CHAPTER XXXII

THE DEATH OF THE TSAR—NEW MANIFESTOES—THE CENSUS

“Do you know that the Tsar is very ill? They say the doctors are doubtful of his recovery.” A well-known official addressed me one day in these words.

The unexpected news surprised me very much. It had been a general belief that Alexander III., of whose herculean strength many stories were current, would attain a great age, and so be able to carry on his reactionary policy for many years to come; and now suddenly there shone a ray of hope, for even in Russia it is usual to expect much of a new ruler.

In November, 1894, came tidings of the Tsar’s death; and soon afterwards two manifestoes were announced—one for the marriage of Nicholas II., and one for his coronation. This time I was not excluded. By the provisions of the first manifesto the entire term of my punishment was shortened by a third, i.e. by four years and some months; but this “grace” came when I had altogether only ten more months of convict life before me! By the second manifesto the time I had to wait before I could pass from the category of exile to that of simple peasant was altered from ten to four years. When I was told of the first manifesto I was also informed that I should have to go to Yakutsk as an exile: but eventually, in consequence of various circumstances, I did not avail myself of either proclamation. Private reasons occasioned 317my preferring to remain in Kara; so I did not go into exile at all, but remained where I was as a convict, having obtained the Governor’s permission to do so.

One cold December day in 1896 I suddenly heard the sound of sleigh-bells, and a sledge stopped before my house. The door opened, and a man entered wrapped in sheepskin and dohà.[110]

When he had emerged from his furs I recognised our starshinà,[111] an important functionary known and feared far and near. His wisdom and firmness had secured for this representative of the peasants’ self-government a universal respect far above his social position. He was strong-minded and independent, and was said to be a very adroit and energetic man, but also hard, and morally not quite above reproach. He lived about thirty versts from my abode, and had only visited me on one former occasion. I therefore concluded that only some important reason could have induced him to come so far in the bitter cold. According to Siberian custom, he did not at once begin upon his business; but after he had drunk some glasses of hot tea and eaten something, he laid the case before me as follows:—

The Government had issued orders that a census of the whole population should be taken on an appointed day throughout the whole immense empire. For this purpose there would be required a large number of capable persons such as in Russia it was not very easy to find, and still less so in Siberia. The local authorities were hard put to it on this account, and the census superintendent of the district had consulted with his subordinates how to solve the problem. When affairs at Kara and the neighbouring villages came to be discussed, our starshinà had declared that he would only undertake the business on one condition, 318namely, that I should help him. I was the only fit person; without me the thing would be impossible. The census superintendent had nothing to say against my participation in the work, and even the prìstav (against whom I had drawn up the complaint) could make no objection, though he himself was to take an active part in the proceedings. He had, in fact, to superintend the taking of the census in his own district, and if I were to assist I should be directly responsible to him.

The starshinà explained all this to me, and asked if I would consent. I agreed immediately; for the work involved would be a welcome relief to the monotony of my life, and was for a useful end. One circumstance only made me a little anxious—association with the prìstav might be awkward. However, the starshinà assured me that the man heartily regretted that old affair, would gladly have it forgotten, and bore me no grudge. One other obstacle—the difficulty of obtaining permission from the superintendent of the convict settlement—the starshinà himself undertook to remove.

The business was soon arranged, and I—the “political criminal”—was suddenly clothed with official dignity. I was to take the census in a village about fifteen versts away, with a large population of about a thousand souls; and I was then to enumerate the people of another village in conjunction with the pope.[112]

It was very interesting to look up these peculiar people in their own homes and to make personal acquaintance with them. Of course, there were many comical episodes and absurd misunderstandings; and on the other hand, I had glimpses of very sad—even tragic—circumstances.

My trouble was so far rewarded that the inhabitants expressed their gratitude to me in various ways, and the officials seemed to be impressed by my promptitude. I had accomplished my task some little time previously when one day in January, 1897, the starshinà paid me 319another visit. The good man had again something to ask me. It was prescribed by the instructions that the head of every census-area should finally call together a certain number of the persons who had undertaken the work of enumeration in his district—one from each commune—to correct the results and draw up a general report.

The head of our district was, as I have said, my old opponent the prìstav; and I now learned that that gentleman was particularly desirous to persuade me, through the mediation of the starshinà, to represent our commune—the Shilkìnskaya Vòiost—at the committee of census-takers for his district.

The proposal had much to attract me. For more than eleven years I had never left Kara, and I knew only the adjacent villages. Now I was offered the chance of travelling a distance of some hundreds of versts, and that in a province which, as I was aware, contained much that was of great interest. The work of drawing up the general report likewise interested me. The only objection was association with a man I had come against in such an unpleasant way; but the eloquence of the starshinà again prevailed over my doubts, and I agreed to undertake the task. Permission for me to leave my place of internment was at once given, and I set off on my journey.

Of course I travelled at the State’s expense. I received a pass from the Governor, which entitled me to requisition horses for my use wherever I went, and to lodge in the zèmskaya kvàrtira, or official residences;[113] in short, I was for the time being an official travelling on Government business.

A journey of the kind in a Siberian winter is no trifling matter. I was clad in furs, a dohà over all the rest, and so wrapped up in a fur rug that I could hardly move in the 320sledge. The road ran for the most of the way through a practically uninhabited part of the province, a hilly, thickly wooded country, and the horses had hard work to get the sledge along. Every thirty or forty versts we came to a halting-station, where the horses were changed. When I arrived everyone was always most subservient and polite, giving me such a reception as befitted a very important official, which was sometimes extremely funny. At the first station where I was to spend the night, the elder of the village displayed a perfect fever of official zeal. I arrived late in the evening, and had at once sought my bed, when the man came to me, much disturbed.

“Has your Excellency any orders for me?”

I begged him to see that horses were ready for my start next morning; but that did not seem to satisfy him. He said that my gracious commands should be obeyed, and still insisted on decorating me with a title. When I explained to him who I really was, he admitted “certainly that was another thing”; but orders he was determined to have, notwithstanding, and asked if he should not fetch the census-takers of the village to wait on me. I naturally did not wish to disturb them in the middle of the night, which he could not understand at all. The people of other villages also astonished me by the fervour of their attentions; and I could not quite comprehend it, until I learned that our masterful prìstav had travelled by the same route a few days before, and had spurred up his subordinates with injunctions to receive the “Censor of Shilkinskaya” (as I was entitled) with all honour, and to fulfil his orders most carefully.

As I approached the goal of my journey I met at the stations other census-takers, also on their way to the conference. Among these people a rumour was current that the head of our district had found the lists submitted to him unsatisfactory, and that the whole business would have to be done over again. Of course my colleagues were rather troubled over this, for such an undertaking might 321easily cost them several days’ work, and they had left pressing affairs behind them. Besides, the census-takers received but very scanty remuneration for their exertions—a few roubles only; or, if they preferred it, a medal which the Government had had struck for the purpose.

After two days I arrived at the Stanitsa Aigùnskaya, where the conference was to be held. I had been wondering all this while how my meeting with the prìstav would go off, and he, too, seemed to have had the same anxiety; for I had scarcely awakened next morning when a Cossack came to the zèmskaya kvàrtira, where I and the other census-takers had slept, and announced that the prìstav wished to speak to the Censor of Shilkinskaya. I told the man to say I would come as soon as I could, made a leisurely toilet, and had my breakfast. But in a short time appeared a fat man of about fifty, in the uniform of a police official, who introduced himself as “Head-of-the-census-district-of-so-and-so Bìbikov”—my prìstav, in fact. I on my side announced myself as “Census-taker Deutsch,” and we chatted together most peaceably, as if we had never fallen out in our lives. The tormented man at once poured out his troubles to me. He could not manage his task at all, and confessed that he could not make head or tail of the divers instructions, orders, and circulars of the various authorities; neither did he know how to proceed with the examination of lists and drawing up of the report for his district. And then there were thirty census-takers worrying him, some of whom had come a whole week’s journey from their homes; naturally they wanted to get back, and they were pressing him to release them, but he could not accede to their wishes, as all the lists seemed to him inadequate. His moving tale ended with a petition that I would stand by him; he knew how well I had managed things in my division, and I was the only man who could help him to bring this difficult task to a satisfactory conclusion. Several of the other census-takers, too, urged me to take the thing in hand; and as I was 322interested to see how the work had been started from the beginning, and what a superintendent like the prìstav was expected to do, after some hesitation I consented, for which my quondam enemy thanked me effusively.

When we entered the official building the office was full of people. These were the census-takers, among whom were all kinds of persons—clerks, medical men, schoolmasters, and a great many Cossacks. Directly they saw the prìstav they crowded round him, begging him to try and finish up with them.

“Just look at them!” said the prìstav; “that’s how it goes on every day. It’s enough to drive one mad!”

I made them give me the papers, and tried to master their contents. As I had already guessed, the business was not really so difficult and puzzling as it had appeared to the poor police official; but it was work that did not come within his scope, and he had no notion how to tackle it. At the end of a few hours I had things in train, and could show him what he had to do.

The presence of the census-takers proved to be unnecessary, and they were able to go home next day, for which they were extremely grateful; but I myself had to remain a whole fortnight in the place. There was in fact a great deal of writing to do, and the prìstav and I were hard at it from morning to night. He was always politeness itself to me, and no one who witnessed his charming behaviour now could have believed that he had once given orders to put me in irons. But of course that episode was never alluded to.