him
+politely, paid him every respect ... a fellow with money that."
+
+"You say that he was in some trade or other."
+
+"Yes; trade indeed! The trading class in my country is wretchedly
+ill-off; just poverty-stricken. The women go to the river and fetch
+water from ever such a distance to water their gardens. They wear
+themselves to the very bone, and, for all that, when winter comes, they
+haven't got enough to make a mere cabbage soup. I tell you it's
+starvation. But that fellow had a good lump of land, which his labourers
+cultivated; he had three. Then he had hives, and sold his honey; he was
+a cattle-dealer too; a much respected man in our parts. He was very old
+and quite gray, his seventy years lay heavy on his old bones. When he
+came to the market-place with his fox-skin pelisse, everybody saluted
+him.
+
+"'Good-day, daddy Aukoudim Trophimtych!'
+
+"'Good-day,' he'd return.
+
+"'How are you getting along;' he never looked down on any one.
+
+"'God keep you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!'
+
+"'How goes business with you?'
+
+"'Business is as good as tallow's white with me; and how's yours,
+daddy?'
+
+"'We've just got enough of a livelihood to pay the price of sin; always
+sweating over our bit of land.'
+
+"'Lord preserve you, Aukoudim Trophimtych!'
+
+"He never looked down on anybody. All his advice was always worth
+having; every one of his words was worth a rouble. A great reader he
+was, quite a man of learning; but he stuck to religious books. He would
+call his old wife and say to her, 'Listen, woman, take well in what I
+say;' then he would explain things. His old Marie Stepanovna was not
+exactly an old woman, if you please; it was his second wife; he had
+married her to have children, his first wife had not brought him any. He
+had two boys still quite young, for the second of them was born when his
+father was close on sixty; Akoulka, his daughter, was eighteen years
+old, she was the eldest."
+
+"Your wife? Isn't it so?"
+
+"Wait a bit, wait. Then Philka Marosof begins to kick up a row. Says he
+to Aukoudim: 'Let's split the difference. Give me back my four hundred
+roubles. I'm not your beast of burden; I don't want to do any more
+business with you, and I don't want to marry your Akoulka. I want to
+have my fling now that my parents are dead. I'll liquor away my money,
+then I'll engage myself, 'list for a soldier; and in ten years I'll come
+back here a field-marshal!' Aukoudim gave him back his money--all he
+had of his. You see he and Philka's father had both put in money and
+done business together.
+
+"'You're a lost man,' that's what he said to Philka.
+
+"'Whether I'm a lost man or not, old gray-beard, you're the biggest
+cheat I know. You'd try to screw a fortune out of four farthings, and
+pick up all the dirt about to do it with. I spit upon it. There you are
+piling up here, digging deep there, the devil only knows why. I've got a
+will of my own, I tell you. All the same I won't take your Akoulka; I've
+slept with her already.'
+
+"'How dare you insult a respectable father--a respectable girl? When did
+you sleep with her, you spawn of the sucker, you dog, you hound,
+you----?' said Aukoudim shaking with passion. (Philka told us all this
+later).
+
+"'I'll not only not marry your daughter, but I'll take good care that
+nobody marries her, not even Mikita Grigoritch, for she's a disreputable
+girl. We had a fine time together, she and I, all last autumn. I don't
+want her at any price. All the money in the world wouldn't make me take
+her.'
+
+"Then the fellow went and had high jinks for a while. All the town was
+as one man in sending up a cry against him. He got a lot of other
+fellows round him, for he had a heap of money. Three months he had of
+it. Such recklessness as you never heard of. Every penny went.
+
+"'I want to see the end of this money. I'll sell the house; everything;
+then I'll 'list or go on the tramp.'
+
+"He was drunk from morning to evening, and went about with a carriage
+and pair.
+
+"The girls liked him well, I tell you, for he played the guitar very
+nicely."
+
+"Then it is true that he had been too well with this Akoulka?"
+
+"Wait, wait, can't you? I had just buried my father. My mother lived by
+baking gingerbread. We got our livelihood by working for Aukoudim;
+barely enough to eat, a precious hard life it was. We had a bit of land
+the other side of the woods, and grew corn there; but when my father
+died I went on a spree. I made my mother give me money; but I had to
+give her a good hiding first."
+
+"You were very wrong to beat her; a great sin that?"
+
+"Sometimes I was drunk the whole blessed day. We had a house that was
+just tumbling to pieces with dry rot, still it was our own; we were as
+near famished as could be; for weeks together we had nothing but rags to
+chew. Mother nearly killed me with one stupid trick or another, but I
+didn't care a curse. Philka Marosof and I were always together day and
+night. 'Play the guitar to me,' he'd say, 'and I'll lie in bed the
+while. I'll throw money to you, for I'm the richest chap in the world!'
+The fellow could not speak without lying. There was only one thing. He
+wouldn't touch a thing if it had been stolen. 'I'm no thief, I'm an
+honest man. Let's go and daub Akoulka's door with pitch,[5] for I won't
+have her marry Mikita Grigoritch, I'll stick to that.'
+
+"The old man had long meant to give his daughter to this Mikita
+Grigoritch. He was a man well on in life, in trade too, and wore
+spectacles. When he heard the story of Akoulka's bad conduct, he said to
+the old father, 'That would be a terrible disgrace for me, Aukoudim
+Trophimtych; on the whole, I've made up my mind not to marry; it's to
+late.'
+
+"So we went and daubed Akoulka's door all over with pitch. When we'd
+done that her folks beat her so that they nearly killed her.
+
+"Her mother, Marie Stepanovna, cried, 'I shall die of it,' while the old
+man said, 'If we were in the days of the patriarchs, I'd have hacked
+her to pieces on a block. But now everything is rottenness and
+corruption in this world.' Sometimes the neighbours from one end of the
+street to the other heard Akoulka's screams. She was whipped from
+morning to evening, and Philka would cry out in the market-place before
+everybody:
+
+"Akoulka's a jolly girl to get drunk with. I've given it those people
+between the eyes, they won't forget me in a hurry.'
+
+"Well, one day, I met Akoulka, she was going for water with her bucket,
+so I cried out to her: 'A fine morning, pet Akoulka Koudimovna! you're
+the girl who knows how to please fellows. Who's living with you now, and
+where do you get your money for your finery?' That's just what I said to
+her; she opened her eyes as wide as you please. No more flesh on her
+than on a log of wood. She had only just given me a look, but her mother
+thought she was larking with me, and cried from her door-step, 'Impudent
+hussy, what do you mean by talking with that fellow?' And from that
+moment they began to beat her again. Sometimes they hided her for an
+hour together. The mother said, 'I give her the whip because she isn't
+my daughter any more.'"
+
+"She was then as bad as they said?"
+
+"Now you just listen to my story, nunky, will you? Well, we used to get
+drunk all the time with Philka. One day when I was abed, mother comes
+and says:
+
+"'What d'ye mean by lying in bed, you hound, you thief!' She abused me
+for some time, then she said, 'Marry Akoulka. They'll be glad to give
+her to you, and they'll give three hundred roubles with her.'
+
+"'But,' says I, 'all the world knows that she's a bad girl----'
+
+"'Hist, the marriage ceremony cures all that; besides, she'll always be
+in fear of her life from you, so you'll be in clover together. Their
+money would make us comfortable; I've spoken about the marriage already
+to Marie Stepanovna, we're of one mind about it.'
+
+"So I say, 'Let's have twenty roubles down on the spot, and I'll have
+her.'
+
+"Well, you needn't believe it unless you please, but I was drunk right
+up to the wedding-day. Then Philka Marosof kept threatening me all the
+time.
+
+"'I'll break every bone in your body, a nice fellow you to be engaged,
+and to Akoulka; if I like I'll sleep every blessed night with her when
+she's your wife.'
+
+"'You're a hound, and a liar,' that's what I said to him. But he
+insulted me so in the street, before everybody, that I ran to Aukoudim's
+and said, 'I won't marry her unless I have fifty roubles down this
+moment.'"
+
+"And they really did give her to you in marriage?"
+
+"Me? Why not, I should like to know? We were respectable people enough.
+Father had been ruined by a fire a little before he died; he had been a
+richer man than Aukoudim Trophimtych.
+
+"'A fellow without a shirt to his back like you ought to be only too
+happy to marry my daughter;' that's what old Aukoudim said.
+
+"'Just you think of your door, and the pitch that went on it,' I said to
+him.
+
+"'Stuff and nonsense,' said he, 'there's no proof whatever that the
+girl's gone wrong.'
+
+"'Please yourself. There's the door, and you can go about your business;
+but give back the money you've had!'
+
+"Then Philka Marosof and I settled it together to send Mitri Bykoff to
+Father Aukoudim to tell him that we'd insult him to his face before
+everybody. Well, I had my skin as full as it could hold right up to the
+wedding-day. I wasn't sober till I got into the church. When they took
+us home after church the girl's uncle, Mitrophone Stepanytch, said:
+
+"'This isn't a nice business; but it's over and done now.'
+
+"Old Aukoudim was sitting there crying, the tears rolled down on his
+gray beard. Comrade, I'll tell you what I had done: I had put a whip
+into my pocket before we went to church, and I'd made up my mind to have
+it out of her with that, so that all the world might know how I'd been
+swindled into the marriage, and not think me a bigger fool than I am."
+
+"I see, and you wanted her to know what was in store for her. Ah,
+was----?"
+
+"Quiet, nunky, quiet! Among our people I'll tell you how it is; directly
+after the marriage ceremony they take the couple to a room apart, and
+the others remain drinking till they return. So I'm left alone with
+Akoulka; she was pale, not a bit of colour on her cheeks; frightened out
+of her wits. She had fine hair, supple and bright as flax, and great big
+eyes. She scarcely ever was known to speak; you might have thought she
+was dumb; an odd creature, Akoulka, if ever there was one. Well, you can
+just imagine the scene. My whip was ready on the bed. Well, she was as
+pure a girl as ever was, not a word of it all was true."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"True, I swear; as good a girl as any good family might wish."
+
+"Then, brother, why--why--why had she had to undergo all that torture?
+Why had Philka Marosof slandered her so?"
+
+"Yes, why, indeed?"
+
+"Well, I got down from the bed, and went on my knees before her, and put
+my hands together as if I were praying, and just said to her, 'Little
+mother, pet, Akoulka Koudimovna, forgive me for having been such an
+idiot as to believe all that slander; forgive me. I'm a hound!'
+
+"She was seated on the bed, and gazed at me fixedly. She put her two
+hands on my shoulders and began to laugh; but the tears were running
+all down her cheeks. She sobbed and laughed all at once.
+
+"Then I went out and said to the people in the other room, 'Let Philka
+Marosof look to himself. If I come across him he won't be long for this
+world.'
+
+"The old people were beside themselves with delight. Akoulka's mother
+was ready to throw herself at her daughter's feet, and sobbed.
+
+"Then the old man said, 'If we had known really how it was, my dearest
+child, we wouldn't have given you a husband of that sort.'
+
+"You ought to have seen how we were dressed the first Sunday after our
+marriage--when we left church! I'd got a long coat of fine cloth, a fur
+cap, with plush breeches. She had a pelisse of hareskin, quite new, and
+a silk kerchief on her head. One was as fine as the other. Everybody
+admired us. I must say I looked well, and pet Akoulka did too. One
+oughtn't to boast, but one oughtn't to sing small. I tell you people
+like us are not turned out by the dozen."
+
+"Not a doubt about it."
+
+"Just you listen, I tell you. The day after my marriage I ran off from
+my guests, drunk as I was, and went about the streets crying, 'Where's
+that scoundrel of a Philka Marosof? Just let him come near me, the
+hound, that's all!' I went all over the market-place yelling that out. I
+was as drunk as a man could be, and stand.
+
+"They went after me and caught me close to Vlassof's place. It took
+three men to get me back again to the house.
+
+"Well, nothing else was spoken about all over the village. The girls
+said, when they met in the market-place, 'Well, you've heard the
+news--Akoulka was all right!'
+
+"A little while after I do come across Philka Marosof, who said to me
+before everybody, strangers to the place, too, 'Sell your wife, and
+spend the money on drink. Jackka the soldier only married for that; he
+didn't sleep one night with his wife; but he got enough to keep his skin
+full for three years.'
+
+"I answered him, 'Hound!'
+
+"'But,' says he, 'you're an idiot! You didn't know what you were about
+when you married--you were drunk. How could you tell all about it?'
+
+"So off I went to the house, and cried out to them 'You married me when
+I was drunk.'
+
+"Akoulka's mother tried to fasten herself on me; but I cried, 'Mother,
+you don't know about anything but money. You bring me Akoulka!'
+
+"And didn't I beat her! I tell you I beat her for two hours running,
+till I rolled on the floor myself with fatigue. She couldn't leave her
+bed for three weeks."
+
+"It's a dead sure thing," said Tcherevine phlegmatically; "if you don't
+beat them they---- Did you find her with her lover?"
+
+"No; to tell the truth, I never actually caught her," said Chichkoff
+after a pause, speaking with effort; "but I was hurt, a good deal hurt,
+for every one made fun of me. The cause of it all was Philka. 'Your wife
+is just made for everybody to look at,' said he.
+
+"One day he invited us to see him, and then he went at it. 'Do just look
+what a good little wife he has! Isn't she tender, fine, nicely brought
+up, affectionate, full of kindness for all the world? I say, my lad,
+have you forgotten how we daubed their door with pitch?' I was full at
+that moment, drunk as may be; then he seized me by the hair and had me
+down upon the ground before I knew where I was. 'Come along--dance;
+aren't you Akoulka's husband? I'll hold your hair for you, and you shall
+dance; it will be good fun.' 'Dog!' said I to him. 'I'll bring some
+jolly fellows to your house,' said he, 'and I'll whip your Akoulka
+before your very eyes just as long as I please.' Would you believe it?
+For a whole month I daren't go out of the house, I was so afraid he'd
+come to us and drag my wife through the dirt. And how I did beat her for
+it!"
+
+"What was the use of beating her? You can tie a woman's hands, but not
+her tongue. You oughtn't to give them a hiding too often. Beat 'em a
+bit, then scold 'em well, then fondle 'em; that's what a woman is made
+for."
+
+Chichkoff remained quite silent for a few moments.
+
+"I was very much hurt," he went on; "I began it again just as before. I
+beat her from morning till night for nothing; because she didn't get up
+from her seat the way I liked; because she didn't walk to suit me. When
+I wasn't hiding her, time hung heavy on my hands. Sometimes she sat by
+the window crying silently--it hurt my feelings sometimes to see her
+cry, but I beat her all the same. Sometimes her mother abused me for it:
+'You're a scoundrel, a gallows-bird!' 'Don't say a word or I'll kill
+you; you made me marry her when I was drunk, you swindled me.' Old
+Aukoudim wanted at first to have his finger in the pie. Said he to me
+one day: 'Look here, you're not such a tremendous fellow that one can't
+put you down;' but he didn't get far on that track. Marie Stepanovna had
+become as sweet as milk. One day she came to me crying her eyes out and
+said: 'My heart is almost broken, Ivan Semionytch; what I'm going to ask
+of you is a little thing for you, but it is a good deal to me; let her
+go, let her leave you, daddy Ivan.' Then she throws herself at my feet.
+'Do give up being so angry! Wicked people slander her; you know quite
+well she was good when you married her.' Then she threw herself at my
+feet again and cried. But I was as hard as nails. 'I won't hear a word
+you have to say; what I choose to do, I do, to you or anybody, for I'm
+crazed with it all. As to Philka Marosof, he's my best and dearest
+friend.'"
+
+"You'd begun to play your pranks together again, you and he?"
+
+"No, by Jove! He was out of the way by this time; he was killing himself
+with drink, nothing less. He had spent all he had on drink, and had
+'listed for a soldier, as substitute for a citizen body in the town. In
+our parts, when a lad makes up his mind to be substitute for another, he
+is master of that house and everybody there till he's called to the
+ranks. He gets the sum agreed on the day he goes off, but up to then he
+lives in the house of the man who buys him, sometimes six whole months,
+and there isn't a horror in the whole world those fellows are not guilty
+of. It's enough to make folks take the holy images out of the house.
+From the moment he consents to be substitute for the son of the family
+then he considers himself their patron and benefactor, and makes them
+dance as he pipes, or else he goes off the bargain.
+
+"So Philka Marosof played the very mischief at the home of this
+townsman. He slept with the daughter, pulled the master of the house by
+the beard after dinner, did anything that came into his head. They had
+to heat the bath for him every day, and, what's more, give him brandy
+fumes with the steam of the bath: and he would have the women lead him
+by the arms to the bath room.[6]
+
+"When he came back to the man's house after a revel elsewhere, he would
+stop right in the middle of the road and cry out:
+
+"'I won't go in by the door; pull down the fence!'
+
+"And they actually _had_ to pull down the fence, though there was the
+door right at it to let him in. That all came to an end though, the day
+they took him to the regiment. That day he was sobered sufficiently. The
+crowd gathered all through the street.
+
+"'They're taking off Philka Marosof!'
+
+"He made a salute on all sides, right and left. Just at that moment
+Akoulka was returning from the kitchen-garden. Directly Philka saw her
+he cried out to her:
+
+"'Stop!' and down he jumped from the cart and threw himself down at her
+feet.
+
+"'My soul, my sweet little strawberry, I've loved you two years long.
+Now they're taking me off to the regiment with the band playing. Forgive
+me, good honest girl of a good honest father, for I'm nothing but a
+hound, and all you've gone through is my fault.'
+
+"Then he flings himself down before her a second time. At first Akoulka
+was exceedingly frightened; but she made him a great bow, which nearly
+bent her double.
+
+"'Forgive me, too, my good lad; but I am really not at all angry with
+you.'
+
+"As she went into the house I was at her heels.
+
+"'What did you say to him, you she-devil, you?'
+
+"Now you may believe it or not as you like, but she looked at me as bold
+as you please, and answered:
+
+"'I love him better than anything or anybody in this world.'
+
+"'I say!'
+
+"That day I didn't utter one single word. Only towards evening I said to
+her: 'Akoulka, I'm going to kill you now.' I didn't close an eye the
+whole night. I went into the little room leading to ours and drank
+kwass. At daybreak I went into the house again. 'Akoulka, get ready and
+come into the fields.' I had arranged to go there before; my wife knew
+it.
+
+"'You are right,' said she. 'It's quite time to begin reaping. I've
+heard that our labourer is ill and doesn't work a bit.'
+
+"I put to the cart without saying a word. As you go out of the town
+there's a forest fifteen versts in length. At the end of it is our
+field. When we had gone about three versts through the wood I stopped
+the horse.
+
+"'Come, get up, Akoulka; your end is come.'
+
+"She looked at me all in a fright, and got up without a word.
+
+"'You've tormented me enough. Say your prayers.'
+
+"I seized her by the hair--she had long, thick tresses--I rolled them
+round my arm. I held her between my knees; took out my knife; threw her
+head back, and cut her throat. She screamed; the blood spurted out. Then
+I threw away my knife. I pressed her with all my might in my arms. I put
+her on the ground and embraced her, yelling with all my might. She
+screamed; I yelled; she struggled and struggled. The blood--her
+blood--splashed my face, my hands. It was stronger than I was--stronger.
+Then I took fright. I left her--left my horse and began to run; ran back
+to the house.
+
+"I went in the back way, and hid myself in the old ramshackle
+bath-house, which we never used now. I lay myself down under the seat,
+and remained hid till the dead of the night."
+
+"And Akoulka?"
+
+"She got up to come back to the house; they found her later, a hundred
+steps from the place."
+
+"So you hadn't finished her?"
+
+"No." Chichkoff stopped a while.
+
+"Yes," said Tcherevine, "there's a vein; if you don't cut it at the
+first the man will go on struggling; the blood may flow fast enough, but
+he won't die."
+
+"But she was dead all the same. They found her in the evening, and she
+was cold. They told the police, and hunted me up. They found me in the
+night in the old bath.
+
+"And there you have it. I've been four years here already," added he,
+after a pause.
+
+"Yes, if you don't beat 'em you make no way at all," said Tcherevine
+sententiously, taking out his snuff-box once more. He took his pinches
+very slowly, with long pauses. "For all that, my lad, you behaved like a
+fool. Why, I myself--I came upon my wife with a lover. I made her come
+into the shed, and then I doubled up a halter and said to her:
+
+"'To whom did you swear to be faithful?--to whom did you swear it in
+church? Tell me that?'
+
+"And then I gave it her with my halter--beat her and beat her for an
+hour and a half; till at last she was quite spent, and cried out:
+
+"'I'll wash your feet and drink the water afterwards.'
+
+"Her name was Crodotia."
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[5] Daubing the door of a house, where a young girl lives, is done to
+show that she is dishonoured.
+
+[6] A mark of respect paid in Russia formerly, now disused.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE SUMMER SEASON
+
+
+April is come; Holy Week is not far off. We set about our summer tasks.
+The sun becomes hotter and more brilliant every day; the atmosphere has
+the spring in it, and acts upon our nervous system powerfully. The
+convict, in his chains, feels the trembling influence of the lovely days
+like any other creature; they rouse desires in him, inexpressible
+longings for his home, and many other things. I think that he misses his
+liberty, yearns for freedom more when the day is filled with sunlight
+than during the rainy and melancholy days of autumn and winter. You may
+observe this positively among convicts; if they _do_ feel a little joy
+on a beautiful clear day, they have a reaction into greater impatience
+and irritability.
+
+I noticed that in spring there was much more squabbling in our prison;
+there was more noise, the yelling was greater, there were more fights;
+during the working hours we would see a man sometimes fixed in a
+meditative gaze, which seemed lost in the blue distance somewhere, the
+other side of the Irtych, where stretched the boundless plain, with its
+flight of hundreds of versts, the free Kirghiz Steppe. Long-drawn sighs
+came to one's ear, sighs breathed from the depths of the chest; it might
+seem that the air of those wide and free regions, haunted by their
+thought, forced the convicts to draw deep respirations, and was a sort
+of solace to their crushed and fettered souls.
+
+"Ah!" cries at last the poor prisoner all at once, with a long, sighing
+cry; then he seizes his pick furiously, or picks up the bricks, which he
+has to carry from one place to another. But after a brief minute he
+seems to forget the passing impression, and begins laughing, or
+insulting people near, so fitful is his humour; then he attacks the work
+he has to do with unusual fire, labours with might and main, as if
+trying to stifle by fatigue the grief that has him by the throat. You
+see they are fellows of unimpaired vigour, all in the very flower of
+life, with all their physical and other strength about them.
+
+How heavy the irons are during this season! All this is not
+sentimentality, it is the report of rigorous observation. During the hot
+season, under a fiery sun, when all one's being, all one's soul, is
+vividly conscious of, and intimately feels, the unspeakably strong
+resurrection of nature going on everywhere, it is more difficult to
+support the confinement, the perpetual surveillance, the tyranny of a
+will other than one's own.
+
+Besides this, it is in spring with the first song of the lark that
+throughout all Siberia and Russia men set out on the tramp; God's
+creatures, if they can, break their prison and escape into the woods.
+After the stifling ditch where they work, after the boats, the irons,
+the rods and whips, they go vagabondizing where they please, wherever
+they can make it out best; they eat and drink what they can get, 'tis
+all the time pot-luck with them; and by night they sleep undisturbed in
+the woods or in a field, without a care, without the agony of knowing
+themselves in prison, as if they were God's own birds; their
+"good-night" is said to the stars, and the eye that watches them is the
+eye of God. Not altogether a rosy life, by any means; sometimes hunger
+and fatigue are heavy on them "in the service of General Cuckoo." Often
+enough the wanderers have not a morsel of bread to keep their teeth
+going for days and days. They have to hide from everybody, run to earth
+like marmots; sometimes they are driven to robbery, pillage--nay, even
+murder.
+
+"Send a man there and he becomes a child, and just throws himself on all
+he sees"; that is what people say of those transported to Siberia. This
+saying may be applied even more fitly to the tramps. They are almost all
+brigands and thieves, by necessity rather than inclination. Many of them
+are hardened to the life, irreclaimable; there are convicts who go off
+after having served their time, even after they have been put on some
+land as their own. They ought to be happy in their new state, with their
+daily bread assured them. Well, it is not so; an irresistible impulse
+sends them wandering off.
+
+This life in the woods, wretched and fearful as it is, but still free
+and adventurous, has a mysterious seduction for those who have
+experienced it; among these fugitives you may find to your surprise,
+people of good habit of mind, peaceable temper, who had shown every
+promise of becoming settled creatures--good tillers of the land. A
+convict will marry, have children, live for five years in the same
+place, then all of a sudden he will disappear one fine morning,
+abandoning wife and children, to the stupefaction of his family and the
+whole neighbourhood.
+
+One day, I was shown at the convict establishment one of these deserters
+of the family hearthstone. He had committed no crime--at least, he was
+under suspicion of none--but all through his life he had been a
+deserter, a deserter from every post. He had been to the southern
+frontier of the empire, the other side of the Danube, in the Kirghiz
+Steppe, in Eastern Siberia, the Caucasus, in a word, everywhere. Who
+knows? under other conditions this man might have been a Robinson
+Crusoe, with the passion of travel so on him. These details I have from
+other convicts, for he did not like talk, and never opened his mouth
+except when absolutely necessary. He was a peasant, of quite small size,
+of some fifty years, very quiet in demeanour, with a face so still as to
+seem quite without any sort of meaning, impassive almost to idiotcy.
+His delight was to sit for hours in the sun humming a sort of song
+between his teeth so softly, that five steps off he was inaudible. His
+features were, so to speak, petrified; he ate little, principally black
+bread; he never bought white bread or spirits; my belief is, he never
+had had any money, and that he couldn't have counted it if he had. He
+was indifferent to everything. Sometimes he fed the prison dogs with his
+own hand, a thing no one else was known to do; (speaking generally,
+Russians don't like giving dogs things to eat from the hand). People
+said that he had been married, twice even, and that he had children
+somewhere. Why he had been sent as a convict, I have not the least idea.
+We fellows were always fancying that he would escape; but his hour did
+not come, or perhaps had come and gone; anyhow, he went through with his
+punishment without resistance. He seemed an element quite foreign to the
+medium wherein he had his being, an alien, self-concentrated creature.
+Still, there was nothing in this deep surface calm which could be
+trusted; yet, after all, what good would it have been to him to escape
+from the place?
+
+Compared with life at the convict prison, the vagabond age of the
+forests is as the joys of Paradise. The tramp's lot is wretched enough,
+but at least free. So it is that every prisoner all over the soil of
+Russia, becomes restless with the first rays of the smiling spring.
+
+Comparatively few form any settled plan for flight, they fear the
+hindrances in the way and the punishment that may ensue; only one in a
+hundred, not more, make up his mind to it, but how to do it is a thought
+that never ceases to haunt the minds of the ninety-nine others. Filled
+as they are with this longing, anything that looks like giving a chance
+of success is a comfort to them; then they set about comparing the facts
+with cases of successful escape. I speak only of prisoners after and
+under sentence, for prisoners not yet tried and condemned, are much more
+ready to try at an escape. And those who have been sentenced, rarely
+get away unless they attempt it in early days. When they have spent two
+or three years of their time, they put them to a sort of credit-account
+in their minds, and conclude that it is better to finish with the law
+and be put on land as a free man, rather than forfeit that time if they
+fail in escaping, which is always a possibility. Certainly not more than
+one convict in ten succeeds in _changing his lot_. Those who do, are
+nearly always men sentenced to an extremely long punishment, or for
+life. Fifteen, twenty years seem like an eternity to them. Then there is
+the branding, which is a great difficulty in the way of complete escape.
+
+_Changing your lot_ is a technical expression. When a convict is caught
+trying to escape, he is subjected to formal interrogatory, and will say
+he wanted to _change his lot_. This somewhat literary formula exactly
+represents the act in question. No escaped prisoner ever hopes to become
+a perfectly free man, for he knows that it is nearly impossible; what he
+looks for is to be sent to some other convict establishment, or to be
+put on the land, or to be tried again for some offence committed when on
+the tramp; in a word, to be sent anywhere else, it matters not where, so
+that he get out of his present prison which has become insufferable to
+him. All these fugitives, unless they find some unexpected shelter for
+the winter, unless they meet some one interested in concealing them, or
+if--last resort--they cannot procure--and sometimes a murder does
+it--the legal document, which enables them to go about unmolested
+everywhere; all these fugitives present themselves in crowds, during the
+autumn, in the towns and at the prisons; they confess themselves to be
+escaped tramps, pass the winter in jail, and live in the secret hope of
+getting away the following summer.
+
+On me, as well as others, the spring exercised its influence. Well do I
+remember the avidity with which my gaze fed upon the horizon through the
+gaps in the palisades; long, long did I stand with my head glued to the
+pickets, obstinately and insatiably gazing on the grass greening in the
+ditch surrounding the fortress, and at the blue of the distant sky as it
+grew denser and denser. My anguish, my melancholy, were heavier on me;
+as each day wore away the jail became odious, detestable. Hatred for me,
+as a man of the nobility, filled the hearts of the convicts during these
+first years, and this feeling of theirs simply poisoned my life for me.
+Often did I ask to be sent to the hospital, when there was no need of
+it, merely to be out of the punishment part of the place, to feel myself
+out of the range of this unrelenting and implacable hostility.
+
+"You nobles have beaks of iron, and you tore us to pieces with your
+beaks when we were serfs," is what the convicts used to say to us. How I
+envied the people of the lower class who came into the place as
+prisoners! It was different with them, they were in comradeship with all
+there from the very first moment. So was it that in the spring, Freedom
+showing herself as a sort of phantom of the season, the joy diffused
+throughout all Nature, translated themselves within my soul into a more
+than doubled melancholy and nervous irritability.
+
+As the sixth week of Lent came I had to go through my religious
+exercises, for the convicts were divided by the sub-superintendent into
+seven sections--answering to the weeks in Lent--and these had to attend
+to their devotions according to this roster. Each section was composed
+of about thirty men. This week was a great solace to me; we went two or
+three times a day to the church, which was close to the prison. I had
+not been in church for a long time. The Lenten services, familiar to me
+from early childhood in my father's house, the solemn prayers, the
+prostrations--all stirred in me the fibres of the memory of things long,
+long past, and woke my earliest impressions to fresh life. Well do I
+remember how happy I was when at morn we went into God's house, treading
+the ground which had frozen in the night, under the escort of soldiers
+with loaded guns; the escort remained outside the church.
+
+Once within we were massed close to the door so that we could scarcely
+hear anything except the deep voice of the ministering deacon; now and
+again we caught a glimpse of a black chasuble or the bare head of the
+priest. Then it came into my mind how, when a child, I used to look at
+the common people who formed a compact mass at the door, and how they
+would step back in a servile way before some important epauletted
+fellow, or some nobleman with a big paunch, some lady splendidly dressed
+and of high devotion who, in a hurry to get at the front benches, and
+ready for a row if there was any difficulty as to their being honoured
+with the best of places. As it seemed to me then, it was only _there_,
+near the church door, not far from the entry, that prayer was put up
+with genuine fervour and humility, only there that, when people did
+prostrate themselves on the floor it was done with real abasement of
+self and full sense of unworthiness.
+
+And now I myself was in that place of the common people, no, not in
+their place, for we who were there were in chains and degradation.
+Everybody kept himself at a distance from us. We were feared, and alms
+were put in our hands as if we were beggars; I remember that all this
+gave me the strange sensation of a refined and subtle pleasure. "Let it
+even be so!" such was my thought. The convicts prayed with deep fervour;
+every one of them had with him his poor farthing for a little candle, or
+for their collection for the church expenses. "I too, I am a man," each
+one of them perhaps said, as he made his offering; "before God we are
+all equal."
+
+After the six o'clock mass we went up to communion. When the priest,
+_ciforium_ in hand, recited the words, "Have mercy on me as Thou hadst
+on the thief whom Thou didst save," nearly all the convicts prostrated
+themselves, and their chains clanked; I think they took these words
+literally as applied to themselves, and not as being in Scripture.
+
+Holy Week came. The authorities presented each of us with an Easter egg,
+and a small piece of wheaten bread. The townspeople loaded us with
+benevolences. As at Christmas there was the priest's visitation with
+the cross, inspecting visit of the heads of departments, larded cabbage,
+general enlargement of soul, and unlimited lounging, the only difference
+being, that one could now walk about in the court-yard, and warm oneself
+in the sun. Everything seemed filled with more light, larger than in the
+winter, but also more fraught with sadness. The long, endless, summer
+days seemed peculiarly unbearable on Church holidays. Work days were at
+least shortened to our sense by the fatigue of work.
+
+Our summer labours were much more trying than the winter tasks; our
+business was principally that of carrying out engineering works. The
+convicts were set to building, digging, bricklaying, or repairing
+Government buildings, locksmith's work, or carpentering, or painting.
+Others went into the brick-fields, and that was looked upon by us as the
+hardest of all we had laid on us. The brick-fields were situated about
+four versts from the fortress; through all the summer they sent there,
+every morning at six o'clock, a gang of fifty convicts. For this gang
+they used to pick out workmen who had learned no trade in particular.
+The convicts took with them their bread for the day, the distance was
+too great for them to come back, eight useless versts, for dinner with
+the others, so they had a meal when they returned in the evening.
+
+Work was assigned to each for the day, but there was so much of it that
+it was all a man could do, nay, more, to get to the end of it. First, we
+had to dig and carry the clay, moisten it, and mould it in the ditch,
+and then make a goodly quantity of bricks, two hundred or so, sometimes
+fifty more than that. I was only twice sent to the brick-field. The
+convicts sent to this labour came back in the evening dead tired, and
+every one of them complained of the others, that he had had the worst of
+the work put on him. I believe that reproaches of this kind were a
+pleasure, a consolation to them. Some of them, however, liked the
+brick-field work, because they got away from the town, and to the banks
+of the Irtych into open, agreeable country, with the sky overhead; the
+surroundings were more agreeable than those frightful Government
+buildings. They were allowed to smoke there in all freedom, and to
+remain lying down for half-an-hour or so, which was a great pleasure.
+
+As for me, I was sent to one of the shops, or else to pound up
+alabaster, or to carry bricks, which last job I had for two months
+together. I had to take my tale of bricks from the banks of the Irtych
+to a distance of about 140 yards, and to pass the ditch of the fortress
+before getting to the barrack which they were putting up. This work
+suited me well enough, although the cord with which I carried my bricks
+sawed my shoulders; what particularly pleased me was that my strength
+increased sensibly. At the outset I could not carry more than eight
+bricks at once; each of them weighed about twelve pounds. I got to be
+able to carry twelve, or even fifteen, which delighted me much. You
+wanted physical as well as moral strength to be able to bear all the
+discomforts of that accursed life.
+
+There was this, too: I wanted, when I left the place, really to live,
+not to be half-dead. I took pleasure in carrying my bricks, then; it was
+not merely that this labour strengthened my body, but because it took me
+always to the banks of the Irtych. I speak often of this spot, it was
+the only one where we saw God's _own_ world, a pure and bright horizon,
+the free desert steppes, whose bareness always produced a strange
+impression on me. All the other workyards were in the fortress itself,
+or in its neighbourhood; and the fortress, from the earliest days I was
+there, was the object of my hatred, and, above all, its appurtenant
+buildings. The house of the Major Commandant seemed to me a repulsive,
+accursed place. I never could pass it without casting upon it a look of
+detestation; while at the river-bank I could forget my miserable self as
+I sent my gaze over the immense desert space, just as a prisoner may
+when he looks at the world of freedom through the barred casement of his
+dungeon. Everything in that place was dear and gracious to my eyes; the
+sun shining in the infinite blue of heaven, the distant song of the
+Kirghiz that came from the opposite bank.
+
+Sometimes I would fix my sight for a long while upon the poor smoky
+cabin of some _baigouch_; I would study the bluish smoke as it curled in
+the air, the Kirghiz woman busy with her two sheep.... The things I saw
+were wild, savage, poverty-stricken; but they were free. I would follow
+the flight of a bird threading its way in the pure transparent air; now
+it skims the water, now disappears in the azure sky, now suddenly comes
+to view again, a mere point in space. Even the poor wee floweret fading
+in a cleft of the bank, which would show itself when spring began, fixed
+my attention and would draw my tears.... The melancholy of this first
+year of convict life and hard labour was unendurable, too much for my
+strength. The anguish of it was so great, I could not notice my
+immediate surroundings at all; I merely shut my eyes and would not see.
+Among the creatures with spoiled lives with whom I had to live, I did
+not yet note those who were capable of thinking and feeling, in spite of
+their external repulsiveness. There came not to my ears (or if there did
+I knew it not) one word of kindliness in the midst of the rain of
+poisonous talk that came down all the time. Still one such utterance
+there was, simple, straightforward, of pure motive, and it came from the
+heart of a man who had suffered and endured more than myself. But it is
+useless to enlarge on this.
+
+The great fatigue I underwent was a source of satisfaction, it gave me
+hope of sound sleep. During the summer sleep was torment, more
+intolerable than the closeness and infection winter brought with it.
+Some of the nights were certainly very beautiful. The sun, which had not
+ceased to inundate the court-yard all the day, hid itself at last. The
+air freshened, and the night, the night of the steppe, became
+comparatively cold. The convicts, until shut up in their barracks,
+walked about in groups, especially on the kitchen side; for that was the
+place where questions of general interest were by preference discussed,
+and comments were made upon the rumours from without, often absurd
+indeed, but always keenly exciting to these men cut off from the world.
+For example, we suddenly learn that our Major had been roughly dismissed
+from his post. Convicts are as credulous as children; they know the news
+to be false, or most unlikely, and that the fellow who brings it is a
+past master in the art of lying, Kvassoff; for all that they clutch at
+the nonsensical story, go into high delight over it, are much consoled,
+and at last quite ashamed to have been duped by a Kvassoff.
+
+"I should like to know who'll show _him_ the door?" cries one convict;
+"don't you fear, he's a fellow who knows how to stick on."
+
+"But," says another, "he has his superiors over him." This one is a warm
+controversialist, and has seen the world.
+
+"Wolves don't feed on one another," says a third gloomily, half to
+himself. _This_ one is an old fellow, growing gray, and he always takes
+his sour cabbage soup into a corner, and eats it there.
+
+"Do you think his superiors will take _your_ advice whether they shall
+show him the door or not?" adds a fourth, who doesn't seem to care about
+it at all, giving a stroke to his balalaika.
+
+"Well, why not?" replies the second angrily; "if you _are_ asked, answer
+what's in your mind. But no, with us fellows it's all mere cry, and when
+you ought to go at things with a will, everybody sneaks out."
+
+"That's _so_!" says the one playing with the balalaika. "Hard labour and
+prison are just the things to cause _that_."
+
+"It was like that the other day," says the second one, without hearing
+the remark made to him. "There was a little wheat left, sweepings, a
+mere nothing; there was some idea of turning the refuse into money;
+well, look here, they took it to him, and he confiscated it. All
+economy, you see. Was that _so_, and was it right--yes or no?"
+
+"But whom can you complain to?"
+
+"To whom? Why, the 'spector (_Inspector_) who's coming."
+
+"What 'spector?"
+
+"It's true, pals, a 'spector is coming soon," said a youthful convict,
+who had got some sort of knowledge, had read the "Duchesse de la
+Valliere," or some book of that sort, and who had been Quartermaster in
+a regiment; a bit of a wag, whom, as a man of information, the convicts
+held in a sort of respect. Without paying the least attention to the
+exciting debate, he goes straight to the cook, and asks him for some
+liver. Our cooks often deal in victuals of that kind; they used to buy a
+whole liver, cut it in pieces, and sell it to the other convicts.
+
+"Two kopecks' worth, or four?" asks cook.
+
+"A four-kopeck cut; I'll eat, the others shall look on and long," says
+this convict. "Yes, pals, a general, a real general, is coming from
+Petersburg to 'spect all Siberia; it's so, heard it at the Governor's
+place."
+
+This news produces an extraordinary effect. For a quarter of an hour
+they ask each other who this General can be? what's his title? whether
+his grade is higher than that of the Generals of our town? The convicts
+delight in discussing ranks and degrees, in finding out who's at the
+head of things, who can make the other officials crook their backs, and
+to whom he crooks his own; so they get up an argument and quarrel about
+their Generals, and rude words fly about, all in honour of these high
+officers--fights, too, sometimes. What interest can _they_ possibly have
+in it? When one hears convicts speaking of Generals and high officials
+one gets a measure of their intelligence as they were while still in the
+world before the prison days. It cannot be concealed that among our
+people, even in much higher circles, talk about generals and high
+officials is looked upon as the most serious and refined conversation.
+
+"Well, you see, they _have_ sent our Major to the right about, don't
+ye?" observes Kvassoff, a little, rubicund, choleric, small-brained
+fellow, the same who had announced the supersession of the Major.
+
+"We'll just grease their palm for them," this, in staccato tones from
+the morose old fellow in the corner who had finished his sour cabbage
+soup.
+
+"I should think he would grease their palms, by Jove," says another; "he
+has stolen money enough, the brigand. And, only think, he was only a
+regimental Major before he came here. He's feathered his nest. Why, a
+little while ago he was engaged to the head priest's daughter."
+
+"But he didn't get married; they turned him off, and that shows he's
+poor. A pretty sort of fellow to get engaged! He's got nothing but the
+coat on his back; last year, Easter time, he lost all he had at cards.
+Fedka told me so."
+
+"Well, well, pals, I've been married myself, but it's a bad thing for a
+poor devil; taking a wife is soon done, but the fun of it is more like
+an inch than a mile," observes Skouratoff, who had just joined in the
+general talk.
+
+"Do you fancy we're going to amuse ourselves by discussing _you_?" says
+the ex-quartermaster in a superior manner. "Kvassoff, I tell you you're
+a big idiot! If you fancy that the Major can grease the palm of an
+Inspector-General you've got things finely muddled; d'ye fancy they send
+a man from Petersburg just to inspect your Major? You're a precious
+dolt, my lad; take it from me that it is so."
+
+"And you fancy because he's a General he doesn't take what's offered?"
+said some one in the crowd in a sceptical tone.
+
+"I should think he did indeed, and plenty of it whenever he can."
+
+"A dead sure thing that; gets bigger, and more, and worse, the higher
+the rank."
+
+"A General _always_ has his palm greased," says Kvassoff, sententiously.
+
+"Did _you_ ever give them money, as you're so sure of it?" asks
+Baklouchin, suddenly striking in, in a tone of contempt; "come, now, did
+you ever see a General in all your life?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Liar!"
+
+"Liar, yourself!"
+
+"Well, boys, as he _has_ seen a General, let him say _which_. Come,
+quick about it; I know 'em all, every man jack."
+
+"I've seen General Zibert," says Kvassoff in tones far from sure.
+
+"Zibert! There's no General of that name. That's the General, perhaps,
+who was looking at your back when they gave you the cat. This Zibert
+was, perhaps, a Lieutenant-Colonel; but you were in such a fright just
+then, you took him for a General."
+
+"No! Just hear me," cries Skouratoff, "for I've got a wife. There was
+really a General of that name, a German, but a Russian subject. He
+confessed to the Pope, every year, all about his peccadilloes with gay
+women, and drank water like a duck, at least forty glasses of Moskva
+water one after the other; that was the way he got cured of some
+disease. I had it from his valet."
+
+"I say! And the carp didn't swim in his belly?" this from the convict
+with the balalaika.
+
+"Be quiet, fellows, can't you--one's talking seriously, and there they
+are beginning their nonsense again. Who's the 'spector that's coming?"
+This was put by a convict who always seemed full of business, Martinof,
+an old man who had been in the Hussars.
+
+"Set of lying fellows!" said one of the doubters. "Lord knows where they
+get it all from; it's all empty talk."
+
+"It's nothing of the sort," observes Koulikoff, majestically silent
+hitherto, in dogmatic tones. "The man coming is big and fat, about fifty
+years, with regular features, and proud, contemptuous manners, on which
+he prides himself."
+
+Koulikoff is a Tsigan, a sort of veterinary surgeon, makes money by
+treating horses in town, and sells wine in our prison. He's no fool,
+plenty of brain, memory well stocked, lets his words fall as carefully
+as if every one of 'em was worth a rouble.
+
+"It's true," he went on very calmly, "I heard of it only last week; it's
+a General with bigger epaulettes than most, and he's going to inspect
+all Siberia. They grease his palm well for him, that's sure enough; but
+not our Major with his eight eyes in his head. He won't dare to creep in
+about _him_, for you see, pals, there are Generals and Generals, as
+there are fagots and fagots. It's just this, and you may take it from
+me, our Major will remain where he is. _We're_ fellows with no tongue,
+we've no right to speak; and as to our chiefs here, they're not going to
+say a word against him. The 'spector will come into our jail, give a
+look round, and go off at once; he'll say it was all right."
+
+"Yes, but the Major's in a fright; he's been drunk since morning."
+
+"And this evening he had two van-loads of things taken away; Fedka says
+so."
+
+"You may scrub a nigger, he'll never be white. Is it the first time
+you've seen him drunk, hey?"
+
+"No! It will be a devil of a shame if the General does nothing to him,"
+said the convicts, who began to get highly excited.
+
+The news of the arrival of the Inspector went through the prison. The
+prisoners went everywhere about the court-yard retailing the important
+fact. Some held their tongues and kept cool, trying to look important;
+some were really indifferent to it. Some of the convicts sat down on the
+steps of the doors to play the balalaika, while some went on with their
+gossip. Some groups were singing in a drawling voice, but the whole
+court-yard was upset and excited generally.
+
+About nine o'clock they counted us, and quartered us in our barracks,
+which were closed for the night. A short summer night it was, so we were
+roused up at five o'clock in the morning, yet nobody had managed to
+sleep before eleven, for up to that hour there was conversation and all
+sort of movement was going on; sometimes, too, games of cards were made
+up, as in winter. The heat was intolerable, stifling. True, the open
+window let in some of the cool night air, but the convicts kept tossing
+themselves on their wooden beds as if delirious.
+
+Fleas countless. There were enough of them in winter; but when spring
+came they multiplied in proportions so formidable that I couldn't
+believe it before I had to endure them. And as the summer went on the
+worse it was with them. I found out that one _could_ get used to fleas;
+but for all that, the torment of them is so great that it throws you
+into a fever; even when you get slumber you quite feel it is not sleep,
+you are half delirious, and know it.
+
+At last, towards morning, when the enemy is tired and you are
+deliciously asleep in the freshness of the early hours, suddenly sounds
+the pitiless morning drum-call. How you curse as you hear them, those
+sharp, quick strokes; you cower in your semi-pelisse, and then--you
+can't help it--comes the thought that it will be so to-morrow, the day
+after, for many, many years, till you are set at liberty. When _will_ it
+come, this freedom, freedom? Where _is_ it in this world? _Where_ is it
+hiding? You _have_ to get up, they are walking about you in all
+directions. The usual noisy row begins. The convicts dress, and hurry
+to their work. It's true you have an hour you can spend in sleep at
+noon.
+
+What we had been told about the Inspector was really true. The reports
+were more confirmed every day; and at last it became certain that a
+General, high in office, was coming from Petersburg to inspect all
+Siberia, that he was already at Tobolsk. Every day we learned something
+fresh about it. These rumours came from the town. They told us that
+there was alarm in all quarters, and that everybody was making
+preparations to show himself in as favourable a light as might be. The
+authorities were organising receptions, balls, fetes of every kind.
+Gangs of convicts were sent to level the ways in the fortress, smooth
+away hummocks in the ground, paint the palings and other wood-work, to
+plaster, do up, and generally repair everything that was conspicuous.
+
+Our prisoners perfectly well understood the object of this labour, and
+their discussions became all the more animated and excited. Their
+imaginations passed all bounds. They even set about formulating some
+demands to be set before the General on his arrival, but that did not
+prevent their going on with their quarrels and violent speeches. Our
+Major was on hot coals. He came continually to visit the jail, shouted,
+and threw himself angrily on the fellows more than usual, sent them to
+the guard-room and punishment for a mere nothing, and watched very
+severely over the cleanliness and good order of the barracks. Just then,
+there occurred a little event which did not at all painfully affect this
+officer as one might have expected, but, on the contrary, caused him a
+lively satisfaction. One of the convicts struck another with an awl
+right in the chest, in a place quite near the heart.
+
+The delinquent's name was Lomof; the name the victim was known by in the
+jail was Gavrilka. He was one of those seasoned tramps I've spoken about
+earlier. Whether he had any other name, I don't know; I never heard any
+attributed to him, except that one, Gavrilka.
+
+Lomof had been a peasant comfortably off in the Government of T----,
+and district of K----. There were five of them living together, two
+brothers Lomof, and three sons. They were quite rich peasants; the talk
+throughout the district was that they had more than 300,000 roubles in
+paper money. They worked at currying and tanning; but their chief
+business was usury, harbouring tramps, and receiving stolen goods; all
+sorts of petty irregular doings. Half the peasants of their district
+owed them money, and so were in their clutches. They passed for being
+intelligent and full of cunning, and gave themselves very great airs. A
+great personage of their province had stopped on his way once at the
+father Lomof's house, and this official had taken a fancy to him,
+because of his hardy and unscrupulous talk. Then they took it in their
+heads they might do exactly as they pleased, and mixed themselves up
+more and more with illegal doings. Everybody had a grievance against
+them, and would like to have seen them a hundred feet under the ground;
+but they got bolder and bolder every day. They were not afraid of the
+local police or the district tribunals.
+
+At last fortune betrayed them; their ruin came, not out of their secret
+crimes, but from an accusation which was all calumny and falsehood. Ten
+versts from their hamlet they had a farm where six Kirghiz labourers,
+long since brought down by them to be no better than slaves, used to
+pass the autumn. One fine day these Kirghiz were found murdered. An
+inquiry was set on foot that lasted long, thanks to which no end of
+atrocious things were brought to light. The Lomofs were accused of
+having assassinated their workmen. They had themselves told their story
+to the convicts, all the jail knew it perfectly; they were suspected of
+owing a great deal of money to the Kirghiz, and, as they were full of
+greed and avarice in spite of their large fortunes, it was believed they
+had paid the debt by taking the lives of the poor fellows. While the
+inquiry and trial went on, their property melted away utterly. The
+father died, the sons were transported; one of these, with the uncle,
+was condemned to fifteen years of hard labour.
+
+Now, they were perfectly innocent of the crime imputed to them. One fine
+day Gavrilka, a thorough-paced rascal, known as a tramp, but of very gay
+and lively turn, avowed himself the author of the crime. As a matter of
+fact I don't know whether he actually made this avowal himself, but what
+is sure is that the convicts held him to be the murderer of the Kirghiz.
+
+This Gavrilka, while still tramping about, had been mixed up in some way
+with the Lomofs (his confinement in one jail was for quite a short
+sentence, for desertion from the army and tramping). He had cut the
+throats of the Kirghiz--three other marauding fellows had been in it
+with him--in the hope of setting themselves up a bit with the plunder of
+the farm.
+
+The Lomofs were no favourites with us, I really don't know why. One of
+them, the nephew, was a sturdy fellow, intelligent and sociable; but his
+uncle, the one that struck Gavrilka with the awl, was a choleric, stupid
+rustic, always quarrelling with the convicts, who knocked him about like
+plaster. All the jail liked Gavrilka for his gaiety and good-humour. The
+Lomofs got to know, like the rest, that he was the man who committed the
+crime they were condemned for; but they never got into any quarrel with
+him. Gavrilka paid no attention whatever to them.
+
+The row with Uncle Lomof began about some disgusting girl they had
+quarrelled over. Gavrilka had boasted of the favour she had shown him.
+The peasant, mad with jealousy, ended by driving an awl into his chest.
+
+Although the Lomofs had been ruined by their trial and sentence, they
+passed in the jail for being very rich. They had money, a samovar, and
+drank tea. Our Major knew all about it, and hated the two Lomofs,
+sparing them no vexation. The victims of his hate explained it by a
+desire to have them grease his palm well, but they could not, or would
+not, bring themselves to do it.
+
+If Uncle Lomof had struck his awl one hair's breadth further in
+Gavrilka's breast he would certainly have killed him; as it was, the
+wound did not much signify. The affair was reported to the Major. I
+think I see him now as he came up out of breath, but with visible
+satisfaction. He addressed Gavrilka in an affable, fatherly way:
+
+"Tell me, lad, can you walk to the hospital or must they carry you
+there? No, I think it will be better to have a horse; let them put a
+horse to this moment!" he cried out to the sub-officer with a gasp.
+
+"But I don't feel it at all, your worship; he's only given me a bit of a
+prick, your worship."
+
+"You don't know, my dear fellow, you don't know; you'll see. A nasty
+place he's struck you in. All depends upon the place. He has given it
+you just below the heart, the scoundrel. Wait, wait!" he howled to
+Lomof. "I've got you tight; take him to the guard-house."
+
+He kept his promise. Lomof was tried, and, though the wound was slight,
+there was plainly malice aforethought; his sentence of hard labour was
+extended for several years, and they gave him a thousand strokes with
+the rod. The Major was delighted.
+
+The Inspector arrived at last.
+
+The day after he reached the town, he came to the convict establishment
+to make his inspection. It was a regular fete-day. For some days
+everything had been brilliantly clean, washed with great precision. The
+convicts were all just shaven, their linen quite white and without a
+stain. (According to the regulations, they wore in summer waistcoats and
+pantaloons of canvas. Every one had a round black piece sown in at the
+back, eight centimetres in diameter.) For a whole hour the prisoners had
+been drilled as to what they should answer, the very words to be used,
+particularly if the high functionary should take any notice of them.
+
+There had been even regular rehearsals. The Major seemed to have lost
+his head. An hour before the coming in of the Inspector, all the
+convicts were at their posts, as stiff as statues, with their little
+fingers on the seams of their pantaloons. At last, just about one
+o'clock the Inspector made his entry. He was a General, with a most
+self-sufficing bearing, so much so, that the mere sight of it must have
+sent a tremor into the hearts of all the officials of West Siberia.
+
+He came in with a stern and majestic air, followed by a crowd of
+Generals and Colonels doing service in our town. There was a civilian,
+too, of high stature and regular features, in frock-coat and shoes. This
+personage bore himself very independently and airily, and the General
+addressed him every moment with exquisite politeness. This civilian also
+had come from Petersburg. All the convicts were terribly curious as to
+who he could be, such an important General showing him such deference?
+We learned who he was and what his office later, but he was a good deal
+talked about before we knew.
+
+Our Major, all spick and span, with orange-coloured collar, made no too
+favourable impression upon the General; the blood-shot eyes and fiery
+rubicund complexion plainly told their own story. Out of respect for his
+superior he had taken off his spectacles, and stood some way off, as
+straight as a dart, in feverish expectation that something would be
+asked of him, that he might run and carry out His Excellency's wishes;
+but no particular need of his services seemed to be felt.
+
+The General went all through the barracks without saying a word, threw a
+glance into the kitchen, where he tasted the sour cabbage soup. They
+pointed me out to him, telling him that I was an ex-nobleman, who had
+done this, that, and the other.
+
+"Ah!" answered the General. "And how does he conduct himself?"
+
+"Satisfactorily for the time being, your Excellency, satisfactorily."
+
+The General nodded, and left the jail in a couple of minutes more. The
+convicts were dazzled and disappointed, and did not know what to be at.
+As to laying complaints against the Major, that was quite over, could
+not be thought of. He had, no doubt, been quite well assured as to this
+beforehand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE ANIMALS AT THE CONVICT ESTABLISHMENT
+
+
+Gniedko, a bay horse, was bought a little while afterwards, and the
+event furnished a much more agreeable and interesting diversion to the
+convicts than the visit of the high personage I have been talking about.
+We required a horse at the jail for carrying water, refuse matter, etc.
+He was given to a convict to take care of and use; this man drove him,
+under escort, of course. Our horse had plenty to do morning and night;
+it was a worthy sort of beast, but a good deal worn, and had been in
+service for a long time already.
+
+One fine morning, the eve of St. Peter's Day, Gniedko, our bay, who was
+dragging a barrel of water, fell all of a heap, and gave up the ghost in
+a few minutes. He was much regretted, so all the convicts gathered round
+him to discuss his death. Those who had served in the cavalry, the
+Tsigans, the veterinary fellows, and others, showed a profound knowledge
+of horses in general and fiercely argued the question; but all that did
+not bring our bay horse to life again; there he was stretched out and
+dead, with his belly all swollen. Every one thought it incumbent on him
+to feel about the poor thing with his hands; finally the Major was
+informed of what Providence had done in the horse's case, and it was
+decided that another should be bought at once.
+
+St. Peter's Day, quite early after mass, all the convicts being
+together, horses that were on sale were brought in. It was left to the
+prisoners to choose an animal, for there were some thorough experts
+among them, and it would have been difficult to take in 250 men, with
+whom horse-dealing had been a speciality. Tsigans, Lesghians,
+professional horse-dealers, townsmen, came in to deal. The convicts were
+exceedingly eager about the matter as each fresh horse was brought up,
+and were as amused as children about it all. It seemed to tickle their
+fancy very much, that they had to buy a horse like free men, just as if
+it was for themselves and the money was to come out of their own
+pockets. Three horses were brought and taken away before purchase; the
+fourth was settled on. The horse-dealers seemed astonished and a little
+awed at the soldiers of the escort who watched the business. Two hundred
+men, clean shaven, branded as they were, with chains on their feet, were
+well calculated to inspire respect, all the more as they were in their
+own place, at home so to speak, in their own convict's den, where nobody
+was ever allowed to come.
+
+Our fellows seemed to be up to no end of tricks for finding out the real
+value of a horse brought up; they carefully examined it, handled it with
+the most serious demeanour, went on as if the welfare of the
+establishment was bound up with the purchase of this beast. The
+Circassians took the liberty of jumping upon his back: their eyes shone
+wildly, they chatted rapidly in their incomprehensible dialect, showed
+their white teeth, dilating the nostrils of their hooked copper-coloured
+noses. There were some Russians who paid the most lively attention to
+their discussion, and seemed ready to jump down their throats; they did
+not understand a word, but it was plain they did what they could to
+gather from the expression of the eyes of the fellows whether the horse
+was good or not. But what could it matter to a convict, especially to
+some of them, who were creatures altogether down and done for, who never
+ventured to utter a single word to the others? What _could_ it matter to
+such as these, whether one horse or another was bought? Yet it seemed as
+if it did. The Circassians appeared to be most relied on for their
+opinion, and besides these a foremost place in the discussion was given
+to the Tsigans, and those who had formerly been horse-dealers.
+
+There was a regular sort of duel between two convicts--the Tsigan
+Koulikoff, who had been a horse-dealer and stealer, and another who had
+been a professional veterinary, a tricky Siberian peasant, who had been
+at the establishment and at hard labour for some time, and who had
+succeeded in getting all Koulikoff's practice in the town. I ought to
+mention that the veterinary practitioners at the prison, though without
+diploma, were very much sought after, and that not only the townspeople
+and tradespeople, but high officials in the city, took their advice when
+their horses fell ill, rather than that of several regularly
+diplomatised veterinaries who were at the place.
+
+Till Jolkin came, the Siberian peasant Koulikoff had had plenty of
+clients from whom he had had fees in good hard cash. He was looked on as
+quite at the head of his business. He was a Tsigan all over in his
+doings, liar and cheat, and not at all the master of his art he boasted
+of being. The income he made had raised him to be a sort of aristocrat
+among our convicts; he was listened to and obeyed, but he spoke little,
+and expressed an opinion only in great emergencies. He blew his own
+trumpet loudly, but he really was a fellow of great energy; he was of
+ripe age, and of quite marked intelligence. When he spoke to us of the
+nobility, he did so with exquisite politeness and perfect dignity. I am
+sure that if he had been suitably dressed, and introduced into a club at
+the capital with the title of Count, he would have lived up to it;
+played whist, talked to admiration like a man used to command, and one
+who knew when to hold his tongue. I am sure that the whole evening would
+have passed without any one guessing that the "Count" was nothing but a
+vagabond. He had very probably had a very large and varied experience in
+life; as to his past, it was quite unknown to us. They kept him among
+the convicts who formed a special section reserved from the others.
+
+But no sooner had Jolkin come--he was a simple peasant, one of the "old
+believers," but just as tricky as it was possible for a moujik to
+be--the veterinary glory of Koulikoff paled sensibly. In less than two
+months the Siberian had got from him all his town practice, for he cured
+in a very short time horses Koulikoff had declared incurable, and which
+had been given up by the regular veterinaries. This peasant had been
+condemned and sent to hard labour for coining. It is an odd thing he
+should ever have been tempted to go into that line of business. He told
+us all about it himself, and joked about their wanting three coins of
+genuine gold to make one false.
+
+Koulikoff was not a little put out at this peasant's success, while his
+own glory so rapidly declined. There was he who had had a mistress in
+the suburbs, who used to wear a plush jacket and top-boots, and here he
+was now obliged to turn tavern-keeper; so everybody looked out for a
+regular row when the new horse was bought. The thing was very
+interesting, each of them had his partisans; the more eager among them
+got to angry words about it on the spot. The cunning face of Jolkin was
+all wrinkled into a sarcastic smile; but it turned out quite differently
+from what was expected. Koulikoff had not the least desire for argument
+or dispute, he managed cunningly without that. At first he gave way on
+every point, and listened deferentially to his rival's criticisms, then
+he caught him up sharply on some remark or other, and pointed out to him
+modestly but firmly that he was all wrong. In a word, Jolkin was utterly
+discomfited in a surprisingly clever way, so Koulikoff's side was quite
+well pleased.
+
+"I say, boys, it's no use talking; you can't trip _him_ up. He knows
+what he is about," said some.
+
+"Jolkin knows more about the matter than he does," said others; not
+offensively, however. Both sides were ready to make concessions.
+
+"Then, he's got a lighter hand, besides having more in his head. I tell
+you that when it comes to stock, horses, or anything else, Koulikoff
+needn't duck under to anybody."
+
+"Nor need Jolkin, I tell you."
+
+"There's nobody like Koulikoff."
+
+The new horse was selected and bought. It was a capital gelding--young,
+vigorous, and handsome; an irreproachable beast altogether. The
+bargaining began. The owner asked thirty roubles; the convicts wouldn't
+give more than twenty-five. The higgling went on long and hotly. At
+length the convicts began laughing.
+
+"Does the money come out of your own purse?" said some. "What's the good
+of all this?"
+
+"Do you want to save for the Government cashbox?" cried others.
+
+"But it's money that belongs to us all, pals," said one.
+
+"Us all! It's plain enough that you needn't trouble to grow idiots,
+they'll come up of themselves without it."
+
+At last the business was settled at twenty-eight roubles. The Major was
+informed, the purchase sanctioned. Bread and salt were brought at once,
+and the new boarder led in triumph into the jail. There was not one of
+the convicts, I think, that did not pat his neck or caress his head.
+
+The day we got him he was at once put to fetching water. All the
+convicts gazed on him curiously as he pulled at his barrel.
+
+Our waterman, the convict Roman, kept his eyes on the beast with a
+stupid sort of satisfaction. He was formerly a peasant, about fifty
+years of age, serious and silent, like all the Russian coachmen, whose
+behaviour would really seem to acquire some extra gravity by reason of
+their being always with horses.
+
+Roman was a quiet creature, affable all round, said little, took snuff
+from a box. He had taken care of the horses at the jail for some time
+before that. The one just bought was the third given into his charge
+since he came to the place.
+
+The coachman's office fell, as a matter of course, to Roman; nobody
+would have dreamed of contesting his right to it. When the bay horse
+dropped and died, nobody dreamed of accusing Roman of imprudence, not
+even the Major. It was the will of God, that was all; as to Roman, he
+knew his business.
+
+That bay horse had become the pet of the jail at once. The convicts were
+not particularly tender fellows; but they could not help coming to pet
+him often.
+
+Sometimes when Roman, returning from the river, shut the great gate
+which the sub-officer had opened, Gniedko would stand quite still
+waiting for his driver, and turning to him as for orders.
+
+"Get along, you know the way," Roman would cry to him. Then Gniedko
+would go off peaceably to the kitchen and stop there, and the cooks and
+other servants of the place would fill their buckets with water, which
+Gniedko seemed to know all about.
+
+"Gniedko, you're a trump! He's brought his water-barrel himself. He's a
+delight to see!" they would cry to him.
+
+"That's true; he's only a beast, but he knows all that's said to him."
+
+"No end of a horse is our Gniedko!"
+
+Then the horse shook his head and snorted, just as if he really
+understood all about his being praised; then some one would bring him
+bread and salt; and when he had finished with them he would shake his
+head again, as if to say, "I know you; I know you. I'm a good horse,
+and you're a good fellow."
+
+I was quite fond of regaling Gniedko with bread. It was quite a pleasure
+to me to look at his nice mouth, and to feel his warm, moist lips
+licking up the crumbs from the palm of my hand.
+
+Our convicts were fond of live things, and if they had been allowed
+would have filled the barracks with birds and domestic animals. What
+could possibly have been better than attending to such creatures for
+raising and softening the wild temper of the prisoners? But it was not
+permitted; it was not in the regulations; and, truth to say, there was
+no room there for many creatures.
+
+However, in my time some animals had established themselves in the jail.
+Besides Gniedko, we had some dogs, geese, a he-goat--Vaska--and an
+eagle, which remained only a short time.
+
+I think I have said before that _our_ dog was called Bull, and that he
+and I had struck up a friendship; but as the lower orders regard dogs as
+impure animals undeserving of attention, nobody minded him. He lived in
+the jail itself; slept in the court-yard; ate the leavings of the
+kitchen, and had no hold whatever on the sympathy of the convicts; all
+of whom he knew, however, and regarded as masters and owners. When the
+men assigned to work came back to the jail, at the cry of "Corporal," he
+used to run to the great gate and gaily welcome the gang, wagging his
+tail and looking into every man's eyes, as though he expected a caress.
+But for several years his little ways were as useless as they were
+engaging. Nobody but myself did caress him; so I was the one he
+preferred to all others. Somehow--I don't know in what way--we got
+another dog. Snow he was called. As to the third, Koultiapka, I brought
+him myself to the place when he was but a pup.
+
+Our Snow was a strange creature. A telega had gone over him and driven
+in his spine, so that it made a curve inside him. When you saw him
+running at a distance, he looked like twin-dogs born with a ligament. He
+was very mangy, too, with bleary eyes, and his tail was hairless, and
+always hanging between his legs.
+
+Victim of ill-fate as he was, he seemed to have made up his mind to be
+always as impassive as possible; so he never barked at anybody, for he
+seemed to be afraid of getting into some fresh trouble. He was nearly
+always lurking at the back of the buildings; and if anybody came near he
+rolled on his back at once, as though he meant to say, "Do what you like
+with me; I've not the least idea of resisting you." And every convict,
+when the dog upset himself like that, would give him a passing
+obligatory kick, with "Ouh! the dirty brute!" But Snow dared not so much
+as give a groan; and if he was too much hurt, would only utter a little,
+dull, strangled yelp. He threw himself down just the same way before
+Bull or any other dog when he came to try his luck at the kitchen; and
+he would stretch himself out flat if a mastiff or any other big dog came
+barking at him. Dogs like submission and humility in other dogs; so the
+angry brute quieted down at once, and stopped short reflectively before
+the poor, humble beast, and then sniffed him curiously all over.
+
+I wonder what poor Snow, trembling with fright, used to think at such
+moments. "Is this brigand of a fellow going to bite me?"--no doubt
+something like that. When he had sniffed enough at him, the big brute
+left him at once, having probably discovered nothing in particular. Snow
+used then to jump to his feet, and join a lot of four-footed fellows
+like him who were running down some yutchka or other.
+
+Snow knew quite well that no yutchka would ever condescend to the like
+of him, that she was too proud for that, but it was some consolation to
+him in his troubles to limp after her. As to decent behaviour, he had
+but a very vague notion of any such thing. Being totally without any
+hope in his future, his highest aim was to get a bellyful of victuals,
+and he was cynical enough in showing that it was so.
+
+Once I tried to caress him. This was such an unexpected and new thing to
+him that he plumped down on the ground quite helplessly, and quivered
+and whined in his delight. As I was really sorry for him I used to
+caress him often, so as soon as he caught sight of me he began to whine
+in a plaintive, tearful way. He came to his end at the back of the jail,
+in the ditch; some dogs tore him to pieces.
+
+Koultiapka was quite a different style of dog. I don't know why I
+brought him in from one of the workshops, where he was just born; but it
+gave me pleasure to feed him, and see him grow big. Bull took Koultiapka
+under his protection, and slept with him. When the young dog began to
+grow up, Bull was remarkably complaisant with him. He allowed the pup to
+bite his ears, and pull his skin with his teeth; he played with him as
+mature dogs are in the habit of doing with the youngsters. It was a
+strange thing, but Koultiapka never grew in height at all, only in
+length and breadth. His hide was fluffy and mouse-coloured; one of his
+ears hung down, while the other was always cocked up. He was, like all
+young dogs, ardent and enthusiastic, yelping with pleasure when he saw
+his master, and jumping up to lick his face precisely as if he said: "As
+long as he sees how delighted I am, I don't care; let etiquette go to
+the devil!"
+
+Wherever I was, at my call, "Koultiapka," out he came from some corner,
+dashing towards me with noisy satisfaction, making a ball of himself,
+and rolling over and over. I was exceedingly fond of the little wretch,
+and I used to fancy that destiny had reserved for him nothing but joy
+and pleasure in this world of ours; but one fine day the convict
+Neustroief, who made women's shoes and prepared skins, cast his eye on
+him; something had evidently struck him, for he called Koultiapka, felt
+his skin, and turned him over on the ground in a friendly way. The
+unsuspicious dog barked with pleasure, but next day he was nowhere to be
+found. I hunted for him for some time, but in vain; at last, after two
+weeks, all was explained. Koultiapka's natural cloak had been too much
+for Neustroief, who had flayed him to make up with the skin some boots
+of fur-trimmed velvet ordered by the young wife of some official. He
+showed them me when they were done, their inside lining was magnificent;
+all Koultiapka, poor fellow!
+
+A good many convicts worked at tanning, and often brought with them to
+the jail dogs with a nice skin, which soon were seen no more. They stole
+them or bought them. I remember one day I saw a couple of convicts
+behind the kitchens laying their heads together. One of them held in a
+leash a very fine black dog of particularly good breed. A scamp of a
+footman had stolen it from his master, and sold it to our shoemakers for
+thirty kopecks. They were going to hang it; that was their way of
+disposing of them; then they took the skin off, and threw the body into
+a ditch used for _ejecta_, which was in the most distant corner of the
+court, and which stank most horribly during the summer heats, for it was
+rarely seen to.
+
+I think the poor beast understood the fate in store for him. It looked
+at us one after another in a distressed, scrutinising way; at intervals
+it gave a timid little wag with its bushy tail between its legs, as
+though trying to reach our hearts by showing us every confidence. I
+hastened away from the convicts, who finished their vile work without
+hindrance.
+
+As to the geese of the establishment, they had established themselves
+there quite fortuitously. Who took care of them? To whom did they
+belong? I really don't know; but they were a huge delight to our
+convicts, and acquired a certain fame throughout the town.
+
+They had been hatched in the convict establishment somewhere, and their
+head-quarters was the kitchen, whence they emerged in gangs of their
+own, when the gangs of convicts went out to their work. But as soon as
+the drum beat and the prisoners massed themselves at the great gate, out
+ran the geese after them, cackling and flapping their wings, then they
+jumped one after the other over the elevated threshold of the gateway;
+while the convicts were at their work, the geese pecked about at a
+little distance from them. As soon as they had done and set out for the
+jail, again the geese joined the procession, and people who passed by
+would cry out, "I say, there are the prisoners with their friends, the
+geese!" "How did you teach them to follow you?" some one would ask.
+"Here's some money for your geese," another said, putting his hand in
+his pocket. In spite of their devotion to the convicts they had their
+necks twisted to make a feast at the end of the Lent of some year, I
+forget which.
+
+Nobody would ever have made up his mind to kill our goat Vaska, unless
+something particular had happened; as it did. I don't know how it got
+into our prison, or who had brought it. It was a white kid, and very
+pretty. After some days it had won all hearts, it was diverting and
+winning. As some excuse was needed for keeping it in the jail, it was
+given out that it was quite necessary to have a goat in the stables; but
+he didn't live there, but in the kitchen principally; and after a while
+he roamed about all over the place. The creature was full of grace and
+as playful as could be, jumped on the tables, wrestled with the
+convicts, came when it was called, and was always full of spirits and
+fun.
+
+One evening, the Lesghian Babai, who was seated on the stone steps at
+the doors of the barracks among a crowd of other convicts, took it into
+his head to have a wrestling bout with Vaska, whose horns were pretty
+long.
+
+They butted their foreheads against one another--that was the way the
+convicts amused themselves with him--when all of a sudden Vaska jumped
+on the highest step, lifted himself up on his hind legs, drew his
+fore-feet to him and managed to strike the Lesghian on the back of the
+neck with all his might, and with such effect that Babai went headlong
+down the steps to the great delight of all who were by as well as of
+Babai himself.
+
+In a word, we all adored our Vaska. When he attained the age of puberty,
+a general and serious consultation was held, as the result of which, he
+was subjected to an operation which one of the prison veterinaries
+executed in a masterly manner.
+
+"Well," said the prisoners, "he won't have any goat-smell about him,
+that's one comfort."
+
+Vaska then began to lay on fat in the most surprising way. I must say
+that we fed him quite unconscionably. He became a most beautiful fellow,
+with magnificent horns, corpulent beyond anything. Sometimes as he
+walked, he rolled over on the ground heavily out of sheer fatness. He
+went with us out to work too, which was very diverting to the convicts
+and all others who saw; and everybody got to know Vaska, the jailbird.
+
+When they worked at the river bank, the prisoners used to cut willow
+branches and other foliage, and gather flowers in the ditches to
+ornament Vaska. They used to twine the branches and flowers round his
+horns and decorate his body with garlands. Vaska then came back at the
+head of the gang in a splendid state of ornamentation, and we all came
+after in high pride at seeing him such a beauty.
+
+This love for our goat went so far that prisoners raised the question,
+not a very wise one, whether Vaska ought not to have his horns gilded.
+It was a vain idea; nothing came of it. I asked Akim Akimitch, the best
+gilder in the jail, whether you really could gild a goat's horns. He
+examined Vaska's quite closely, thought a bit, and then said that it
+could be done, but that it would not last, and would be quite useless.
+So nothing came of it. Vaska would have lived for many years more, and,
+no doubt, have died of asthma at last, if, one day as he returned from
+work at the head of the convicts, his path had not been crossed by the
+Major, who was seated in his carriage. Vaska was in particularly
+gorgeous array.
+
+"Halt!" yelled the Major. "Whose goat is that?"
+
+They told him.
+
+"What! a goat in the prison! and that without my leave? Sub-officer!"
+
+The sub-officer received orders to kill the goat without a moment's
+delay; flay him, and sell his skin; and put the proceeds to the
+prisoners' account. As to the meat, he ordered it to be cooked with the
+convicts' cabbage soup.
+
+The occurrence was much discussed; the goat was much mourned; but nobody
+dared to disobey the Major. Vaska was put to death close to the ditch I
+spoke of just now. One of the convicts bought the carcase, paying a
+rouble and fifty kopecks. With this money white bread was bought for
+everybody. The man who had bought the goat sold him at retail in a
+roasted state. The meat was delicious.
+
+We had also, during some time, in our prison a steppe eagle; a quite
+small species. A convict brought it in, wounded, half-dead. Everybody
+came flocking around it; it could not fly, its right wing being quite
+powerless; one of its legs was badly hurt. It gazed on the curious crowd
+wrathfully, and opened its crooked beak, as if prepared to sell its life
+dearly. When we had looked at him long enough, and the crowd dispersed,
+the lamed bird went off, hopping on one paw and flapping his wing, and
+hid himself in the most distant part of the place he could find; there
+he huddled himself in a corner against the palings.
+
+During the three months that he remained in our court-yard he never came
+out of his corner. At first we went to look at him pretty often, and
+sometimes they set Bull at him, who threw himself forward with fury, but
+was frightened to go too near, which mightily amused the convicts. "A
+wild chap that! He won't stand any nonsense!" But Bull after a while got
+over his fright, and began to worry him. When he was roused to it, the
+dog would catch hold of the bird's bad wing, and the creature defended
+itself with beak and claws, and then got up closer into his corner with
+a proud, savage sort of demeanour, like a wounded king, fixing his eyes
+steadily on the fellows looking at his misery.
+
+They tired of the sport after a while, and the eagle seemed quite
+forgotten; but there was some one who, every day, put close to him a bit
+of fresh meat and a vessel with some water. At first, and for several
+days, the eagle would eat nothing; at last, he made up his mind to take
+what was left for him, but he never could be got to take anything from
+the hand, or in public. Sometimes I succeeded in watching his
+proceedings at some distance.
+
+When he saw nobody, and thought he was alone, he ventured upon leaving
+his corner and limping along the palisade for a dozen steps or so, then
+went back; and so forwards and backwards, precisely as if he were taking
+exercise for his health under medical orders. As soon as ever he caught
+sight of me he made for his corner as quickly as he possibly could,
+limping and hopping. Then he threw his head back, opened his mouth,
+ruffled himself, and seemed to make ready for fight.
+
+In vain I tried to caress him. He bit and struggled as soon as he was
+touched. Not once did he take the meat I offered him, and all the time I
+remained by him he kept his wicked, piercing eye upon me. Lonely and
+revengeful he waited for death, defying, refusing to be reconciled with
+everything and everybody.
+
+At last the convicts remembered him, after two months of complete
+forgetfulness, and then they showed a sympathy I did not expect of
+them. It was unanimously agreed to carry him out.
+
+"Let him die, but let him die in freedom," said the prisoners.
+
+"Sure enough, a free and independent bird like that will never get used
+to the prison," added others.
+
+"He's not like us," said some one.
+
+"Oh well, he's a bird, and we're human beings."
+
+"The eagle, pals, is the king of the woods," began Skouratof; but that
+day nobody paid any attention to him.
+
+One afternoon, when the drum beat for beginning work, they took the
+eagle, tied his beak (for he struck a desperate attitude), and took him
+out of the prison on to the ramparts. The twelve convicts of the gang
+were extremely anxious to know where he would go to. It was a strange
+thing: they all seemed as happy as though they had themselves got their
+freedom.
+
+"Oh, the wretched brute. One wants to do him a kindness, and he tears
+your hand for you by way of thanks," said the man who held him, looking
+almost lovingly at the spiteful bird.
+
+"Let him fly off, Mikitka!"
+
+"It doesn't suit _him_ being a prisoner; give him his freedom, his jolly
+freedom."
+
+They threw him from the ramparts on to the steppe. It was just at the
+end of autumn, a gray, cold day. The wind whistled on the bare steppe
+and went groaning through the yellow dried-up grass. The eagle made off
+directly, flapping his wounded wing, as if in a hurry to quit us and get
+himself a shelter from our piercing eyes. The convicts watched him
+intently as he went along with his head just above the grass.
+
+"Do you see him, hey?" said one very pensively.
+
+"He doesn't look round," said another; "he hasn't looked behind once."
+
+"Did you happen to fancy he'd come back to thank us?" said a third.
+
+"Sure enough, he's free; he feels it. It's _freedom_!"
+
+"Yes, freedom."
+
+"You won't see him any more, pals."
+
+"What are you about sticking there? March, march!" cried the escort, and
+all went slowly to their work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+GRIEVANCES
+
+
+At the outset of this chapter, the editor of the "Recollections" of the
+late Alexander Petrovitch Goriantchikoff thinks it his duty to
+communicate what follows to his readers.
+
+"In the first chapter of the 'Recollections of the House of the Dead,'
+something was said about a parricide, of noble birth, who was put
+forward as an instance of the insensibility with which the convicts
+speak of the crimes they have committed. It was also stated that he
+refused altogether to confess to the authorities and the court; but
+that, thanks to the statements of persons who knew all the details of
+his case and history, his guilt was put beyond all doubt. These persons
+had informed the author of the 'Recollections,' that the criminal had
+been of dissolute life and overwhelmed with debts, and that he had
+murdered his father to come into the property. Besides, the whole town
+where this parricide was imprisoned told his story in precisely the same
+way, a fact of which the editor of these 'Recollections' has fully
+satisfied himself. It was further stated that this murderer, even when
+in the jail, was of quite a joyous and cheerful frame of mind, a sort of
+inconsiderate giddy-pated person, although intelligent, and that the
+author of the 'Recollections' had never observed any particular signs of
+cruelty about him, to which he added, 'So I, for my part, never could
+bring myself to believe him guilty.'
+
+"Some time ago the editor of the 'Recollections of the House of the
+Dead,' had intelligence from Siberia of the discovery of the innocence
+of this 'parricide,' and that he had undergone ten years of the
+imprisonment with hard labour for nothing; this was recognised and
+avowed by the authorities. The real criminals had been discovered and
+had confessed, and the unfortunate man in question set at liberty. All
+this stands upon unimpeachable and authoritative grounds."
+
+To say more would be useless. The tragical facts speak too clearly for
+themselves. All words are weak in such a case, where a life has been
+ruined by such an accusation. Such mistakes as these are among the
+dreadful possibilities of life, and such possibilities impart a keener
+and more vivid interest to the "Recollections of the House of the Dead,"
+which dreadful place we see may contain innocent as well as guilty men.
+
+To continue. I have said that I became at last, in some sense,
+accustomed, if not reconciled, to the conditions of convict life; but it
+was a long and dreadful time before I was. It took me nearly a year to
+get used to the prison, and I shall always regard this year as the most
+dreadful of my life, it is graven deep in my memory, down to the very
+least details. I think that I could minutely recall the events and
+feelings of each successive hour in it.
+
+I have said that the other prisoners, too, found it as difficult as I
+did to get used to the life they had to lead. During the whole of this
+first year, I used to ask myself whether they were really as calm as
+they seemed to be. Questions of this kind pressed themselves upon me. As
+I have mentioned before, all the convicts felt themselves in an alien
+element to which they could not reconcile themselves. The sense of home
+was an impossibility; they felt as if they were staying, as a stage
+upon a journey, in an evil sort of inn. These men, exiles for and from
+life, seemed either in a perpetual smouldering agitation, or else in
+deep depression; but there was not one who had not his ordinary ideas of
+one thing or another. This restlessness, which, if it did not come to
+the surface, was still unmistakable; those vague hopes of the poor
+creatures which existed in spite of themselves, hopes so ill-founded
+that they were more like the promptings of incipient insanity than aught
+else; all this stamped the place with a character, an originality,
+peculiarly its own. One could not but feel when one went there that
+there was nothing like it anywhere else in the whole world. There
+everybody went about in a sort of waking dream; nor was there anything
+to relieve or qualify the impressions the place made on the system of
+every man; so that all seemed to suffer from a sort of hyperaesthetic
+neurosis, and this dreaming of impossibilities gave to the majority of
+the convicts a sombre and morose aspect, for which the word morbid is
+not strong enough. Nearly all were taciturn and irascible, preferring to
+keep to themselves the hopes they secretly and vainly cherished. The
+result was, that anything like ingenuousness or frank statement was the
+object of general contempt. Precisely because these wild hopings were
+impossible, and, despite themselves, were felt to be so, confessed to
+their more lucid selves to be so, they kept them jealously concealed in
+the most secret recesses of their souls; while to renounce them was
+beyond their powers of self-control. It may be they were ashamed of
+their imagination. God knows. The Russian character is, in its normal
+conditions, so positive and sober in its way of looking at life, so
+pitiless in criticism of its own weaknesses.
+
+Perhaps it was this inward misery of self-dissatisfaction which was at
+the bottom of the impatience and intolerance the convicts showed among
+themselves, and of the cruel biting things they said to each other. If
+one of them, more naive or impartial than the rest, put into words what
+every one of them had in his mind, painted his castles in the air, told
+his dreams of liberty, or plans of escape, they shut him up with brutal
+promptitude, and made the poor fellow's life a burden to him with their
+sarcasms and jests. And I think those did it most unscrupulously who had
+perhaps themselves gone furthest in cherishing futile hopes, and
+indulging in senseless expectations. I have said, more than once, that
+those among them who were marked by simplicity and candour were looked
+on rather as being stupid and idiotic; there was nothing but contempt
+for them. The convicts were so soured and, in the wrong sense,
+sensitive, that they positively hated anything like amiability or
+unselfishness. I should be disposed to classify them all broadly, as
+either good or bad men, morose or cheerful, putting by themselves, as a
+sort of separate creatures, the ingenious fellows who could not hold
+their tongues. But the sour-tempered were in far the greatest majority;
+some of these were talkative, but these were usually of slanderous and
+envious disposition, always poking their noses into other people's
+business, though they took good care not to let anybody have a glimpse
+of the secret thoughts of their _own_ souls; that would have been
+against the fashions and conventions of this strange, little world. As
+to the fellows who were really good--very few indeed were they--these
+were always very quiet and peaceable, and buried their hopes, if they
+had any, in strict silence; but more of real faith went with their hopes
+than was the case with the gloomy-minded among the convicts. Stay, there
+was one category further among our convicts, which ought not to be
+forgotten; the men who had lost all hope, who were despairing and
+desperate, like the old man of Starodoub; but these were very few
+indeed.
+
+The old man of Starodoub! This was a very subdued, quiet, old man; but
+there were some indications of what went on in him, which he could not
+help giving, and from which, I could not help seeing, that his inward
+life was one of intolerable horror; still he had _something_ to fall
+back upon for help and consolation--prayer, and the notion that he was a
+martyr. The convict who was always reading the Bible, of whom I spoke
+earlier, the one that went mad and threw himself, brick in hand, upon
+the Major, was also probably one of those whom hope had altogether
+abandoned; and, as it is perfectly impossible to go on living without
+hope of some sort, he threw away his life as a sort of voluntary
+sacrifice. He declared that he attacked the Major though he had no
+grievance in particular; all he wanted was to have some torments
+inflicted on himself.
+
+Now, what sort of psychological operation had been going on in _that_
+man's soul? No man lives, can live, without having _some_ object in
+view, and making efforts to attain that object. But when object there is
+none, and hope is entirely fled, anguish often turns a man into a
+monster. The object _we_ all had in view was liberty, and getting out of
+our place of confinement and hard labour.
+
+So I try to place our convicts in separately-defined classes and
+categories; but it cannot well be done. Reality is a thing of infinite
+diversity, and defies the most ingenious deductions and definitions of
+abstract thought, nay, abhors the clear and precise classifications we
+so delight in. Reality tends to infinite subdivision of things, and
+truth is a matter of infinite shadings and differentiations. Every one
+of us who were there had his own peculiar, interior, strictly personal
+life, which lay altogether outside of the world of regulations and our
+official superintendence.
+
+But, as I have said before, I could not penetrate the depths of this
+interior life in the early part of my prison career, for everything that
+met my eyes, or challenged my attention in any way, filled me with a
+sadness for which there are no words. Sometimes I felt nothing short of
+hatred for poor creatures whose martyrdom was at least as great as mine.
+In those first days I envied them, because they were among persons of
+their own sort, and understood one another; so I thought, but the truth
+was that their enforced companionship, the comradeship where the word of
+command went with the whip or the rod, was as much an object of aversion
+to them as it was to myself, and every one of them tried to keep himself
+as much to himself as possible. This envious hatred of them, which came
+to me in moments of irritation, was not without its reasonable cause,
+for those who tell you so confidently that a cultivated man of the
+higher class does not suffer as a mere peasant does, are utterly in the
+wrong. That is a thing I have often heard said, and read too. In the
+abstract, the notion seems correct, and it is founded in generous
+sentiment, for all convicts are human beings alike; but in reality it is
+different. In the real living facts of the problem there come in a
+quantity of practical complications, and only experience can pronounce
+upon these: experience which I have had. I do not mean to lay it down
+peremptorily, that the nobleman and the man of culture feel more
+acutely, sensitively, deeply, because of their more highly developed
+conditions of being. On the other hand, it is impossible to bring all
+souls to one common level or standard; neither the grade of education,
+nor any other thing, furnishes a standard according to which punishment
+can be meted out.
+
+It is a great satisfaction to me to be able to say that among these
+dreadful sufferers, in a state of things so barbarous and abject, I
+found abundant proof that the elements of moral development were not
+wanting. In our convict establishment there were men whom I was familiar
+with for several years, and whom I looked upon as wild beasts and
+abhorred as such; well, all of a sudden, when I least expected it, these
+very men would exhibit such an abundance of feeling of the best kind, so
+keen a comprehension of the sufferings of others, seen in the light of
+the consciousness of their own, that one might almost fancy scales had
+fallen from their eyes. So sudden was it as to cause stupefaction; one
+could scarcely believe one's eyes or ears. Sometimes it was just the
+other way: educated men, well brought up, would occasionally display a
+savage, cynical brutality which nearly turned one's stomach, conduct of
+a kind impossible to excuse or justify, however much you might be
+charitably inclined to do so.
+
+I lay no stress on the entire change in the habits of life, the food,
+etc., as to which there come in points where the man of the higher
+classes suffers so much more keenly than the peasant or working man, who
+often goes hungry when free, while he always has his stomach-full in
+prison. We will leave all that out. Let it be admitted that for a man
+with some force of character these external things are a trifle in
+comparison with privations of a quite different kind; for all that, such
+total change of material conditions and habits is neither an easy nor a
+slight thing. But in the convict's _status_ there are elements of horror
+before which all other horrors pale, even the mud and filth everywhere
+about, the scantiness and uncleanness of the food, the irons on your
+limbs, the suffocating sense of being always held tight, as in a vice.
+
+The capital, the most important point of all is, that after a couple of
+hours or so, every new-comer to a convict establishment, who is of the
+lower class, shakes down into equality with the rest; he is _at home_
+among them, he has his "freedom" of this city of the enslaved, this
+community of convicted scoundrels, in which one man is superficially
+like every other man; he understands and is understood, he is looked
+upon by everybody as _one of themselves_. Now all this is _not_ so in
+the case of the nobleman. However kindly, just-minded, intelligent a man
+of the higher class may be, every soul there will hate and despise him
+during long years; they will neither understand nor believe in him, not
+one whit. He will be neither friend nor comrade in their eyes; if he
+can get them to stop insulting him it will be as much as he can do, but
+he will be alien to them from the first to the last, he will have to
+feel the grief of a ceaseless, hopeless, causeless solitude and
+sequestration. Sometimes it is the case that sheer ill-will on the part
+of the prisoners has nothing to do with bringing about this state of
+things, it simply cannot be helped; the nobleman is not one of the gang,
+and there's the whole secret.
+
+There is nothing more horrible than to live out of the social sphere to
+which you properly belong. The peasant, transported from Taganrog to
+Petropavlosk, finds there Russian peasants like himself; between him and
+them there can be mutual intelligence; in an hour they will be friends,
+and live comfortably together in the same izba or the same barrack. With
+the nobleman it is wholly otherwise; a bottomless abyss separates him
+from the lower classes, _how_ deep and impassable is only seen when a
+nobleman forfeits his position and becomes as one of the populace
+himself. You may be your whole life in daily relations with the peasant,
+forty years you may do business with him regularly as the day comes--let
+us suppose it so, at all events--by the calls of official position or
+administrative duty; you may be his benefactor, all but a father to
+him--well, you'll never know what is at the bottom of the man's mind or
+heart. You may think you know something about him, but it is all optical
+illusion, nothing more. My readers will charge me with exaggeration, but
+I am convinced I am quite right. I don't go on theory or book-reading in
+this; in my case the realities of life have given me only too ample time
+and opportunity for reviewing and correcting my theoretic convictions,
+which, as to this, are now fixed. Perhaps everybody will some day learn
+how well founded I am in what I say about this.
+
+All this was theory when I first went into the convict establishment,
+but events, and things observed, soon came to confirm me in such views,
+and what I experienced so affected my system as to undermine its
+health. During the first summer I wandered about the place, so far as I
+was free to move, a solitary, friendless man. My moral situation was
+such that I could not distinguish those among the convicts who, in the
+sequel, managed to care for me a little in spite of the distance that
+always remained between us. There _were_ there men of my own position,
+ex-nobles like myself, but their companionship was repugnant to me.
+
+Here is one of the incidents which obliged me to see at the outset, how
+solitary a creature I was, and all the strangeness of my position at the
+place. One day in August, a fine warm day, about one o'clock in the
+afternoon, a time when, as a rule, everybody took a nap before resuming
+work, the convicts rose as one man and massed themselves in the
+court-yard. I had not the slightest idea, up to that moment, that
+anything was going on. So deeply had I been sunk in my own thoughts,
+that I saw nearly nothing of what was happening about me of any kind.
+But it seems that the convicts had been in a smouldering sort of unusual
+agitation for three days. Perhaps it had begun sooner; so I thought
+later when I remembered stray remarks, bits of talk that had come to my
+ears, the palpable increase of ill-humour among the prisoners, their
+unusual irritability for some time past. I had attributed it all to the
+trying summer work, the insufferably long days; to their dreamings about
+the woods, and freedom, which the season brought up; to the nights too
+short for rest. It may be that all these things came together to form a
+mass of discontent, that only wanted a tolerably good reason for
+exploding; it was found in the food.
+
+For several days the convicts had not concealed their dissatisfaction
+with it in open talk in their barracks, and they showed it plainly when
+assembled for dinner or supper; one of the cooks had been changed, but,
+after a couple of days, the new comer was sent to the right-about, and
+the old one brought back. The restlessness and ill-humour were general;
+mischief was brewing.
+
+"Here are we slaving to death, and they give us nothing but filth to
+eat," grumbled one in the kitchen.
+
+"If you don't like it, why don't you order jellies and blanc-mange?"
+said another.
+
+"Sour cabbage soup, why, that's _good_. I delight in it; there's nothing
+more juicy," exclaimed a third.
+
+"Well, if they gave you nothing but beef, beef, beef, for ever and ever,
+would you like _that_?"
+
+"Yes, yes; they ought to give us meat," said a fourth; "one's almost
+killed at the workshops; and, by heaven! when one has got through with
+work there one's hungry, hungry; and you don't get anything to satisfy
+your hunger."
+
+"It's true, the victuals are simply damnable."
+
+"He fills his pockets, don't you fear!"
+
+"It isn't your business."
+
+"Whose business is it? My belly's my own. If we were all to make a row
+about it together, you'd soon see."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Haven't we been beaten enough for complaining, dolt that you are?"
+
+"True enough! What's done in a hurry is never well done. And how would
+you set about making a raid over it, tell me that?"
+
+"I'll tell you, by God! If everybody will go, I'll go too, for I'm just
+dying of hunger. It's all very well for those who eat at a better table,
+apart, to keep quiet; but those who eat the regulation food----"
+
+"There's a fellow with eyes that do their work, bursting with envy _he_
+is. Don't his eyes glisten when he sees something that doesn't belong to
+him?"
+
+"Well, pals, why don't we make up our minds? Have we gone through
+enough? They flay us, the brigands! Let's go at them."
+
+"What's the good? I tell you ye must chew what they give you, and stuff
+your mouth full of it. Look at the fellow, he wants people to chew his
+food for him. We're in prison, and have got to stand it."
+
+"Yes, that's it; we're in prison."
+
+"That's it always; the people die of hunger, and the Government fills
+its belly."
+
+"That's true. Our eight-eyes (_the Major_) has got finely fat over it;
+he's bought a pair of gray horses."
+
+"He don't like his glass at all, that fellow," said a convict
+ironically.
+
+"He had a bout at cards a little while ago with the vet; for two hours
+he played without a half-penny in his pocket. Fedka told me so."
+
+"That's why we get cabbage soup that's fit for nothing."
+
+"You're all idiots! It doesn't matter; _nothing_ matters."
+
+"I tell you if we all join in complaining we shall see what he has to
+say for himself. Let's make up our minds."
+
+"_Say_ for himself? You'll get his fist on your pate; that's just all."
+
+"I tell you they'll have him up, and try him."
+
+All the prisoners were in great agitation; the truth is, the food was
+execrable. The general anguish, suffering, and suspense seemed to be
+coming to a head. Convicts are, by disposition, or, as such, quarrelsome
+and rebellious; but a general revolt is rare, for they can never agree
+upon it; we all of us felt that since there was, as a rule, more violent
+talk than doing.
+
+This time, however, the agitation did not fall to the ground. The men
+gathered in groups in their barracks, talking things over in a violent
+way, and going over all the particulars of the Major's misdoings, and
+trying to get to the bottom of them. In all affairs of that sort there
+are ringleaders and firebrands. The ringleaders on such occasions are
+generally rather remarkable fellows, not only in convict
+establishments, but among all large organisations of workmen, military
+detachments, etc. They are always people of a peculiar type,
+enthusiastic men, who have a thirst for justice, very naive, simple, and
+strong, convinced that their desires are fully capable of realisation;
+they have as much sense as other people; some are of high intelligence;
+but they are too full of warmth and zeal to measure their acts. When you
+come across people who really do know how to direct the masses, and get
+what they want, you find a quite different sort of popular leaders, and
+one excessively rare among us Russians. The more usual type of leader,
+the one I first alluded to, does certainly in some sense accomplish
+their object, so far as bringing about a rising is concerned; but it all
+ends in filling up the prisons and convict establishments. Thanks to
+their impetuosity they always come off second-best; but it is this
+impetuosity that gives them their influences over the masses; their
+ardent, honest indignation does its work, and draws in the more
+irresolute. Their blind confidence of success seduces even the most
+hardened sceptics, although this confidence is generally based on such
+uncertain, childish reasons that it is wonderful how people can put
+faith in them.
+
+The secret of their influence is that they put themselves at the head,
+and _go_ ahead, without flinching. They dash forward, heads down, often
+without the least knowledge worth the name of what they are about, and
+have nothing about them of the jesuitical practical faculty by dint of
+which a vile and worthless man often hits his mark and comes uppermost,
+and will sometimes come all white out of a tub of ink. They _must_ dash
+their skulls against stone walls. Under ordinary circumstances these
+people are bilious, irascible, intolerant, contemptuous, often very
+warm, which really after all is part of the secret of their strength.
+The deplorable thing is that they never go at what is the essential, the
+vital part of their task, they always go off at once into details
+instead of going straight to their mark, and this is their ruin. But
+they and the mob understand one another; that makes them formidable.
+
+I must say a few words about this word "grievance."
+
+
+Some of the convicts had been transported in connection with a
+"grievance;" these were the most excited among them, notably a certain
+Martinoff, who had formerly served in the Hussars, an eager, restless,
+and choleric, but a worthy and truthful, fellow. Another, Vassili
+Antonoff, could work himself up into anger coolly and collectedly; he
+had a generally impudent expression, and a sarcastic smile, but he, too,
+was honest, and a man of his word, and of no little education. I won't
+enumerate; there were plenty of them. Petroff went about in a hurried
+way from one group to another. He spoke few words, but he was quite as
+highly excited as any one there, for he was the first to spring out of
+the barrack when the others massed themselves in the court-yard.
+
+Our sergeant, who acted as sergeant-major, came up very soon in quite a
+fright. The convicts got into rank, and politely begged him to tell the
+Major that they wanted to speak with him and put him a few questions.
+Behind the sergeant came all the invalids, who ranked themselves in face
+of the convicts. What they asked the sergeant to do frightened the man
+out of his wits almost, but he dared not refuse to go and report to the
+Major, for if the convicts mutinied, God only knows what might happen.
+All the men set over us showed themselves great poltroons in handling
+the prisoners; then, even if nothing further worse happened, if the
+convicts thought better of it and dispersed, the sub-officer was still
+in duty bound to inform the authorities of what had been going on. Pale,
+and trembling with fright, he went headlong to the Major, without even
+an effort to bring the convicts to reason. He saw that they were not
+minded to put up with any of his talk, no doubt.
+
+Without the least idea of what was going on, I went into rank myself
+(it was only later that I heard the earlier details of the story). I
+thought that the muster-roll was to be called, but I did not see the
+soldiers who verify the lists, so I was surprised, and began to look
+about me a little. The men's faces were working with emotion, and some
+were ghostly pale. They were sternly silent, and seemed to be thinking
+of what they should say to the Major. I observed that many of the
+convicts seemed to wonder at seeing me among them, but they turned their
+glances away from me. No doubt they thought it strange that I should
+come into the ranks with them, and join in their remonstrances, and
+could not quite believe it. Then they turned round to me again in a
+questioning sort of way.
+
+"What are you doing here?" said Vassili Antonoff, in a loud, rude voice;
+he happened to be close to me, and a little way from the rest; the man
+had always hitherto been scrupulously polite to me.
+
+I looked at him in perplexity, trying to understand what he meant by it;
+I began to see that something extraordinary was up in our prison.
+
+"Yes, indeed, what are you about here? Go off into the barrack," said a
+young fellow, a soldier-convict, whom I did not know till then, and who
+was a good, quiet lad, "this is none of _your_ business."
+
+"Have we not fallen into rank," I answered, "aren't we going to be
+mustered?"
+
+"Why, _he's_ come, too," cried one of them.
+
+"Iron-nose,"[7] said another.
+
+"Fly-killer," added a third, with inexpressible contempt for me in his
+tone. This new nickname caused a general burst of laughter.
+
+"These fellows are in clover everywhere. We are in prison, with hard
+labour, I rather fancy; they get wheat-bread and sucking-pig, like great
+lords as they are. Don't you get your victuals by yourself? What are you
+doing here?"
+
+"Your place is not here," said Koulikoff to me brusquely, taking me by
+the hand and leading me out of the ranks.
+
+He was himself very pale; his dark eyes sparkled with fire, he had
+bitten his under lip till the blood came; he wasn't one of those who
+expected the Major without losing self-possession.
+
+I liked to look at Koulikoff when he was in trying circumstances like
+these; then he showed himself just what he was in his strong points and
+weak. He attitudinised, but he knew how to act, too. I think he would
+have gone to his death with a certain affected elegance. While everybody
+was insulting me in words and tones, his politeness was greater than
+ever; but he spoke in a firm and resolved tone which admitted of no
+reply.
+
+"We are here on business of our own, Alexander Petrovitch, and you've
+got to keep out of it. Go where you like and wait till it's over ...
+here, your people are in the kitchens, go there."
+
+"They're in hot quarters down there."
+
+I did in fact see our Poles at the open window of the kitchen, in
+company with a good many other convicts. I did not well know what to be
+at; but went there followed by laughter, insulting remarks, and that
+sort of muttered growling which is the prison substitute for the
+hissings and cat-calls of the world of freedom.
+
+"He doesn't like it at all! Chu, chu, chu! Seize him!"
+
+I had never been so bitterly insulted since I was in the place. It was a
+very painful moment, but just what was to be expected in the excessive
+excitement the men were labouring under. In the ante-room I met T--vski,
+a young nobleman of not much information, but of firm, generous
+character; the convicts excepted him from the hatred they felt for the
+convicts of noble birth; they were almost fond of him; every one of his
+gestures denoted the brave and energetic man.
+
+"What are you about, Goriantchikoff?" he cried to me; "come here, come
+here!"
+
+"But what is _it_ all about?"
+
+"They are going to make a formal complaint, don't you know it? It won't
+do them a bit of good; who'll pay any attention to convicts? They'll try
+to find out the ringleaders, and if we are among them they'll lay it all
+on us. Just remember what we have been transported for. They'll only get
+a whipping, but we shall be put regularly to trial. The Major detests us
+all, and will be only too happy to ruin us; all his sins will fall on
+our shoulders."
+
+"The convicts would tie us hands and feet and sell us directly," added
+M--tski, when we got into the kitchen.
+
+"They'll never have mercy on _us_," added T--vski.
+
+Besides the nobles there were in the kitchen about thirty other
+prisoners who did not want to join in the general complaints, some
+because they were afraid, others because of their conviction that the
+whole proceeding would prove quite useless. Akim Akimitch, who was a
+decided opponent of everything that savoured of complaint, or that could
+interfere with discipline and the usual routine, waited with great
+phlegm to see the end of the business, about which he did not care a
+jot. He was perfectly convinced that the authorities would put it all
+down immediately.
+
+Isaiah Fomitch's nose drooped visibly as he listened in a sort of
+frightened curiosity to what we said about the affair; he was much
+disturbed. With the Polish nobles were some inferior persons of the same
+nation, as well as some Russians, timid, dull, silent fellows, who had
+not dared to join the rest, and who waited in a melancholy way to see
+what the issue would be. There were also some morose, discontented
+convicts, who remained in the kitchen, not because they were afraid, but
+that they thought this half-revolt an absurdity which could not
+succeed; it seemed to me that these were not a little disturbed, and
+their faces were quite unsteady. They saw clearly that they were in the
+right, and that the issue of the movement would be what they had
+foretold, but they had a sort of feeling that they were traitors who had
+sold their comrades to the Major. Jolkin--the long-headed Siberian
+peasant sent to hard labour for coining, the man who got Koulikoff's
+town practice from him--was there also, as well as the old man of
+Starodoub. None of the cooks had left their post, perhaps because they
+looked upon themselves as belonging specially to the authorities of the
+place, whom it would be unbecoming, therefore, to join in opposing.
+
+"For all that," said I to M--tski, "except these fellows, all the
+convicts are in it," and no doubt I said it in a way that showed
+misgivings.
+
+"I wonder what in the world _we_ have to do with it?" growled B----.
+
+"We should have risked a good deal more than they had we gone with them;
+and why? _Je hais ces brigands._[8] Why, do you think that they'll bring
+themselves up to the scratch after all? I can't see what they want
+putting their heads in the lion's mouth, the fools."
+
+"It'll all come to nothing," said some one, an obstinate, sour-tempered
+old fellow. Almazoff, who was with us too, agreed heartily in this.
+
+"Some fifty of them will get a good beating, and that's all the good
+they'll all get out of it."
+
+"Here's the Major!" cried one; everybody ran to the windows.
+
+The Major had come up, spectacles and all, looking as wicked as might
+be, towering with passion, red as a turkey-cock. He came on without a
+word, and in a determined manner, right up to the line of the convicts.
+In conjunctures of this sort he showed uncommon pluck and presence of
+mind; but it ought not to be overlooked that he was nearly always
+half-seas over. Just then his greasy cap, with its yellow border, and
+his tarnished silver epaulettes, gave him a Mephistophelic look in my
+excited fancy. Behind him came the quartermaster, Diatloff, who was
+quite a personage in the establishment, for he was really at the bottom
+of all the authorities did. He was an exceedingly capable and cunning
+fellow, and wielded great influence with the Major. He was not by any
+means a bad sort of man, and the convicts were, in a general way, not
+ill-inclined towards him. Our sergeant followed him with three or four
+soldiers, no more; he had already had a tremendous wigging, and there
+was plenty more of the same to come, if he knew it. The convicts, who
+had remained uncovered, cap in hand, from the moment they sent for the
+Major, stiffened themselves, every man shifting his weight to the other
+leg; then they remained motionless, and waited for the first word, or
+the first shout rather, to come from him.
+
+They had not long to wait. Before he had got more than one word out, the
+Major began to shout at the top of his voice; he was beside himself with
+rage. We saw him from the windows running all along the line of
+convicts, dashing at them here and there with angry questions. As we
+were a pretty good distance off, we could not hear what he said or their
+replies. We only heard his shouts, or rather what seemed shouting,
+groaning, and grunting beautifully mingled.
+
+"Scoundrels! mutineers! to the cat with ye! Whips and sticks! The
+ringleaders? _You're_ one of the ringleaders!" throwing himself on one
+of them.
+
+We did not hear the answer; but a minute after we saw this convict leave
+the ranks and make for the guard-house.
+
+Another followed, then a third.
+
+"I'll have you up, every man of you. I'll---- Who's in the kitchen
+there?" he bawled, as he saw us at the open windows. "Here with all of
+you! Drive 'em all out, every man!"
+
+Diatloff, the quartermaster, came towards the kitchens. When we had
+told him that _we_ were not complaining of any grievance, he returned,
+and reported to the Major at once.
+
+"Ah, those fellows are not in it," said he, lowering his tone a bit, and
+much pleased. "Never mind, bring them along here."
+
+We left the kitchen. I could not help feeling humiliation; all of us
+went along with our heads down.
+
+"Ah, Prokofief! Jolkin too; and you, Almazof! Here, come here, all the
+lump of you!" cried the Major to us, with a gasp; but he was somewhat
+softened, his tone was even obliging. "M--tski, you're here too?... Take
+down the names. Diatloff, take down all the names, the grumblers in one
+list and the contented ones in another--all, without exception; you'll
+give me the list. I'll have you all before the Committee of
+Superintendence.... I'll ... brigands!"
+
+This word "_list_" told.
+
+"We've nothing to complain of!" cried one of the malcontents, in a
+half-strangled sort of voice.
+
+"Ah, you've nothing to complain of! _Who's_ that? Let all those who have
+nothing to complain of step out of the ranks."
+
+"All of us, all of us!" came from some others.
+
+"Ah, the food is all right, then? You've been put up to it. Ringleaders,
+mutineers, eh? So much the worse for them."
+
+"But, what do you mean by that?" came from a voice in the crowd.
+
+"Where is the fellow that said that?" roared the Major, throwing himself
+to where the voice came from. "It was you, Rastorgouief, you; to the
+guard-house with you."
+
+Rastorgouief, a young, chubby fellow of high stature, left the ranks and
+went with slow steps to the guard-house. It was not he who had said it,
+but, as he was called out, he did not venture to contradict.
+
+"You fellows are too fat, that's what makes you unruly!" shouted the
+Major. "You wait, you hulking rascal, in three days you'd---- Wait! I'll
+have it out with you all. Let all those who have nothing to complain of
+come out of the ranks, I say----"
+
+"We're not complaining of anything, your worship," said some of the
+convicts with a sombre air; the rest preserved an obstinate silence. But
+the Major wanted nothing further; it was his interest to stop the thing
+with as little friction as might be.
+
+"Ah, _now_ I see! _Nobody_ has anything to complain of," said he. "I
+knew it, I saw it all. It's ringleaders, there are ringleaders, by God,"
+he went on, speaking to Diatloff. "We must lay our hands on them, every
+man of them. And now--now--it's time to go to your work. Drummer, there;
+drummer, a roll!"
+
+He told them off himself in small detachments. The convicts dispersed
+sadly and silently, only too glad to get out of his sight. Immediately
+after the gangs went off, the Major betook himself to the guard-house,
+where he began to make his dispositions as to the "ringleaders," but he
+did not push matters far. It was easy to see that he wanted to be done
+with the whole business as soon as possible. One of the men charged told
+us later that he had begged for forgiveness, and that the officer had
+let him go immediately. There can be no doubt that our Major did not
+feel firm in the saddle; he had had a fright, I fancy, for a mutiny is
+always a ticklish thing, and although this complaint of the convicts
+about the food did not amount really to mutiny (only the Major had been
+reported to about it, and the Governor himself), yet it was an
+uncomfortable and dangerous affair. What gave him most anxiety was that
+the prisoners had been unanimous in their movement, so their discontent
+had to be got over somehow, at any price. The ringleaders were soon set
+free. Next day the food was passable, but this improvement did not last
+long; on the days ensuing the disturbance, the Major went about the
+prison much more than usual, and always found something irregular to be
+stopped and punished. Our sergeant came and went in a puzzled, dazed
+sort of way, as if he could not get over his stupefaction at what had
+happened. As to the convicts, it took long for them to quiet down again,
+but their agitation seemed to wear quite a different character; they
+were restless and perplexed. Some went about with their heads down,
+without saying a word; others discussed the event in a grumbling,
+helpless kind of way. A good many said biting things about their own
+proceedings as though they were quite out of conceit with themselves.
+
+"I say, pal, take and eat!" said one.
+
+"Where's the mouse that was so ready to bell the cat?"
+
+"Let's think ourselves lucky that he did not have us all well beaten."
+
+"It would be a good deal better if you thought more and chattered less."
+
+"What do _you_ mean by lecturing me? Are you schoolmaster here, I'd like
+to know?"
+
+"Oh, you want putting to the right-about."
+
+"Who are you, I'd like to know?"
+
+"I'm a man! What are you?"
+
+"A man! You're----"
+
+"You're----"
+
+"I say! Shut up, do! What's the good of all this row?" was the cry from
+all sides.
+
+On the evening of the day the "mutiny" took place, I met Petroff behind
+the barracks after the day's work. He was looking for me. As he came
+near me, I heard him exclaim something, which I didn't understand, in a
+muttering sort of way; then he said no more, and walked by my side in a
+listless, mechanical fashion.
+
+"I say, Petroff, your fellows are not vexed with us, are they?"
+
+"Who's vexed?" he asked, as if coming to himself.
+
+"The convicts with us--with us nobles."
+
+"Why should they be vexed?"
+
+"Well, because we did not back them up."
+
+"Oh, why should you have kicked up a dust?" he answered, as if trying to
+enter into my meaning: "you have a table to yourselves, you fellows."
+
+"Oh, well, there are some of you, not nobles, who don't eat the
+regulation food, and who went in with you. We ought to back you up,
+we're in the same place; we ought to be comrades."
+
+"Oh, I _say_. Are you our comrades?" he asked, with unfeigned
+astonishment.
+
+I looked at him; it was clear that he had not the least comprehension of
+my meaning; but I, on the other hand, entered only too thoroughly into
+his. I saw now, quite thoroughly, something of which I had before only a
+confused idea; what I had before guessed at was now sad certainty.
+
+It was forced on my perceptions that any sort of real fellowship between
+the convicts and myself could never be; not even were I to remain in the
+place as long as life should last. I was a convict of the "special
+section," a creature for ever apart. The expression of Petroff when he
+said, "are we comrades, how can that be?" remains, and will always
+remain before my eyes. There was a look of such frank, naive surprise in
+it, such ingenuous astonishment that I could not help asking myself if
+there was not some lurking irony in the man, just a little spiteful
+mockery. Not at all, it was simply meant. I was not their comrade, and
+could not be; that was all. Go you to the right, we'll go to the left!
+your business is yours, ours is ours.
+
+I really fancied that, after the mutiny, they would attack us
+mercilessly so far as they dared and could, and that our life would
+become a hell. But nothing of the sort happened; we did not hear the
+slightest reproach, there was not even an unpleasant allusion to what
+had happened, it was all simply passed over. They went on teasing us as
+before when opportunity served, no more. Nobody seemed to bear malice
+against those who would not join in, but remained in the kitchens, or
+against those who were the first to cry out that they had nothing to
+complain of. It was all passed over without a word, to my exceeding
+astonishment.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[7] An insulting phrase which is untranslatable.
+
+[8] French in the original Russian.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+MY COMPANIONS
+
+
+As will be understood, those to whom I was most drawn were people of my
+own sort, that is, those of "noble" birth, especially in the early days;
+but of the three ex-nobles in the place, who were Russians, I knew and
+spoke to but one, Akim Akimitch; the other two were the spy A----n, and
+the supposed parricide. Even with Akim I never exchanged a word except
+when in extremity, in moments when the melancholy on me was simply
+unendurable, and when I thought I really never should have the chance of
+getting close to any other human being again.
+
+In the last chapter I have tried to show that the convicts were of
+different types, and tried to classify them; but when I think of Akim
+Akimitch I don't know how to place him, he was quite _sui generis_, so
+far as I could observe, in that establishment.
+
+There may be, elsewhere, men like him, to whom it seemed as absolutely a
+matter of indifference whether he was a free man, or in jail at hard
+labour; at that place he stood alone in this curious impartiality of
+temperament. He had settled down in the jail as if he was going to pass
+his whole life, and didn't mind it at all. All his belongings, mattress,
+cushions, utensils, were so ordered as to give the impression that he
+was living in a furnished house of his own; there was nothing
+provisional, temporary, bivouac-like, about him, or his words, or his
+habits. He had a good many years still to spend in punishment, but I
+much doubt whether he ever gave a thought to the time when he would get
+out. He was entirely reconciled to his condition, not because he had
+made any effort to be so, but simply out of natural submissiveness; but,
+as far as his comfort went, it came to the same thing. He was not at all
+a bad fellow, and in the early days his advice and help were quite
+useful to me; but sometimes, I can't help saying it, his peculiarities
+deepened my natural melancholy until it became almost intolerable
+anguish.
+
+When I became desperate with silence and solitude of soul, I would get
+into talk with him; I wanted to hear, and reply to _some_ words falling
+from a living soul, and the more filled with gall and hatred with all
+our surroundings they had been, the more would they have been in
+sympathy with my wretched mood; but he would just barely talk, quietly
+go on sizing his lanterns, and then begin to tell me some story as to
+how he had been at a review of troops in 18--, that their general of
+division was so-and-so, that the manoeuvring had been very pretty, that
+there had been a change in the skirmisher's system of signalling, and
+the like; all of it in level imperturbable tones, like water falling
+drop by drop. He did not put any life into them even when he told me of
+a sharp affair in which he had been, in the Caucasus, for which his
+sword had got the decoration of the Riband of St. Anne. The only
+difference was, that his voice became a little more measured and grave;
+he lowered his tones when he pronounced the name "St. Anne," as though
+he were telling a great secret, and then, for three minutes at least,
+did not utter a word, but only looked solemn.
+
+During all that first year I had strange passages of feeling, in which I
+hated Akim Akimitch with a bitter hatred, I am sure I cannot say why,
+moments when I would despairingly curse the fate which made him my next
+neighbour on my camp-bed, so close indeed that our heads nearly touched.
+An hour afterwards I bitterly reproached myself for such extravagance.
+It was, however, only during my first year of confinement that these
+violent feelings overpowered me. As time went on, I got used to Akim
+Akimitch's singular character, and was ashamed of my former explosions.
+I don't remember that he and I ever got into anything like an open
+quarrel.
+
+Besides the three Russian nobles of whom I have spoken, there were eight
+others there during my time; with some of whom I came to be on a footing
+of intimate friendship. Even the best of them were morbid in mind,
+exclusive, and intolerant to the very last degree; with two of them I
+was obliged to discontinue all spoken intercourse. There were only three
+who had any education, B--ski, M--tski, and the old man, J--ski, who had
+formerly been a professor of mathematics, an excellent fellow, highly
+eccentric, and of very narrow mental horizon in spite of his learning.
+M--tski and B--ski were of a mould quite different from his. Between
+M--tski and myself there was an excellent understanding from the first
+set-off. He and I never once got into any sort of dispute; I respected
+him highly, but could never become sincerely attached to him, though I
+tried to. He was sour, embittered, and mistrustful, with much
+self-control; this was quite antipathetic to me; the man had a closed
+soul, closed to everybody, and he made you feel it. I felt it so
+strongly that perhaps I was wrong about it. After all, his character, I
+must say, was stamped with both nobleness and strength. His inveterate
+scepticism made him very prudent in his relations with everybody about
+him, and in conducting these he gave proof of remarkable tact and skill.
+Sceptic as he was, there was another and a reverse side in his nature,
+for in some things he was a profound and unalterable believer with faith
+and hope unshakable. In spite of his tact in dealing with men, he got
+into open hostilities with B--ski and his friend T--ski.
+
+The first of these, B--ski, was a man of infirm health, of consumptive
+tendency, irascible, and of a weak, nervous system; but a good and
+generous man. His nervous irritability went so far that he was as
+capricious as a child; a temperament of that kind was too much for me
+there, so I soon saw as little of B--ski as I could possibly help,
+though I never ceased to like him much. It was just the other way so far
+as M--tski was concerned; with him I always was on easy terms, though I
+did not like him at all. When I edged away from B--ski, I had to break
+also, more or less, with T--ski, of whom I spoke in the last chapter,
+which I much regretted, for, though of little education, he had an
+excellent heart; a worthy, very spiritual man. He loved and respected
+B--ski so much that those who broke with that friend of his he regarded
+as his personal enemies. He quarrelled with M--tski on account of
+B--ski, and they kept up the difference a long while. All these people
+were as bilious as they could be, humoursome, mistrustful, the victims
+of a moral and physical supersensitiveness. It is not to be wondered at;
+their position was trying indeed, much more so than ours; they were all
+exiled, transported, for ten or twelve years; and what made their
+sojourn in the prison most distressing to them was their rooted,
+ingrained prejudice, especially their unfortunate way of regarding the
+convicts, which they could not get over; in their eyes the unhappy
+fellows were mere wild beasts, without a single recognisable human
+quality. Everything in their previous career and their present
+circumstances combined to produce this unhappy feeling in them.
+
+Their life at the jail was perpetual torment to them. They were kindly
+and conversible with the Circassians, with the Tartars, with Isaiah
+Fomitch; but for the other prisoners they had nothing but contempt and
+aversion. The only one they had any real respect for was the aged "old
+believer." For all this, during all the time I spent at the convict
+establishment, I never knew a single prisoner to reproach them with
+either their birth, or religious opinions, or convictions, as is so
+usual with our common people in their relations with people of different
+condition, especially if these happen to be foreigners. The fact is,
+they cannot take the foreigner seriously; to the Russian common people
+he seems a merely grotesque, comical creature. Our convicts had and
+showed much more respect for the Polish nobles than for us Russians, but
+I don't think the Poles cared about the matter, or took any notice of
+the difference.
+
+I spoke just now of T--ski, and have something more to say of him. When
+he had with his friend to leave the first place assigned to them as
+residence in their banishment to come to our fortress, he carried his
+friend B---- nearly the whole way. B---- was of quite a weak frame, and
+in bad health, and became exhausted before half of the first march was
+accomplished. They had first been banished to Y--gorsk, where they lived
+in tolerable comfort; life was much less hard there than in our
+fortress. But in consequence of a correspondence with the exiles in one
+of the other towns--a quite innocent exchange of letters--it was thought
+necessary to remove them to our jail to be under the more direct
+surveillance of the government. Until they came M--tski had been quite
+alone, and dreadful must have been his sufferings in that first year of
+his banishment.
+
+J--ski was the old man always deep in prayer, of whom I spoke a little
+earlier. All the political convicts were quite young men while J--ski
+was at least fifty years old. He was a worthy, gentlemanlike person, if
+eccentric. T--ski and B--ski detested him, and never spoke to him; they
+insisted upon it that he was too obstinate and troublesome to put up
+with, and I was obliged to admit it was so. I believe that at a convict
+establishment--as in every place where people have to be together,
+whether they like it or not--people are more ready to quarrel with and
+detest one another than under other circumstances. Many causes
+contributed to the squabbles that were, unfortunately, always going on.
+J--ski was really disagreeable and narrow-minded; not one of those about
+him was on good terms with him. He and I did not come to a rupture, but
+we were never on a really friendly footing. I fancy that he was a strong
+mathematician. One day he explained to me in his half-Russian,
+half-Polish jargon, a system of astronomy of his own; I have been told
+that he had written a work upon the subject which the learned world had
+received with derision; I fancy his reasonings on some things had got
+twisted. He used to be on his knees praying for a whole day sometimes,
+which made the convicts respect him exceedingly during the remnant of
+life he had to pass there; he died under my eyes at the jail after a
+very trying illness. He had won the consideration of the prisoners, from
+the first moment of his coming in, on account of what had happened with
+the Major and him. When they were brought afoot from Y--gorsk to our
+fortress, they were not shaved on the road at all, their hair and beards
+had grown to great lengths when they were brought before the Major. That
+worthy foamed like a madman; he was wild with indignation at such
+infraction of discipline, though it was none of their fault.
+
+"My God! did you ever see anything like it?" he roared; "they are
+vagabonds, brigands."
+
+J--ski knew very little Russian, and fancied that he was asking them if
+they were brigands or vagabonds, so he answered:
+
+"We are political prisoners, not rogues and vagabonds."
+
+"So-o-o! You mean impudence! Clod!" howled the Major. "To the
+guard-house with him; a hundred strokes of the rod at once, this
+instant, I say!"
+
+They gave the old man the punishment; he lay flat on the ground under
+the strokes without the slightest resistance, kept his hand in his
+teeth, and bore it all without a murmur, and without moving a muscle.
+B--ski and T--ski arrived at the jail as this was all going on, and
+M--ski was waiting for them at the principal gate, knowing that they
+were just coming in; he threw himself on their neck, although he had
+never seen them before. Utterly disgusted at the way the Major had
+received them, they told M--ski all about the cruel business that had
+just occurred. M--ski told me later that he was quite beside himself
+with rage when he heard it.
+
+"I could not contain myself for passion," he said, "I shook as though
+with ague. I waited for J--ski at the great gate, for he would come
+straight that way from the guard-house after his punishment. The gate
+was opened, and there I saw pass before me J--ski, his lips all white
+and trembling, his face pale as death; he did not look at a single
+person, and passed through the groups of convicts assembled in the
+court-yard--they knew a noble had just been subjected to
+punishment--went into the barrack, went straight to his place, and,
+without a word, dropped down on his knees for prayer. The prisoners were
+surprised and even affected. When I saw this old man with white hairs,
+who had left behind him at home a wife and children, kneeling and
+praying after that scandalous treatment, I rushed away from the barrack,
+and for a couple of hours felt as if I had gone stark, staring, raving
+mad, or blind drunk.... From that first moment the convicts were full of
+deference and consideration for J--ski; what particularly pleased them,
+was that he did not utter a cry when undergoing the punishment."
+
+But one must be fair and tell the truth about this sort of thing; this
+sad story is not an instance of what frequently occurs in the treatment
+by the authorities of transported noblemen, Russian or Polish; and this
+isolated case affords no basis for passing judgment upon that treatment.
+My anecdote merely shows that you may light upon a bad man anywhere and
+everywhere. And if it happen that such a one is in absolute command of a
+jail, and if he happen to have a grudge against one of the prisoners,
+the lot of such a one will be indeed very far from enviable. But the
+administrative chiefs who regulate and supervise convict labour in
+Siberia, and from whom subordinates take their tone as well as their
+orders, are careful to exercise a discriminating treatment in the case
+of persons of noble birth, and, in some cases, grant them special
+indulgences as compared with the lot of convicts of lower condition.
+There are obvious reasons for this; these heads of departments are
+nobles themselves, they know that men of that class must not be driven
+to extremity; cases have been known where nobles have refused to submit
+to corporal punishment, and flung themselves desperately on their
+tormentors with very grave and serious consequences indeed;
+moreover--and this, I think, is the leading cause of the good
+treatment--some time ago, thirty-five years at least, there were
+transported to Siberia quite a crowd of noblemen;[9] these were of such
+correct and irreproachable demeanour, and held themselves so high, that
+the heads of departments fell into the way, which they never afterwards
+left, of regarding criminals of noble birth and ordinary convicts in
+quite a different manner; and men in lower place took their cue from
+them.
+
+Many of these, no doubt, were little pleased with that disposition in
+their superiors; such persons were pleased enough when they could do
+exactly as they liked in the matter, but this did not often happen, they
+were kept well within bounds; I have reason to be satisfied of this and
+I will say why. I was put in the second category, a classification of
+those condemned to hard labour, which was primarily and principally
+composed of convicts who had been serfs, under military superintendence;
+now this second category, or class, was much harder than the first (of
+the mines) or the third (manufacturing work). It was harder, not only
+for the nobles but for the other convicts too, because the governing and
+administrative methods and _personnel_ in it were wholly military, and
+were pretty much the same in type as those of the convict establishments
+in Russia. The men in official position were severer, the general
+treatment more rigorous than in the two other classes; the men were
+never out of irons, an escort of soldiers was always present, you were
+always, or nearly so, within stone walls; and things were quite
+different in the other classes, at least so the convicts said, and there
+were those among them who had every reason to know. They would all have
+gladly gone off to the mines, which the law classified as the worst and
+last punishment, it was their constant dream and desire to do so. All
+those who had been in the Russian convict establishments spoke with
+horror of them, and declared that there was no hell like them, that
+Siberia was a paradise compared with confinement in the fortresses in
+Russia.
+
+If, then, it is the case that we nobles were treated with special
+consideration in the establishment I was confined in, which was under
+direct control of the Governor-General, and administered entirely on
+military principles, there must have been some greater kindliness in the
+treatment of the convicts of the first and third category or class. I
+think I can speak with some authority about what went on throughout
+Siberia in these respects, and I based my views, as to this, upon all
+that I heard from convicts of these classes. We, in our prison, were
+under much more rigorous surveillance than was elsewhere practised; we
+were favoured with no sort of exemptions from the ordinary rules as
+regards work and confinement, and the wearing of chains; we could not do
+anything for ourselves to get immunity from the rules, for I, at least,
+knew quite well that, _in the good old time which was quite of
+yesterday_, there had been so much intriguing to undermine the credit of
+officials that the authorities were greatly afraid of informers, and
+that, as things stood, to show indulgence to a convict was regarded as a
+crime. Everybody, therefore, authorities and convicts alike, was in fear
+of what might happen; we of the nobles were thus quite down to the level
+of the other convicts; the only point we were favoured in was in regard
+to corporal punishment--but I think that we should have had even that
+inflicted on us had we done anything for which it was prescribed, for
+equality as to punishment was strictly enjoined or practised; what I
+mean is, that we were not wantonly, causelessly, mishandled like the
+other prisoners.
+
+When the Governor got to know of the punishment inflicted on J--ski, he
+was seriously angry with the Major, and ordered him to be more careful
+for the future. The thing got very generally known. We learned also that
+the Governor-General, who had great confidence in our Major, and who
+liked him because of his exact observance of legal bounds, and thought
+highly of his qualities in the service, gave him a sharp scolding. And
+our Major took the lesson to heart. I have no doubt it was this
+prevented his having M--ski beaten, which he would much have liked to
+do, being much influenced by the slanderous things A--f said about
+M----; but the Major could never get a fair pretext for doing so,
+however much he persecuted and set spies upon his proposed victim; so he
+had to deny himself that pleasure. The J--ski affair became known all
+through the town, and public opinion condemned the Major; some persons
+reproached him openly for what he had done, and some even insulted him.
+
+The first occasion on which the man crossed my path may as well be
+mentioned. We had alarming things reported to us--to me and another
+nobleman under sentence--about the abominable character of this man,
+while we were still at Tobolsk. Men who had been sentenced a long while
+back to twenty-five years of the misery, nobles as we were, and who had
+visited us so kindly during our provisional sojourn in the first
+prison, had warned us what sort of man we were to be under; they had
+also promised to do all they could for us with their friends to see that
+he hurt us as little as possible. And, in fact, they did write to the
+three daughters of the Governor-General, who, I believe, interceded on
+our behalf with their father. But what could he do? No more, of course,
+than tell the Major to be fair in applying the rules and regulations to
+our case. It was about three in the afternoon that my companion and
+myself arrived in the town; our escort took us at once to our tyrant. We
+remained waiting for him in the ante-chamber while they went to find the
+next-in-command at the prison. As soon as the latter had come, in walked
+the Major. We saw an inflamed scarlet face that boded no good, and
+affected us quite painfully; he seemed like a sort of spider about to
+throw itself on a poor fly wriggling in its web.
+
+"What's your name, man?" said he to my companion. He spoke with a harsh,
+jerky voice, as if he wanted to overawe us.
+
+My friend gave his name.
+
+"And you?" said he, turning to me and glaring at me behind his
+spectacles.
+
+I gave mine.
+
+"Sergeant! take 'em to the prison, and let 'em be shaved at the
+guard-house, civilian-fashion, hair off half their skulls, and let 'em
+be put in irons to-morrow. Why, what sort of cloaks have you got there?"
+said he brutally, when he saw the gray cloaks with yellow sewn at the
+back which they had given to us at Tobolsk. "Why, that's a new uniform,
+begad--a new uniform! They're always getting up something or other.
+That's a Petersburg trick," he said, as he inspected us one after the
+other. "Got anything with them?" he said abruptly to the gendarme who
+escorted us.
+
+"They've got their own clothes, your worship," replied he; and the man
+carried arms, just as if on parade, not without a nervous tremor.
+Everybody knew the fellow, and was afraid of him.
+
+"Take their clothes away from them. They can't keep anything but their
+linen, their white things; take away all their coloured things if
+they've got any, and sell them off at the next sale, and put the money
+to the prison account. A convict has no property," said he, looking
+severely at us. "Hark ye! Behave prettily; don't let me have any
+complaining. If I do--cat-o'-nine-tails! The smallest offence, and to
+the sticks you go!"
+
+This way of receiving me, so different from anything I had ever known,
+made me nearly ill that night. It was a frightful thing to happen at the
+very moment of entering the infernal place. But I have already told that
+part of my story.
+
+Thus we had no sort of exemption or immunity from any of the miseries
+inflicted there, no lightening of our labours when with the other
+convicts; but friends tried to help us by getting us sent for three
+months, B--ski and me, to the bureau of the Engineers, to do copying
+work. This was done quietly, and as much as possible kept from being
+talked about or observed. This piece of kindness was done for us by the
+head engineers, during the short time that Lieutenant-Colonel G--kof was
+Governor at our prison. This gentleman had command there only for six
+short months, for he soon went back to Russia. He really seemed to us
+all like an angel of goodness sent from heaven, and the feeling for him
+among the convicts was of the strongest kind; it was not mere love, it
+was something like adoration. I cannot help saying so. How he did it I
+don't know, but their hearts went out to him from the moment they first
+set eyes on him.
+
+"He's more like a father than anything else," the prisoners kept
+continually saying during all the time he was there at the head of the
+engineering department. He was a brilliant, joyous fellow. He was of low
+stature, with a bold, confident expression, and he was all gracious
+kindness to the convicts, for whom he really did seem to entertain a
+fatherly sort of affection. How was it he was so fond of them? It is
+hard to say, but he seemed never to be able to pass a prisoner without a
+bit of pleasant talk and a little laughing and joking together. There
+was nothing that smacked of authority in his pleasantries, nothing that
+reminded them of his position over them. He behaved just as if he was
+one of themselves. In spite of this kind condescension, I don't remember
+any one of the convicts ever failing in respect to him or taking the
+slightest liberty--quite the other way. The convict's face would light
+up in a wonderful, sudden way when he met the Governor; it was odd to
+see how the face smiled all over, and the hand went to the cap, when the
+Governor was seen in the distance making for the poor man. A word from
+him was regarded as a signal honour. There are some people like that,
+who know how to win all hearts.
+
+G--kof had a bold, jaunty air, walked with long strides, holding himself
+very straight; "a regular eagle," the convicts used to call him. He
+could not do much to lighten their lot materially, for his office was
+that of superintending the engineering work, which had to be done in
+ways and quantities, settled absolutely and unalterably by the
+regulations. But if he happened to come across a gang of convicts who
+had actually got through their work, he allowed them to go back to
+quarters before beat of drum, without waiting for the regulation moment.
+The prisoners loved him for the confidence he showed in them, and
+because of his aversion for all mean, trifling interferences with them,
+which are so irritating when prison superiors are addicted to that sort
+of thing. I am absolutely certain that if he had lost a thousand roubles
+in notes, there was not a thief in the prison, however hardened, who
+would not have brought them to him, if the man lit on them. I am sure of
+it.
+
+How the prisoners all felt for him, and with him when they learned that
+he was at daggers drawn with our detested Major. That came about a
+month after his arrival. Their delight knew no bounds. The Major had
+formerly served with him in the same detachment; so, when they met,
+after a long separation, they were at first boon companions, but the
+intimacy could not and did not last. They came to
+blows--figuratively--and G--kof became the Major's sworn enemy. Some
+would have it that it was _more_ than figuratively, that they came to
+actual fisticuffs, a likely thing enough as far as the Major was
+concerned, for the man had no objection to a scrimmage.
+
+When the convicts heard of the quarrel they really could not contain
+their delight.
+
+"Old Eight-eyes and the Commandant get on finely together! _He's_ an
+eagle; but the other's a _bad 'un_!"
+
+Those who believed in the fight were mighty curious to know which of the
+two had had the worst of it, and got a good drubbing. If it had been
+proved there had been no fighting our convicts, I think, would have been
+bitterly disappointed.
+
+"The Commandant gave him fits, you may bet your life on it," said they;
+"he's a little 'un, but as bold as a lion; the other one got into a blue
+funk, and hid under the bed from him."
+
+But G--kof went away only too soon, and keenly was he regretted in the
+prison.
+
+Our engineers were all most excellent fellows; we had three or four
+fresh batches of them while I was there.
+
+"Our eagles never remain very long with us," said the prisoners;
+"especially when they are good and kind fellows."
+
+It was this G--kof who sent B--ski and myself to work in his bureau, for
+he was partial to exiled nobles. When he left, our condition was still
+fairly endurable, for there was another engineer there who showed us
+much sympathy and friendship. We copied reports for some time, and our
+handwriting was getting to be very good, when an order came from the
+authorities that we were to be sent back to hard labour as before; some
+spiteful person had been at work. At bottom we were rather pleased, for
+we were quite tired of copying.
+
+For two whole years I worked in company with B--ski, all the time in the
+shops, and many a gossip did we have about our hopes for the future and
+our notions and convictions. Good B--ski had a very odd mind, which
+worked in a strange, exceptional way. There are some people of great
+intelligence who indulge in paradox unconscionably; but when they have
+undergone great and constant sufferings for their ideas and made great
+sacrifices for them, you can't drive their notions out of their heads,
+and it is cruel to try it. When you objected something to B--ski's
+propositions, he was really hurt, and gave you a violent answer. He was,
+perhaps, more in the right than I was as to some things wherein we
+differed, but we were obliged to give one another up, very much to my
+regret, for we had many thoughts in common.
+
+As years went on M--tski became more and more sombre and melancholy; he
+became a prey to despair. During the earliest part of my imprisonment he
+was communicative enough, and let us see what was going on in him. When
+I arrived at the prison he had just finished his second year. At first
+he took a lively interest in the news I brought, for he knew nothing of
+what had been going on in the outer world; he put questions to me,
+listened eagerly, showed emotion, but, bit by bit, his reserve grew on
+him and there was no getting at his thoughts. The glowing coals were all
+covered up with ashes. Yet it was plain that his temper grew sourer and
+sourer. "_Je hais ces brigands_,"[10] he would say, speaking of convicts
+I had got to know something of; I never could make him see any good in
+them. He really did not seem to fully enter into the meaning of anything
+I said on their behalf, though he would sometimes seem to agree in a
+listless sort of way. Next day it was just as before: "_je hais ces
+brigands_." (We used often to speak French with him; so one of the
+overseers of the works, the soldier, Dranichnikof, used always to call
+us _aides chirurgiens_, God knows why!) M--tski never seemed to shake
+off his usual apathy except when he spoke of his mother.
+
+"She is old and infirm," he said; "she loves me better than anything in
+the world, and I don't even know if she's still living. If she learns
+that I've been whipped----"
+
+M--tski was not a noble, and had been whipped before he was transported.
+When the recollection of this came up in his mind he gnashed his teeth,
+and could not look anybody in the face. In the latest days of his
+imprisonment he used to walk to and fro, quite alone for the most part.
+One day, at noon, he was summoned to the Governor, who received him with
+a smile on his lips.
+
+"Well, M--tski, what were your dreams last night?" asked the Governor.
+
+Said M--tski to me later, "When he said that to me a shudder ran through
+me; I felt struck at the heart."
+
+His answer was, "I dreamed that I had a letter from my mother."
+
+"Better than that, better!" replied the Governor. "You are free; your
+mother has petitioned the Emperor, and he has granted her prayer. Here,
+here's her letter, and the order for your dismissal. You are to leave
+the jail without delay."
+
+He came to us pale, scarcely able to believe in his good fortune.
+
+We congratulated him. He pressed our hands with his own, which were
+quite cold, and trembled violently. Many of the convicts wished him joy;
+they were really glad to see his happiness.
+
+He settled in Siberia, establishing himself in our town, where a little
+after that they gave him a place. He used often to come to the jail to
+bring us news, and tell us all that was going on, as often as he could
+talk with us. It was political news that interested him chiefly.
+
+Besides the four Poles, the political convicts of whom I spoke just now,
+there were two others of that nation, who were sentenced for very short
+periods; they had not much education, but were good, simple,
+straightforward fellows. There was another, A--tchoukooski, quite a
+colourless person; one more I must mention, B--in, a man well on in
+years, who impressed us all very unfavourably indeed. I don't know what
+he had been sentenced for, although he used to tell us some story or
+other about it pretty frequently. He was a person of a vulgar, mean
+type, with the coarse manner of an enriched shopkeeper. He was quite
+without education, and seemed to take interest in nothing except what
+concerned his trade, which was that of a painter, a sort of
+scene-painter he was; he showed a good deal of talent in his work, and
+the authorities of the prison soon came to know about his abilities, so
+he got employment all through the town in decorating walls and ceilings.
+In two years he beautified the rooms of nearly all the prison officials,
+who remunerated him handsomely, so he lived pretty comfortably. He was
+sent to work with three other prisoners, two of whom learned the
+business thoroughly; one of these, T--jwoski, painted nearly as well as
+B--in himself. Our Major, who had rooms in one of the government
+buildings, sent for B--in, and gave him a commission to decorate the
+walls and ceilings there, which he did so effectively, that the suite of
+rooms of the Governor-General were quite put out of countenance by those
+of the Major. The house itself was a ramshackle old place, while the
+interior, thanks to B--in, was as gay as a palace. Our worthy Major was
+hugely delighted, went about rubbing his hands, and told everybody that
+he should look out for a wife at once, "a fellow _can't_ remain single
+when he lives in a place like that;" he was quite serious about it. The
+Major's satisfaction with B--in and his assistants went on increasing.
+They occupied a month in the work at the Major's house. During those
+memorable days the Major seemed to get into a different frame of mind
+about us, and began to be quite kind to us political prisoners. One day
+he sent for J--ski.
+
+"J--ski," said he, "I've done you wrong; I had you beaten for nothing.
+I'm very sorry. Do you understand? I'm very sorry. I, Major ----"
+
+J--ski answered that he understood perfectly.
+
+"Do you understand? I, who am set over you, I have sent for you to ask
+your pardon. You can hardly realise it, I suppose. What are you to me,
+fellow? A worm, less than a crawling worm; you're a convict, while I, by
+God's grace,[11] am a Major; Major ----, _do_ you understand?"
+
+J--ski answered that he quite well understood it all.
+
+"Well, I want to be friends with you. But can you appreciate what I'm
+doing? Can you feel the greatness of soul I'm showing--feel and
+appreciate it? Just think of it; I, I, the Major!" etc. etc.
+
+J--ski told me of this scene. There was, then, some human feeling left
+in this drunken, unruly, and tormenting brute. Allowing for the man's
+notions of things, and feeble faculties, one cannot deny that this was a
+generous proceeding on his part. Perhaps he was a little less drunk than
+usual, perhaps more; who can tell?
+
+The Major's glorious idea of marrying came to nothing; the rooms got all
+their bravery, but the wife was not forthcoming. Instead of going to the
+altar in that agreeable way, he was pulled up before the authorities and
+sent to trial. He received orders to send in his resignation. Some of
+his old sins had found him out, it seems; things done when he had been
+superintendent of police in our town. This crushing blow came down upon
+him without notice, quite suddenly. All the convicts were greatly
+rejoiced when they heard the great news; it was high day and holiday all
+through the jail. The story went abroad that the Major sobbed, and
+cried, and howled like an old woman. But he was helpless in the matter.
+He was obliged to leave his place, sell his two gray horses, and
+everything he had in the world; and he fell into complete destitution.
+We came across him occasionally afterwards in civilian, threadbare
+clothes, and wearing a cap with a cockade; he glanced at us convicts as
+spitefully and maliciously as you please. But without his Major's
+uniform, all the man's glory was gone. While placed over us, he gave
+himself the airs of a being higher than human, who had got into coat and
+breeches; now it was all over, he looked like the lackey he was, and a
+disgraced lackey to boot.
+
+With fellows of this sort, the uniform is the only saving grace; that
+gone, all's gone.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[9] The Decembrists.
+
+[10] French in the original Russian.
+
+[11] Our Major was not the only officer who spoke of himself in that
+lofty way; a good many officers did the same, men who had risen from the
+ranks chiefly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE ESCAPE
+
+
+A little while after the Major resigned, our prison was subjected to a
+thorough reorganization. The "hard labour" hitherto inflicted, and the
+other regulations, were abolished, and the place put upon the footing of
+the military convict establishments of Russia. As a result of this,
+prisoners of the second category were no longer sent there; this class
+was, for the future, to be composed of prisoners who were regarded as
+still on the military footing, that is to say, men who, in spite of
+sentence, did not forfeit for ever their civic _status_. They were
+soldiers still, but had undergone corporal punishment; they were
+sentenced for comparatively short periods, six years at most; when they
+had served their time, or in case of pardon, they went into the ranks
+again, as before. Men guilty of a second offence were sentenced to
+twenty years of imprisonment. Up to the time I speak of, we had a
+section of soldier-prisoners among us, but only because they did not
+know where else to dispose of them. Now the place was to be occupied by
+soldiers exclusively. As to the civilian convicts, who were stripped of
+all civic rights, branded, cropped, and shaven, these were to remain in
+the fortress to finish their time; but as no fresh prisoners of this
+class were to come in, and those there would get their discharge
+successively, at the end of ten years there would be no civilian
+convicts left in the place, according to the arrangements. The line of
+division between the classes of prisoners there was maintained; from
+time to time there came in other military criminals of high position,
+sent to our place for security, before being forwarded to Eastern
+Siberia, for the more aggravated penalties that awaited them there.
+
+There was no change in our general way of life. The work we had to do
+and the discipline observed were the same as before; but the
+administrative system was entirely altered, and made more complex. An
+officer, commandant of companies, was assigned to be at the head of the
+prison; he had under his orders four subaltern officers who mounted
+guard by turns. The "invalids" were superseded by twelve
+non-commissioned officers, and an arsenal superintendent. The convicts
+were divided into sections of ten, and corporals chosen among them; the
+power of these over the others was, as may be supposed, nominal. As
+might be expected, Akim Akimitch got this promotion.
+
+All these new arrangements were confided to the Governor to carry out,
+who remained in superior command over the whole establishment. The
+changes did not go further than this. At first the convicts were not a
+little excited by this movement, and discussed their new guardians a
+good deal among themselves, trying to make out what sort of fellows they
+were; but when they saw that everything went on pretty much as usual
+they quieted down, and things resumed their ordinary course. We had got
+rid of the Major, and that was something; everybody took fresh breath
+and fresh courage. The fear that was in all hearts grew less; we had
+some assurance that in case of need we could go to our superiors and
+lodge our complaint, and that a man could not be punished without cause,
+and would not, unless by mistake.
+
+Brandy was brought in as before, although we had subaltern officers now
+where "invalids" were before. These subalterns were all worthy, careful
+men, who knew their place and business. There were some among them who
+had the idea that they might give themselves grand airs, and treat us
+like common soldiers, but they soon gave it up and behaved like the
+others. Those who did not seem to be well able to get into their heads
+what the ways of our prison really were, had sharp lessons about it from
+the convicts themselves, which led to some lively scenes. One
+sub-officer was confronted with brandy, which was of course too much for
+him; when he was sober again we had a little explanation with him; we
+pointed out that he had been drinking with the prisoners, and that,
+accordingly, etc. etc.; he became quite tractable. The end of it was
+that the subalterns closed their eyes to the brandy business. They went
+to market for us, just as the invalids used to, and brought the
+prisoners white bread, meat, anything that could be got in without too
+much risk. So I never could understand why they had gone to the trouble
+of turning the place into a military prison. The change was made two
+years before I left the place; I had two years to bear of it still.
+
+I see little use in recording all I saw and went through later at the
+convict establishment day by day. If I were to tell it all, all the
+daily and hourly occurrences, I might write twice or thrice as many
+chapters as this book ought to contain, but I should simply tire the
+reader and myself. Substantially all that I might write has been already
+embodied in the narrative as it stands so far; and the reader has had
+the opportunity of getting a tolerable idea of what the life of a
+convict of the second class really was. My wish has been to portray the
+state of things at the establishment, and as it affected myself,
+accurately and yet forcibly; whether I have done so others must judge. I
+cannot pronounce upon my own work, but I think I may well draw it to a
+close; as I move among these recollections of a dreadful past, the old
+suffering comes up again and all but strangles me.
+
+Besides, I cannot be sure of my memory as to all I saw in these last
+years, for the faculty seems blunted as regards the later compared with
+the earlier period of my imprisonment, there is a good deal I am sure I
+have quite forgotten. But I remember only too well how very, very slow
+these last two years were, how very sad, how the days seemed as if they
+never would come to evening, something like water falling drop by drop.
+I remember, too, that I was filled with a mighty longing for my
+resurrection from that grave which gave me strength to bear up, to wait,
+and to hope. And so I got to be hardened and enduring; I lived on
+expectation, I counted every passing day; if there were a thousand more
+of them to pass at the prison I found satisfaction in thinking that one
+of them was gone, and only nine hundred and ninety-nine to come. I
+remember, too, that though I had round me a hundred persons in like
+case, I felt myself more and more solitary, and though the solitude was
+awful I came to love it. Isolated thus among the convict-crowd I went
+over all my earlier life, analysing its events and thoughts minutely; I
+passed my former doings in review, and sometimes was pitiless in
+condemnation of myself; sometimes I went so far as to be grateful to
+fate for the privilege of such loneliness, for only that could have
+caused me so severely to scrutinise my past, so searchingly to examine
+its inner and outer life. What strong and strange new germs of hope came
+in those memorable hours up in my soul! I weighed and decided all sorts
+of issues, I entered into a compact with myself to avoid the errors of
+former years, and the rocks on which I had been wrecked; I laid down a
+programme for my future, and vowed that I would stick to it; I had a
+sort of blind and complete conviction that, once away from that place, I
+should be able to carry out everything I made my mind up to; I looked
+for my freedom with transports of eager desire; I wanted to try my
+strength in a renewed struggle with life; sometimes I was clutched, as
+by fangs, by an impatience which rose to fever heat. It is painful to go
+back to these things, most painful; nobody, I know, can care much about
+it at all except myself; but I write because I think people will
+understand, and because there are those who have been, those who yet
+will be, like myself, condemned, imprisoned, cut off from life, in the
+flower of their age, and in the full possession of all their strength.
+
+But all this is useless. Let me end my memoirs with a narrative of
+something interesting, for I must not close them too abruptly.
+
+What shall it be? Well, it may occur to some to ask whether it was quite
+impossible to escape from the jail, and if during the time I spent there
+no attempt of the kind was made. I have already said that a prisoner who
+has got through two or three years thinks a good deal of it, and, as a
+rule, concludes that it is best to finish his time without running more
+risks, so that he may get his settlement, on the land or otherwise, when
+set at liberty. But those who reckon in this way are convicts sentenced
+for comparatively short times; those who have many years to serve are
+always ready to run some chances. For all that the attempts at escape
+were quite infrequent. Whether that was attributable to the want of
+spirit in the convicts, the severity of the military discipline
+enforced, or, after all, to the situation of the town, little favourable
+to escapes, for it was in the midst of the open steppe, I really cannot
+say. All these motives no doubt contributed to give pause. It was
+difficult enough to get out of the prison at all; in my time two
+convicts tried it; they were criminals of importance.
+
+When our Major had been got rid of, A--v, the spy, was quite alone with
+nobody to back him up. He was still quite young, but his character grew
+in force with every year; he was a bold, self-asserting fellow, of
+considerable intelligence. I think if they had set him at liberty he
+would have gone on spying and getting money in every sort of shameful
+way, but I don't think he would have let himself be caught again; he
+would have turned his experiences as a convict to far too much good for
+that. One trick he practised was that of forging passports, at least so
+I heard from some of the convicts. I think this fellow was ready to risk
+everything for a change in his position. Circumstances gave me the
+opportunity of getting to the bottom of this man's disposition and
+seeing how ugly it was; he was simply revolting in his cold, deep
+wickedness, and my disgust with him was more than I could get over. I do
+believe that if he wanted a drink of brandy, and could only have got it
+by killing some one, he would not have hesitated one moment if it was
+pretty certain the crime would not come out. He had learned there, in
+that jail, to look on everything in the coolest calculating way. It was
+on him that the choice of Koulikoff--of the special section--fell, as we
+are to see.
+
+I have spoken before of Koulikoff. He was no longer young, but full of
+ardour, life, and vigour, and endowed with extraordinary faculties. He
+felt his strength, and wanted still to have a life of his own; there are
+some men who long to live in a rich, abounding life, even when old age
+has got hold of them. I should have been a good deal surprised if
+Koulikoff had _not_ tried to escape; but he did. Which of the two,
+Koulikoff and A--v, had the greater influence over the other I really
+cannot say; they were a goodly couple, and suited each other to a hair,
+so they soon became as thick as possible. I fancy that Koulikoff
+reckoned on A--v to forge a passport for him; besides, the latter was of
+the noble class, belonged to good society, a circumstance out of which a
+good deal could be made if they managed to get back into Russia. Heaven
+only knows what compacts they made, or what plans and hopes they formed;
+if they got as far as Russia they would at all events leave behind them
+Siberia and vagabondage. Koulikoff was a versatile man, capable of
+playing many a part on the stage of life, and had plenty of ability to
+go upon, whatever direction his efforts took. To such persons the jail
+is strangulation and suffocation. So the two set about plotting their
+escape.
+
+But to get away without a soldier to act as escort was impossible; so a
+soldier had to be won. In one of the battalions stationed at our
+fortress was a Pole of middle life--an energetic fellow worthy of a
+better fate--serious, courageous. When he arrived first in Siberia,
+quite young, he had deserted, for he could not stand his sufferings from
+nostalgia. He was captured and whipped. During two years he formed part
+of the disciplinary companies to which offenders are sent; then he
+rejoined his battalion, and, showing himself zealous in the service, had
+been rewarded by promotion to the rank of corporal. He had a good deal
+of self-love, and spoke like a man who had no small conceit of himself.
+
+I took particular notice of the man sometimes when he was among the
+soldiers who had charge of us, for the Poles had spoken to me about him;
+and I got the idea that his longing for his native country had taken the
+form of a chill, fixed, deadly hatred for those who kept him away from
+it. He was the sort of man to stick at nothing, and Koulikoff showed
+that his scent was good, when he pitched on this man to be an accomplice
+in his flight. This corporal's name was Kohler. Koulikoff and he settled
+their plans and fixed the day. It was the month of June, the hottest of
+the year. The climate of our town and neighbourhood was pretty equable,
+especially in summer, which is a very good thing for tramps and
+vagabonds. To make off far after leaving the fortress was quite out of
+the question, it being situated on rising ground and in uncovered
+country, for though surrounded by woods, these are a considerable
+distance away. A disguise was indispensable, and to procure it they must
+manage to get into the outskirts of the town, where Koulikoff had taken
+care some time before to prepare a den of some sort. I don't know
+whether his worthy friends in that part of the town were in the secret.
+It may be presumed they were, though there is no evidence. That year,
+however, a young woman who led a gay life and was very pretty, settled
+down in a nook of that same part of the city, near the county. This
+young person attracted a good deal of notice, and her career promised to
+be something quite remarkable; her nickname was "Fire and Flame." I
+think that she and the fugitives concerted the plans of escape together,
+for Koulikoff had lavished a good deal of attention and money on her for
+more than a year. When the gangs were formed each morning, the two
+fellows, Koulikoff and A--v, managed to get themselves sent out with the
+convict Chilkin, whose trade was that of stove-maker and plasterer, to
+do up the empty barracks when the soldiers went into camp. A--v and
+Koulikoff were to help in carrying the necessary materials. Kohler got
+himself put into the escort on the occasion; as the rules required three
+soldiers to act as escort for two prisoners, they gave him a young
+recruit whom he was doing corporal's duty upon, drilling and training
+him. Our fugitives must have exercised a great deal of influence over
+Kohler to deceive him, to cast his lot in with them, serious,
+intelligent, and reflective man as he was, with so few more years of
+service to pass in the army.
+
+They arrived at the barracks about six o'clock in the morning; there was
+nobody with them. After having worked about an hour, Koulikoff and A--v
+told Chilkin that they were going to the workshop to see some one, and
+fetch a tool they wanted. They had to go carefully to work with Chilkin,
+and speak in as natural a tone as they could. The man was from Moscow,
+by trade a stove-maker, sharp and cunning, keen-sighted, not talkative,
+fragile in appearance, with little flesh on his bones. He was the sort
+of person who might have been expected to pass his life in honest
+working dress, in some Moscow shop, yet here he was in the "special
+section," after many wanderings and transfers among the most formidable
+military criminals; so fate had ordered.
+
+What had he done to deserve such severe punishment? I had not the least
+idea; he never showed the least resentment or sour feeling, and went on
+in a quiet, inoffensive way; now and then he got as drunk as a lord;
+but, apart from that, his conduct was perfectly good. Of course he was
+not in the secret, so he had to be thrown off the scent. Koulikoff told
+him, with a wink, that they were going to get some brandy, which had
+been hidden the day before in the workshop, which suited Chilkin's book
+perfectly; he had not the least notion of what was up, and remained
+alone with the young recruit, while Koulikoff, A--v, and Kohler betook
+themselves to the suburbs of the town.
+
+Half-an-hour passed; the men did not come back. Chilkin began to think,
+and the truth dawned upon him. He remembered that Koulikoff had not
+seemed at all like himself, that he had seen him whispering and winking
+to A--v; he was sure of that, and the whole thing seemed suspicious to
+him. Kohler's behaviour had struck him, too; when he went off with the
+two convicts, the corporal had given the recruit orders what he was to
+do in his absence, which he had never known him do before. The more
+Chilkin thought over the matter the less he liked it. Time went on; the
+convicts did not return; his anxiety was great; for he saw that the
+authorities would suspect him of connivance with the fugitives, so that
+his own skin was in danger. If he made any delay in giving information
+of what had occurred, suspicion of himself would grow into conviction
+that he knew what the men intended when they left him, and he would be
+dealt with as their accomplice. There was no time to lose.
+
+It came into his mind, then, that Koulikoff and A--v had become
+markedly intimate for some time, and that they had been often seen
+laying their heads together behind the barracks, by themselves. He
+remembered, too, that he had more than once fancied that they were up to
+something together.
+
+He looked attentively at the soldier with him as escort; the fellow was
+yawning, leaning on his gun, and scratching his nose in the most
+innocent manner imaginable; so Chilkin did not think it necessary to
+speak of his anxieties to this man: he told him simply to come with him
+to the engineers' workshops. His object was to ask if anybody there had
+seen his companions; but nobody there had, so Chilkin's suspicions grew
+stronger and stronger. If only he could think that they had gone to get
+drunk and have a spree in the outskirts of the town, as Koulikoff often
+did. No, thought Chilkin, that was _not_ so. They would have told him,
+for there was no need to make a mystery of that. Chilkin left his work,
+and went straight back to the jail.
+
+It was about nine o'clock when he reached the sergeant-major, to whom he
+mentioned his suspicions. That officer was frightened, and at first
+could not believe there was anything in it all. Chilkin had, in fact,
+expressed no more than a vague misgiving that all was not as it should
+be. The sergeant-major ran to the Major, who in his turn ran to the
+Governor. In a quarter-of-an-hour all necessary measures were taken. The
+Governor-General was communicated with. As the convicts in question were
+persons of importance, it might be expected that the matter would be
+seriously viewed at St. Petersburg. A--v was classed among political
+prisoners, by a somewhat random official proceeding, it would seem;
+Koulikoff was a convict of the "special section," that is to say, as a
+criminal of the blackest dye, and, what was worse, was an ex-soldier. It
+was then brought to notice that according to the regulations each
+convict of the "special section" ought to have two soldiers assigned as
+escort when he went to work; the regulations had not been observed as
+to this, so that everybody was exposed to serious trouble. Expresses
+were sent off to all the district offices of the municipality, and all
+the little neighbouring towns, to warn the authorities of the escape of
+the two convicts, and a full description furnished of their persons.
+Cossacks were sent out to hunt them up, letters sent to the authorities
+of all adjoining Governmental districts. And everybody was frightened to
+death.
+
+The excitement was quite as great all through the prison; as the
+convicts returned from work, they heard the tremendous news, which
+spread rapidly from man to man; all received it with deep, though secret
+satisfaction. Their emotion was as natural as it was great. The affair
+broke the monotony of their lives, and gave them something to think of;
+but, above all, it was an escape, and as such, something to sympathise
+with deeply, and stirred fibres in the poor fellows which had long been
+without any exciting stimulus; something like hope and a disposition to
+confront their fate set their hearts beating, for the incident seemed to
+show that their hard lot was not hopelessly unchangeable.
+
+"Well, you see they've got off in spite of them! Why shouldn't we?"
+
+The thought came into every man's mind, and made him stiffen his back
+and look at his neighbours in a defiant sort of way. All the convicts
+seemed to grow an inch taller on the strength of it, and to look down a
+bit upon the sub-officers. The heads of the place soon came running up,
+as you may imagine. The Governor now arrived in person. We fellows
+looked at them all with some assurance, with a touch of contempt, and
+with a very set expression of face, as though to say: "Well, you there?
+We can get out of your clutches when we've a mind to."
+
+All the men were quite sure there would be a general searching of
+everything and everybody; so everything that was at all contraband was
+carefully hidden; for the authorities would want to show that precious
+wisdom of theirs which may be reckoned on after the event. The
+expectation was verified; there was a mighty turning of everything
+upside down and topsy-turvy, a general rummage, with the discovery of
+exactly nothing, as they might have known.
+
+When the time came for going out to work after dinner the usual escorts
+were doubled. When night came, the officers and sub-officers on service
+came pouncing on us at every moment to see if we were off our guard, and
+if anything could be got out of us; the lists were gone over once more
+than the usual number of times, which extra mustering only gave more
+trouble for nothing; we were hunted out of the court-yard that our names
+might be gone through again. Then, when in barrack, they reckoned us up
+another time, as if they never could be done with the exercise.
+
+The convicts were not at all disturbed by all this bustling absurdity.
+They put on a very unconcerned demeanour, and, as is always the case in
+such a conjuncture, behaved in the prettiest manner all that evening and
+night. "We won't give them any handle anyhow," was the general feeling.
+The question with the authorities was whether some among us were not in
+complicity with those who had got away, so a careful watch was kept over
+our doings, and a careful ear for our conversations; but nothing came of
+it.
+
+"Not such fools, those fellows, as to leave anybody behind who was in
+the secret!"
+
+"When you go at that sort of thing you lie low and play low!"
+
+"Koulikoff and A--v know enough to have covered up their tracks. They've
+done the trick in first-rate style, keeping things to themselves;
+they've mizzled, the rascals; clever chaps, those, they could get
+through shut doors!"
+
+The glory of Koulikoff and A--v had grown a hundred cubits higher than
+it was. Everybody was proud of them. Their exploit, it was felt, would
+be handed down to the most distant posterity, and outlive the jail
+itself.
+
+"Rattling fellows, those!" said one.
+
+"Can't get away from here, eh? _That's_ their notion, is it? Just look
+at those chaps!"
+
+"Yes," said a third, looking very superior, "but who _is_ it that has
+got away? Tip-top fellows. _You_ can't hold a candle to them."
+
+At any other time the man to whom anything of that sort was said would
+have replied angrily enough, and defended himself; now the observation
+was met with modest silence.
+
+"True enough," was said. "Everybody's not a Koulikoff or an A--v, you've
+got to show what you're made of before you've a right to speak."
+
+"I say, pals, after all, why do we remain in the place?" struck in a
+prisoner seated by the kitchen window; he spoke drawlingly, but the man,
+you could see, enjoyed it all; he slowly rubbed his cheek with the palm
+of his hand. "Why do we stop? It's no life at all, we've been buried,
+though we're alive and kicking. Now _isn't_ it so?"
+
+"Oh, curse it, you can't get out of prison as easy as shaking off an old
+boot. I tell you it sticks to your calves. What's the good of pulling a
+long face over it?"
+
+"But, look here; there is Koulikoff now," began one of the most eager, a
+mere lad.
+
+"Koulikoff!" exclaimed another, looking askance at the young fellow.
+"Koulikoff! They don't turn out Koulikoffs by the dozen."
+
+"And A--v, pals, there's a lad for you!"
+
+"Aye, aye, he'll get Koulikoff just where he wants him, as often as he
+wants him. He's up to everything, he is."
+
+"I wonder how far they've got; that's what _I_ want to know," said one.
+
+Then the talk went off into details: Had they got far from the town?
+What direction did they go off in? _Which_ gave them the best chance?
+Then they discussed distances, and as there were convicts who knew the
+neighbourhood well, these were attentively listened to.
+
+Next, they talked over the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages, of
+whom they seemed to think as badly as possible. There was nobody in the
+neighbourhood, the convicts believed, who would hesitate at all as to
+the course to be pursued; nothing would induce them to help the
+runaways; quite the other way, these people would hunt them down.
+
+"If you only knew what bad fellows these peasants are! Rascally brutes!"
+
+"Peasants, indeed! Worthless scamps!"
+
+"These Siberians are as bad as bad can be. They think nothing of killing
+a man."
+
+"Oh, well, our fellows----"
+
+"Yes, that's it, they may come off second best. Our fellows are as
+plucky as plucky can be."
+
+"Well, if we live long enough, we shall hear something about them soon."
+
+"Well, now, what do you _think_? Do you think they really will get clean
+away?"
+
+"I am sure, as I live, that they'll never be caught," said one of the
+most excited, giving the table a great blow with his fist.
+
+"Hm! That's as things turn out."
+
+"I'll tell you what, friends," said Skouratof, "if I once got out, I'd
+stake my life they'd never get me again."
+
+"_You?_"
+
+Everybody burst out laughing. They would hardly condescend to listen to
+him; but Skouratof was not to be put down.
+
+"I tell you I'd stake my life on it!" with great energy. "Why, I made my
+mind up to _that_ long ago. I'd find means of going through a key-hole
+rather than let them lay hands on me."
+
+"Oh, don't you fear, when your belly got empty you'd just go creeping
+to a peasant and ask him for a morsel of something."
+
+Fresh laughter.
+
+"I ask him for victuals? You're a liar!"
+
+"Hold your jaw, can't you? We know what you were sent here for. You and
+your Uncle Vacia killed some peasant for bewitching your cattle."[12]
+
+More laughter. The more serious among them seemed very angry and
+indignant.
+
+"You're a liar," cried Skouratof; "it's Mikitka who told you that; I
+wasn't in that at all, it was Uncle Vacia; don't you mix my name up in
+it. I'm a Moscow man, and I've been on the tramp ever since I was a very
+small thing. Look here, when the priest taught me to read the liturgy,
+he used to pinch my ears, and say, 'Repeat this after me: Have pity on
+me, Lord, out of Thy great goodness;' and he used to make me say with
+him, 'They've taken me up and brought me to the police-station out of
+Thy great goodness,' and the like. I tell you that went on when I was
+quite a little fellow."
+
+All laughed heartily again; that was what Skouratof wanted; he liked
+playing clown. Soon the talk became serious again, especially among the
+older men and those who knew a good deal about escapes. Those among the
+younger convicts who could keep themselves quiet enough to listen,
+seemed highly delighted. A great crowd was assembled in and about the
+kitchen. There were none of the warders about; so everybody could give
+vent to his feelings in talk or otherwise. One man I noticed who was
+particularly enjoying himself, a Tartar, a little fellow with high
+cheek-bones, and a remarkably droll face. His name was Mametka, he could
+scarcely speak Russian at all, but it was odd to see the way he craned
+his neck forward into the crowd, and the childish delight he showed.
+
+"Well, Mametka, my lad, _iakchi_."
+
+"_Iakchi, ouk, iakchi!_" said Mametka as well as he could, shaking his
+grotesque head. "_Iakchi._"
+
+"They'll never catch them, eh? _Iok._"
+
+"_Iok, iok!_" and Mametka waggled his head and threw his arms about.
+
+"You're a liar, then, and I don't know what you're talking about. Hey!"
+
+"That's it, that's it, _iakchi_!" answered poor Mametka.
+
+"All right, good, _iakchi_ it is!"
+
+Skouratof gave him a thump on the head, which sent his cap down over his
+eyes, and went out in high glee, and Mametka was quite chapfallen.
+
+For a week or so a very tight hand was kept on everybody in the jail,
+and the whole neighbourhood was repeatedly and carefully searched. How
+they managed it I cannot tell, but the prisoners always seemed to know
+all about the measures taken by the authorities for recovering the
+runaways. For some days, according to all we heard, things went very
+favourably for them; no traces whatever of them could be found. Our
+convicts made very light of all the authorities were about, and were
+quite at their ease about their friends, and kept saying that nothing
+would ever be found out about them.
+
+All the peasants round about were roused, we were told, and watching all
+the likely places, woods, ravines, etc.
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" said our fellows, who had a grin on their faces
+most of the time, "they're hidden at somebody's place who's a friend."
+
+"That's certain; they're not the fellows to chance things, they've made
+all sure."
+
+The general idea was, in fact, that they were still concealed in the
+suburbs of the town, in a cellar, waiting till the hue and cry was over,
+and for their hair to grow; that they would remain there perhaps six
+months at least, and then quietly go off. All the prisoners were in the
+most fanciful and romantic state of mind about the things. Suddenly,
+eight days after the escape, a rumour spread that the authorities were
+on their track. This rumour was at first treated with contempt, but
+towards evening there seemed to be more in it. The convicts became much
+excited. Next morning it was said in the town that the runaways had been
+caught, and were being brought back. After dinner there were further
+details; the story was that they had been seized at a hamlet, seventy
+versts away from the town. At last we had fully confirmed tidings. The
+sergeant-major positively asserted, immediately after an interview with
+the Major, that they would be brought into the guard-house that very
+night. They were taken; there could be no doubt of it.
+
+It is difficult to convey an adequate idea of the way the convicts were
+affected by the news. At first their rage was great, then they were
+deeply dejected. Then they began to be bitter and sarcastic, pouring all
+their scorn, not on the authorities, but on the runaways who had been
+such fools as to get caught. A few began this, then nearly all joined,
+except a small number of the more serious, thoughtful ones, who held
+their tongues, and seemed to regard the thoughtless fellows with great
+contempt.
+
+Poor Koulikoff and A--v were now just as heartily abused as they had
+been glorified before; the men seemed to take a delight in running them
+down, as though in being caught they had done something wantonly
+offensive to their mates. It was said, with high contempt, that the
+fellows had probably got hungry and couldn't stand it, and had gone into
+a village to ask bread of the peasants, which, according to tramp
+etiquette, it appears, is to come down very low in the world indeed. In
+this supposition the men turned out to be quite mistaken; for what had
+happened was that the tracks of the runaways out of the town were
+discovered and followed up; they were ascertained to have got into a
+wood, which was surrounded, so that the fugitives had no recourse but
+to give themselves up.
+
+They were brought in that night, tied hands and feet, under armed
+escort. All the convicts ran hastily to the palisades to see what would
+be done with them; but they saw nothing except the carriages of the
+Governor and the Major, which were waiting in front of the guard-house.
+The fugitives were ironed and locked up separately, their punishment
+being adjourned till the next day. The prisoners began all to sympathise
+with the unhappy fellows when they heard how they had been taken, and
+learned that they could not help themselves, and the anxiety about the
+issue was keen.
+
+"They'll get a thousand at least."
+
+"A thousand, is it? I tell you they'll have it till the life is beaten
+out of them. A--v may get off with a thousand, but the other they'll
+kill; why, he's in the 'special section.'"
+
+They were wrong. A--v was sentenced to five hundred strokes, his
+previous good conduct told in his favour, and this was his first prison
+offence. Koulikoff, I believe, had fifteen hundred. The punishment, upon
+the whole, was mild rather than severe.
+
+The two men showed good sense and feeling, for they gave nobody's name
+as having helped them, and positively declared that they had made
+straight for the woods without going into anybody's house. I was very
+sorry for Koulikoff; to say nothing of the heavy beating he got; he had
+thrown away all his chances of having his lot as a prisoner lightened.
+Later he was sent to another convict establishment. A--v did not get all
+he was sentenced to; the physicians interfered, and he was let off. But
+as soon as he was safe in the hospital he began blowing his trumpet
+again, and said he would stick at nothing now, and that they should soon
+see what he would do. Koulikoff was not changed a bit, as decorous as
+ever, and gave himself just the same airs as ever; manner or words to
+show that he had had such an adventure. But the convicts looked on him
+quite differently; he seemed to have come down a good deal in their
+estimation, and now to be on their own level every way, instead of being
+a superior creature. So it was that poor Koulikoff's star paled; success
+is everything in this world.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[12] The expression of the original is untranslatable; literally "you
+killed a cattle-kill." This phrase means murder of a peasant, male or
+female, supposed to bewitch cattle. We had in our jail a murderer who
+had done this cattle-kill.--DOSTOIEFFSKY'S NOTE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+FREEDOM!
+
+
+This incident occurred during my last year of imprisonment. My
+recollection of what occurred this last year is as keen as of the events
+of the first years; but I have gone into detail enough. In spite of my
+impatience to be out, this year was the least trying of all the years I
+spent there. I had now many friends and acquaintances among the
+convicts, who had by this time made up their minds very much in my
+favour. Many of them, indeed, had come to feel a sincere and genuine
+affection for me. The soldier who was assigned to accompany my friend
+and myself--simultaneously discharged--out of the prison, very nearly
+cried when the time for leaving came. And when we were at last in full
+freedom, staying in the rooms of the Government building placed at our
+disposal for the month we still spent in the town, this man came nearly
+every day to see us. But there were some men whom I could never soften
+or win any regard from--God knows why--and who showed just the same hard
+aversion for me at the last as at the first; something we could not get
+over stood between us.
+
+I had more indulgences during the last year. I found among the military
+functionaries of our town old acquaintances, and even some old
+schoolfellows, and the renewal of these relations helped me. Thanks to
+them I got permission to have some money, to write to my family, and
+even to have some books. For some years I had not had a single volume,
+and words would fail to tell the strange, deep emotion and excitement
+which the first book I read at the jail caused me. I began to devour it
+at night, when the doors were closed, and read it till the break of day.
+It was a number of a review, and it seemed to me like a messenger from
+the other world. As I read, my life before the prison days seemed to
+rise up before me in sharp definition, as of some existence independent
+of my own, which another soul had had. Then I tried to get some clear
+idea of my relation to current events and things; whether my arrears of
+knowledge and experience were too great to make up; whether the men and
+women out of doors had lived and gone through many things and great
+during the time I was away from them; and great was my desire to
+thoroughly understand what was _now_ going on, _now_ that I could know
+something about it all at last. All the words I read were as palpable
+things, which I wanted rather to feel sensibly than get mere meaning out
+of; I tried to see more in the text than _could_ be there. I imagined
+some mysterious meanings that _must_ be in them, and tried at every page
+to see allusions to the past, with which my mind was familiar, whether
+they were there or not; at every turn of the leaf I sought for traces of
+what had deeply moved people before the days of my bondage; and deep was
+my dejection when it was forced on my mind that a new state of things
+had arisen; a new life, among my kind, which was alien to my knowledge
+and my sentiments. I felt as if I was a straggler, left behind and lost
+in the onward march of mankind.
+
+Yes, there were indeed arrears, if the word is not too weak.
+
+For the truth is, that another generation had come up, and I knew it
+not, and it knew not me. At the foot of one article I saw the name of
+one who had been dear to me; with what avidity I flung myself on _that_
+paper! But the other names were nearly all new to me; new workers had
+come upon the scene, and I was eager to know their doings and
+themselves. It made me feel nearly desperate to have so few books, and
+to know how hard it would be to get more. At an earlier date, in the old
+Major's time, it was a dangerous thing indeed to bring books into the
+jail. If one was found when the whole place was searched, as was
+regularly done, great was the disturbance, and no efforts were spared to
+find out how they got in, and who had helped in the offence. I did not
+want to be subjected to insulting scrutiny, and, if I had, it would have
+been useless. I _had_ to live without books, and did, shut up in myself,
+tormenting myself with many a question and problem on which I had no
+means of throwing any light. But I can _never_ tell it all.
+
+It was in winter that I came in, so in winter I was to leave, on the
+anniversary-day. Oh, with what impatience did I look forward to the
+thrice-blessed winter! How gladly did I see the summer die out, the
+leaves turn yellow on the trees, the grass turn dry over the wide
+steppe! Summer is gone at last! the winds of autumn howl and groan, the
+first snow falls in whirling flakes. The winter, so long, long-prayed
+for, is come, come at last. Oh, how the heart beats with the thought
+that freedom was really, at last, at last, close at hand. Yet it was
+strange, as the time of times, the day of days, grew nearer and nearer,
+so did my soul grow quieter and quieter. I was annoyed at myself,
+reproached myself even with being cold, indifferent. Many of the
+convicts, as I met them in the court-yard when the day's work was done,
+used to get out, and talk with me to wish me joy.
+
+"Ah, little Father Alexander Petrovitch, you'll soon be out now! And
+here you'll leave us poor devils behind!"
+
+"Well, Mertynof, have you long to wait still?" I asked the man who
+spoke.
+
+"I! Oh, good Lord, I've seven years of it yet to weary through."
+
+Then the man sighed with a far-away, wandering look, as if he was gazing
+into those intolerable days to come.... Yes, many of my companions
+congratulated me in a way that showed they really felt what they said. I
+saw, too, that there was more disposition to meet me as man to man, they
+drew nearer to me as I was to leave them; the halo of freedom began to
+surround me, and caring for that they cared more for me. It was in this
+spirit they bade me farewell.
+
+K--schniski, a young Polish noble, a sweet and amiable person, was very
+fond, about this time, of walking in the court-yard with me. The
+stifling nights in the barracks did him much harm, so he tried his best
+to keep his health by getting all the exercise and fresh air he could.
+
+"I am looking forward impatiently to the day when _you_ will be set
+free," he said with a smile one day, "for when you go I shall _realise_
+that I have just one year more of it to undergo."
+
+Need I say what I can yet not help saying, that freedom in idea always
+seemed to us who were there something _more_ free than it ever can be in
+reality? That was because our fancy was always dwelling upon it.
+Prisoners always exaggerate when they think of freedom and look on a
+free man; we did certainly; the poorest servant of one of the officers
+there seemed a sort of king to us, everything we could imagine in a free
+man, compared with ourselves at least; he had no irons on his limbs, his
+head was not shaven, he could go where and when he liked, with no
+soldiers to watch and escort him.
+
+The day before I was set free, as night fell I went _for the last time_
+all through and all round the prison. How many a thousand times had I
+made the circuit of those palisades during those ten years! There, at
+the rear of the barracks, had I gone to and fro during the whole of that
+first year, a solitary, despairing man. I remember how I used to reckon
+up the days I had still to pass there--thousands, thousands! God! how
+long ago it seemed. There's the corner where the poor prisoned eagle
+wasted away; Petroff used often to come to me at that place. It seemed
+as if the man would never leave my side now; he would place himself by
+my side and walk along without ever saying a word, as though he knew all
+my thoughts as well as myself, and there was always a strange,
+inexplicable sort of wondering look on the man's face.
+
+How many a mental farewell did I take of the black, squared beams in our
+barracks! Ah, me! How much joyless youth, how much strength for which
+use there was none, was buried, lost in those walls!--youth and strength
+of which the world might surely have made _some_ use. For I must speak
+my thoughts as to this: the hapless fellows there were perhaps the
+strongest, and, in one way or another, the most gifted of our people.
+There was all that strength of body and of mind lost, hopelessly lost.
+Whose fault is that?
+
+Yes; whose fault _is_ that?
+
+The next day, at an early hour, before the men were mustered for work, I
+went through all the barracks to bid the men a last farewell. Many a
+vigorous, horny hand was held out to me with right good-will. Some
+grasped and shook my hand as though all their hearts went with the act;
+but these were the more generous souls. Most of the poor fellows seemed
+so much to feel that, for them, I was already a man changed by what was
+coming, that they could feel scarce anything else. They knew that I had
+friends in the town, that I was going away at once to _gentlemen_, that
+I should sit at their table as their equal. This the poor fellows felt;
+and, although they did their best as they took my hand, that hand could
+not be the hand of an equal. No; I, too, was a gentleman now. Some
+turned their backs on me, and made no reply to my parting words. I
+think, too, that I saw looks of aversion on some faces.
+
+The drum beat; all the convicts went to their work; and I was left to
+myself. Souchiloff had got up before everybody that morning, and now set
+himself tremblingly to the task of getting ready for me a last cup of
+tea. Poor Souchiloff! How he cried when I gave him my clothes, my
+shirts, my trouser-straps, and some money.
+
+"'Tain't that, 'tain't that," he said, and he bit his trembling lips,
+"it's that I am going to lose you, Alexander Petrovitch! What _shall_ I
+do without you?"
+
+There was Akim Akimitch, too; him, also, I bade farewell.
+
+"Your turn to go will come soon, I pray," said I.
+
+"Ah, no! I shall remain here long, long, very long yet," he just managed
+to say, as he pressed my hand. I threw myself on his neck; we kissed.
+
+Ten minutes after the convicts had gone out, my companion and myself
+left the jail _for ever_. We went to the blacksmith's shop, where our
+irons were struck off. We had no armed escort, we went there attended by
+a single sub-officer. It was convicts who struck off our irons in the
+engineers' workshop. I let them do it for my friend first, then went to
+the anvil myself. The smiths made me turn round, seized my leg, and
+stretched it on the anvil. Then they went about the business
+methodically, as though they wanted to make a very neat job of it
+indeed.
+
+"The rivet, man, turn the rivet first," I heard the master smith say;
+"there, so, so. Now, a stroke of the hammer!"
+
+The irons fell. I lifted them up. Some strange impulse made me long to
+have them in my hands for one last time. I couldn't realise that, only a
+moment before, they had been on my limbs.
+
+"Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye!" said the convicts in their broken
+voices; but they seemed pleased as they said it.
+
+Yes, farewell!
+
+Liberty! New life! Resurrection from the dead!
+
+Unspeakable moment!
+
+
+THE END
+
+THE TEMPLE PRESS, PRINTERS, LETCHWORTH
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The House of the Dead or Prison Life
+in Siberia, by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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