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 ^JL^i^y^^,
 
 DRAWN BY HEi 
 
 GEORGE KENNAN. 
 
 LNGH-^Vt-J DY I JOHNSON.
 
 SIBERIA AND THE 
 EXILE SYSTEM 
 
 ^ 
 
 BY GEORGE KEN/nAN 
 
 
 i^y% s^ 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE CENTURY CO. 
 
 1891
 
 Copyright, 1891, by 
 The Century Co. 
 
 The De Vinne Press.
 
 LIBRARY 
 ^^ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 7 5" S SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 ry^HE idea of exploring some of the less known parts of Siberia, 
 JL- and of making, in connection with such exploration, a care- 
 ful study of the exile system, first took definite form in my mind 
 in the year 1879. From such observations as I had been able to 
 make during a residence of two and a half years in the country, 
 and a subsequent journey of five thousand miles overland to St. 
 Petersburg, it seemed to me that Siberia offered to a competent in- 
 vestigator an extremely interesting and promising field of research. 
 To the Russians, who had possessed it in whole or in part for near- 
 ly three centuries, it was, of course, comparatively familiar ground; 
 but to the average American, at that time, it was almost as much 
 a terra incognita as central Africa or Thibet. In 1881 the assas- 
 sination of Alexander II., and the exile of a large number of Rus- 
 sian revolutionists to the mines of the Trans-Baikal, increased my 
 interest in Siberia and intensified my desire not only to study the 
 exile system on the ground, but to investigate the Russian revolu- 
 tionary movement in the only part of the empire where I thought 
 such an investigation could successfully be made, — namely, in the 
 region to which the revolutionists themselves had been banished. 
 It seemed to me a hopeless task to look for nihilists in the cities of 
 St. Petersburg and Moscow, or to seek there an explanation of the 
 political events and the social phenomena that interested me. Most 
 of the leading actors in the revolutionary drama of 1878-79 were al- 
 ready in Siberia ; and if the imperial police could not discover the 
 few who stiU remained at large in European Russia, it was not at 
 all likely that I could. In Siberia, however, communication with 
 exiled nihilists might perhaps be practicable ; and there, if any- 
 where, was to be obtained the information that I desired.
 
 IV PREFACE 
 
 Circninstanees, and the want of time aud means for such an ex- 
 t(Mided journey as I wished to make, prevented me from taking any 
 dotiuite stops in the matter until the summer of 1884, when the^ 
 editor of The Century Magazine became interested in'lny plans, 
 and proposed to me that I should go to Siberia for that periodical 
 and give to it the results of my work, I thereupon made a prelim- 
 inary excursion to St. Petersburg and Moscow for the purpose of 
 collecting material and ascertaining whether or not obstacles were 
 likely to be thrown in my way by the Russian Government. I re- 
 turned in October, fully satisfied that my scheme was a practicable 
 one ; that there was really nothing in Siberia which needed con- 
 cealment ; and that my literary record — so far g,s I had made a 
 record — was such as to predispose the Russian Government in my 
 favor, and to secure for me all the facilities that a friendly investi- 
 gator might reasonably expect. 
 
 The opinions which I held at that time with regard to the Siber- 
 ian exile system and the treatment of political offenders by the 
 Russian Government were set forth fully and frankly in an address 
 that I delivered before the American Geographical Society of 
 New York, in 1882, and in the newspaper controversy to which that 
 address gave rise. I then believed that the Russian Government 
 aud the exile system had been greatly misrepresented by such writ- 
 ers as Stepniak and Prince Kropotkin ; that Siberia was not so 
 terrible a country as Americans had always supposed it to be ; and 
 that the descriptions of Siberian mines and prisons in the just-pub- 
 lished book of the Rev. Heury LansdeU were probably truthful and 
 accurate. I also believed, although I did not say, that the nihilists, 
 terrorists, and political malcontents generally, who had so long kept 
 Russia in a state of alarm and apprehension, were unreasonable 
 and wrong-headed fanatics of the anarchistic type with which we 
 in the United States had become so familiar. In short, all my pre- 
 possessions were favorable to the Russian Government and unfavor- 
 able to the Russian revolutionists. I lay stress upon this fact, not 
 because my opinions at that time had intrinsically any particular 
 weight or importance, but because a just estimate of the results of
 
 PREFACE 
 
 an investigation cannot be formed without some knowledge of the 
 preconceptions and personal bias of the investigator. I also lay 
 stress upon it for the further reason that it partly explains the 
 friendly attitude towards me which was taken by the Russian Gov- 
 ernment, the permission which was given me to inspect prisons and 
 mines, and the comparative immunity from arrest, detention, and 
 imprisonment which I enjoyed, even when my movements and as- 
 sociations were such as justly to render me an object of suspicion 
 to the local Siberian authorities. It is very doubtful whether a 
 traveler who had not already committed himself to views that the 
 Government approved would have been allowed to go to Siberia for 
 the avowed purpose of investigating the exile system, or whether, 
 if permitted to go there, he would have escaped serious trouble 
 when it was discovered that he was associating on terms of friendly 
 intimacy with political criminals of the most dangerous class. In 
 my frequent skirmishes with the police, and with suspicious local 
 oflacials in remote Siberian villages, nothing but the letter which I 
 carried from the Russian Minister of the Interior saved me from 
 summary arrest and imprisonment, or from a search of my person 
 and baggage which probably would have resulted in my expulsion 
 from the empire under guard and in the loss of aU my notes and 
 documentary material. That letter, which was my sheet-anchor in 
 times of storm and stress, would never, I think, have been given 
 ' to me, if I had not publicly defended the Russian Government 
 against some of its numerous assailants, and if it had not been be- 
 lieved that personal pride and a desire to seem consistent probably 
 would restrain me from confessing error, even should I find the 
 prison and exile system worse than I anticipated, and worse than I 
 had represented it to be. How far this belief was well founded, 
 and to what extent my preconceived ideas were in harmony with 
 the facts, I purpose, in the present work, to show. 
 
 I wish it to be clearly understood, however, that I do not aim to 
 present a complete and comprehensive picture of Russian society 
 as a whole, nor to survey every part of the vast field occupied by 
 the Russian Government, nor to set forth, in due order and pro-
 
 VI PREFACE 
 
 portion, all of the coiiiplox, heterogeneous and inter-related facts 
 and phenomena that go to make up the composite national life of a 
 hundred millions of people. A task of such magnitude would ex- 
 ceed my strength, and would carry me far beyond the limits that I 
 have set for myself. All that I aim to do is to give the reader a 
 clear and vivid impression of the scenery, the people, and the cus- 
 toms of Siberia, to record the results of a careful study of the 
 exile system, and to consider the attitude of the Russian Govern- 
 ment toward its subjects so far — and only so far — as may be neces- 
 sary to throw light upon the facts, the characters, or the events by 
 me observed. 
 
 Some of the criticisms that have been made upon the articles on 
 Siberia and the exile system published in The Century Magazine 
 have been based apparently upon the assumption that a survey of 
 any one particular department of national life must necessarily be 
 incomplete and misleading, and that the fair-minded investigator 
 should supplement it by taking into the field of vision a quantity 
 of unrelated facts and phenomena from a dozen other departments. 
 
 " Your articles," certain critics have said, " give a false impres- 
 sion. Your statements with regard to Russian prisons, indiscrim- 
 inate arrests, and the banishment of hundreds of people to Siberia 
 without trial may all be true ; but there are in Russia, nevertheless, 
 thousands of peaceful, happy homes, where fathers and brothers ^ 
 are no more in danger of being arrested and exiled to Siberia than 
 they would be if they lived in the United States. Russia is not a 
 vast prison inhabited only by suspects, convicts, and jailors ; it is 
 full of cultivated, refined, kind-hearted people ; and its Emperor, 
 who is the embodiment of all the domestic virtues, has no higher 
 aim in life than to promote the happiness and prosperity of his be- 
 loved subjects." 
 
 The obvious reply to such criticism as this is that it wholly mis- 
 takes the aim and scope of the work criticised, I did not go to 
 Russia to observe happy homes, nor to make the acquaintance of 
 congenial, kind-hearted people, nor to admire the domestic virtues 
 of the Tsar. I went to Russia to study the working of a penal sys-
 
 PREFACE Vn 
 
 tern, to make the acquaintance of exiles, outcasts, and criminals, 
 and to ascertain bow the Uovernmeut treats its enemies in the 
 prisons and mines of Eastern Siberia. Granted, for the sake of 
 argument, that there are thousands of happy homes in Russia ; that 
 the empii-e does abound in cultivated and kind-hearted people, and 
 that the Tsar is devotedly attached to his wife and children ; what 
 have these facts to do with the sanitary condition of a tumble-down 
 etape in the province of Yakutsk, or with the flogging to death of 
 a young and educated woman at the mines of Kara? The balan- 
 cing of a happy and kind-hearted family in St. Petersburg against 
 an epidemic of typhus fever in the exile forwarding prison at Tomsk 
 is not an evidence of fairness and impartiality, but rather an 
 evidence of an illogical mind. All that fairness and impartiality 
 require of the investigator in any particular field is that he shall set 
 forth, conscientiously, in due relative proportion and without pre- 
 judice, all the significant facts that he has been able to gather in 
 that selected field, and then that he shall draw from the collected 
 facts such conclusions as they may seem to warrant. His work may 
 not have the scope of an encyclopedia, but there is no reason, in the 
 nature of things, why it should not be full, accurate and trustworthy 
 as far as it goes. An investigation of the Indian question in the 
 United States would necessarily deal with a very small part of the 
 varied and complex life of the nation ; but it might, nevertheless, 
 be made as fair and complete, within its limits, as Bryce's "Ameri- 
 can Commonwealth." It would, perhaps, present a dark picture; 
 but to attempt to lighten it by showing that the President of the 
 Republic is a moral man and good to his children, or that there are 
 thousands of happy families in New York that have not been driven 
 from their homes by gold-seekers, or that the dwellers on Common- 
 wealth Avenue in Boston are refined and cultivated people who 
 have never made a practice of selling intoxicating liquor to minors, 
 would be not only illogical, but absurd. If the gloominess of the 
 picture is to be relieved, the proper way to relieve it is to show what 
 has been done to remedy the evils that make it gloomy, and not, by 
 any means, to prove that in some other part of the country, under
 
 Viii PEEFACE 
 
 wholly different eouditions, a picture might be drawn that would 
 be cheerful and inspiriting". 
 
 In the present work I have tried to deal fairly both with the 
 Government and with the exiles. If the Government's contention 
 is not always set forth as fully as may seem to be desirable, it is 
 simply because most of the Government officials to whom I ap- 
 plied for information, both in Siberia and St. Petersburg, either 
 manifested such a disinclination to talk that I could not pursue 
 the subject, or else made such transparent and preposterous at- 
 tempts to deceive me that their statements were merely grotesque. 
 It will be seen, however, that a large part— perhaps more than 
 one half — of my information with regard to Siberian prisons and 
 the working of the exile system has been taken directly from of- 
 ficial sources, and that a very small part of it— probably less than 
 one-fifth— rests upon the statements of exiles or prisoners. I 
 have appended, in the shape of classified groups of facts, a quan- 
 tity of information relating to the exile system obtained by going 
 through ten years' files of Siberian newspapers, as well as a mass of 
 statistics from reports of the Russian prison and medical depart- 
 ments to show the sanitary condition of Siberian prisons and the 
 rate of mortality in exile parties. I was assured by honest and 
 intelligent officers of the exile administration in Siberia that these 
 statistics are often "cooked" in such a manner as to show a much 
 more favorable state of affairs than that which in reality exists, 
 but they are the best official evidence obtainable. In other ap- 
 pendices will be found two reports of Governor-general Aniichin 
 to the Tsar with the Tsar's marginal notes ; a collection of facts 
 bearing upon the treatment of Russian and Siberian authors by 
 the Minister of the Interior, and of Russian and Siberian periodi- 
 cals by the bureau of censorship ; a small collection of revolution- 
 ary documents, and another of laws, rules, and orders of the 
 Government relating to revolutionists, and finally a bibliography 
 of the Russian literature relating to Siberia and the exile system 
 so far as I am acquainted with it. 
 
 The system of spelling Russian names that I have adopted is
 
 PREFACE IX 
 
 that sanctioned by the Royal Geographical Society of Great Brit- 
 ain in 1885, and since that time used by it in all of its publications. 
 Its rules are as follows. 
 
 1. No change will be made in the spelling of words and names 
 that have become, by long usage, familiar to English readers, such 
 as Cossack^ droshky, Moscoiv. 
 
 2. The true sound of the word as locally pronounced will be 
 taken as the basis of the spelling, but only an approximation to 
 the sound is aimed at. 
 
 3. Vowels are pronoiinced as in Italian and consonants as in 
 English. 
 
 4. One accent only is used, the acute, to denote the syllable on 
 which stress is laid. 
 
 5. Every letter is pronounced. When two vowels come together, 
 each one is sounded, though the result, when spoken quickly, is 
 sometimes scarcely to be distinguished from a single sound, as in 
 ai, au, and ei. 
 
 6. The values of the vowels and of the principal consonants are 
 as follows : 
 
 a — has the sound of a in father, au — has the sound of ow in Jiow. 
 
 ei — " " "' ey in tJiey. 
 
 zh — '^ " " s in vision. 
 
 ch — is soft as in church. 
 
 g — is hard as in gun. 
 kh — is guttural as in khan. 
 y — is a consonant as in yard and is never used as a vowel or a 
 terminal. 
 
 An exception will be made to Rule 1 in the case of a few words, 
 such as Czar, nmjik, Nijni, which are misleading in their common 
 English form, and which have been correctly transliterated by such 
 authorities as Wallace, Ralston, and MorfiU. 
 
 An exception will also be made to Rule 2 in the case of certain 
 surnames, such as Kropotkin and Tourguenef, whose possessors 
 have adopted for themselves a definite form of signature in roman 
 letters. A guide, however, to the pronunciation of such surnames 
 will be found in the vocabulary at the end of Volume II. 
 
 e — " 
 
 
 " e in benefit 
 
 i — " 
 
 
 " i in ravine. 
 
 o — " 
 
 
 " in mote. 
 
 u — " 
 
 
 " 00 in boot. 
 
 ai — " 
 
 
 " i in ice.
 
 X PKEFACE 
 
 Before closing this preface I desire to tender my most sincere 
 and hearty thanks to the many friends, acquaintances, and well- 
 wishers throughout European Russia and Siberia who encouraged 
 me in my work, cooperated in my researches, and furnished me 
 with tlie most valuable part of my material. Some of them ari^ po- 
 litical exiles, who imperiled even the wretched future that still 
 remained to them by writing out for me histories of their lives ; 
 some of them are officers of the exile administration who, trusting 
 to my lionor and discretion, gave me without reserve the results of 
 their long experience; and some of them are honest, humane prison 
 officials who, after reporting again and again upon the evils and 
 abuses of the prison system, finally pointed them out to me, as the 
 last possible means of forcing them upon the attention of the Gov- 
 ernment and tlie world. Most of these people I dare not even men- 
 tion by name. Although their characters and their services are 
 such as to make their names worthy of remembrance and honor, it 
 is their misfortune to live in a country where the Government re- 
 gards a frankly expressed opinion as an evidence of ''un trust- 
 worthiness," and treats an effort to improve the condition of things 
 as an offense to be punished. To mention the names of such people, 
 when they live under such a government, is simply to render them 
 objects of suspicion and surveillance, and thus deprive them of the 
 limited power they still exercise for good. All that I can do, there- 
 fore, to show my appreciation of their trust, their kindness, and 
 their aid, is to use the information which they gave me as I believe 
 they would wish it to be used, — in the interest of humanity, free- 
 dom, and good government. For Russia and the Russian people I 
 have the warmest affection and sympathy; and if, by a temperate 
 and well-considered statement of the results of my Siberian inves- 
 tigations, I can make the country and the nation better known to 
 the world, and ameliorate, even little, the lot of tlie ^' unfortunates " 
 to whom " God is high above and the Tsar is far away," I shall be 
 more than repaid for the hardest journey and the most trying ex- 
 perience of my life. 
 
 George Kennan.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I. From St. Petersburg to Perm 1 
 
 II. Across the Siberian Frontier 25 
 
 III. The Flowery Plains of Tobolsk 55 
 
 IV. The Tiumen Forwarding Prison 74 
 
 V. A Siberian Convict Barge 103 
 
 VI. First Impressions of Post Travel 120 
 
 VII. The Great Kirghis Steppe 140 
 
 VIII. Our First Meeting with Political Exiles 168 
 
 IX. Bridle Paths of the Altai 188 
 
 X. Two Colonies of Political Exiles 227 
 
 XI. Exile by Administrative Process 242 
 
 XII. The Province and the City op Tomsk 278 
 
 XIII. The Tomsk Forwarding Prison 302 
 
 XIV. The Life of Political Exiles ^ 322 
 
 XV. The Great Siberian Road 351 
 
 XVI. Deportation by Stape 369
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 George Kennan Frontispiece. 
 
 The Fair-City of Nizhni Novgorod 7 
 
 A Part of the Old Town of Nizhni Novgorod 11 
 
 Water Carrier in a Volga River Village 16 
 
 A Volga River Hamlet 18 
 
 A Peasant Woman of Simbirsk 22 
 
 The City of Perm 26 
 
 A Railroad Verst Post 33 
 
 A Street in Ekaterinburg 37 
 
 Tarantas at a Post Station 46 
 
 A Caravan of Freight Wagons 48 
 
 Bivouac of Freight Wagon Drivers 51 
 
 The Siberian Boundary Post 53 
 
 A Siberian Peasant's House, Barn, and Coubt-Yard Gate ... 67 
 
 The Tiumen Forwarding Prison 82 
 
 The Court-Yard of the Tiumen Prison 85 
 
 Making Up an Exile Party in the Tiumen Prison 88 
 
 Court- Yard of the Women's Prison, Tiumen 93 
 
 Tiumen Laborers Waiting for Employment 104 
 
 The " Real Schule " 106 
 
 *' Voluntary Exiles." (Dobrovolni ) 107 
 
 A Marching Exile Party 109 
 
 A Convict Barge 112 
 
 An Exile Party About to Embark 113 
 
 Exiles Going on Board the Barge 115 
 
 Men's Cage, Convict Barge — Exiles Buying Food 116 
 
 Inside the Women's Cage, Convict Barge 118 
 
 Convict Types 119
 
 XIV ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Our Tarantas 123 
 
 Return of the Miracle-working Ik6n 129 
 
 Huts op Village Gate-Keepers 132 
 
 A Village Gate-Keeper 134 
 
 A Steppe Village 137 
 
 Police Station and Fire Tower in Omsk 141 
 
 The Exile Suburb — Omsk 143 
 
 A Kirghis Encampment 144 
 
 Interior op a Kirghis Kibitka 147 
 
 A Kirghis Cemetery 151 
 
 An Oasis in the Kirghis Steppe 154 
 
 Washing Clothes in the Irtish 156 
 
 A Street in Semipalatinsk 159 
 
 A Camel Team Crossing the Ford 161 
 
 A Kirghis Horseman in Gala Dress 163 
 
 A Wrestling Match 165 
 
 Cossack Peasant Girl Spinning 190 
 
 Upper Irtish Valley and Foot-Hills of the Altai 192 
 
 The Altai Station 194 
 
 Our House at the Altai Station 196 
 
 Picnic Ground, Valley of the Bukhtarma 203 
 
 Cossack Picket of Jingistai 205 
 
 The Village of Arul 207 
 
 Ascent of the Mountain from Berel 210 
 
 Kirghis Encampment on the Summit 212 
 
 Rakmanofski Lake 214 
 
 The Rakmanofski Hot Springs 216 
 
 Descent into the Valley of the White Berel 218 
 
 Distant View op the Katunski Alps 219 
 
 The " Katunski Pillars "— Source op the Katt5^n River 221 
 
 The Descent into the Gorge op the Katun 223 
 
 The Katun River 224 
 
 Lower Part of Katun Glacier (Upper Part in Clouds) — Katun 
 
 Waterfall 225 
 
 Coming up the Alexandr6fskaya-S]6ivernaya Ravine 231 
 
 The Ulbinsk Ravine 233
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS XV 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 The Valley of Ulbinsk 235 
 
 The Town of Ust Kajienogorsk 238 
 
 A Post-Station on the Barnaul Road 280 
 
 Mabket-Place in Barnaul 282 
 
 Old Prison or Guard-House in Barnaul 284 
 
 Peasant Women at Work in Barnaul 287 
 
 Kolivan Lake 289 
 
 Grotesque Rocks near Kolivan Lake 292 
 
 Ferry on the River Ob near Barnaul 295 
 
 A Part of the Market Square in Tomsk 300 
 
 A " FAiiiLY Kajviera " in the Tomsk Forwarding Prison 313 
 
 Prince Kropotkin 324 
 
 An Old Siberian Ferry-Boat 355 
 
 Bark-Mills, Krasnoyarsk 358 
 
 Monastery near Krasnoyarsk 360 
 
 Road to Monastery 361 
 
 A Siberian Blacksmith 363 
 
 The Departure of the Mail 365 
 
 Sick and Infirm Exiles in Telegas 375 
 
 A Convict Party Passing a Shrine near Tomsk 377 
 
 Halt of a Convict Party for Lunch 379 
 
 " Brodyags " OR Runaway Convicts 381 
 
 A Polu-Etape on the Tomsk- Achinsk Road 383 
 
 A '' Kamera ■' OR Cell est a Polu-Etape 385 
 
 An Etape 387 
 
 A Party of Exiles Crossing the Yenisei 398 
 
 An Old Convict Begging Food 403 
 
 A Break for Liberty 408 
 
 MAPS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Map op Siberia 4 
 
 Enlarged Map of Route from Tiumen to Semipalatinsk 121 
 
 Map of Route from Semipalatixsk to the Altai 189 
 
 Route from the Altai Station to Tomsk 228
 
 SIBERIA A:N^D the EXILE SYSTEM 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 FKOM ST. PETEKSBURG TO PERM 
 
 THE Siberian expedition of The Century Magazine 
 sailed from New York for Liverpool on the second day 
 of May, 1885. It consisted of Mr. George A. Frost, an ar- 
 tist of Boston, and the author of this book. We both spoke 
 Russian, both had been in Siberia before, and I was making 
 to the empire my fourth journey. Previous association in 
 the service of the Russian- American Telegraph Company 
 had acquainted us with each other, and long experience in 
 sub-arctic Asia had familiarized us with the hardships and 
 privations of Siberian travel. Our plan of operations had 
 been approved by The Century ; we had the amplest dis- 
 cretionary power in the matter of ways and means; and 
 although fully aware of the serious nature of the work in 
 hand, we were hopeful, if not sanguine, of success. We ar- 
 rived in London on Sunday, May 10, and on Wednesday, 
 the 13th, proceeded to St. Petersburg by rail, via Dover, Os- 
 tend, Cologne, Hanover, Berlin, and Eydkuhnen. As the 
 season was already advanced, and as it was important that 
 we should reach Siberia in time to make the most of the 
 summer weather and the good roads, I decided to remain 
 in the Russian capital only five days ; but we were unfor- 
 tunate enough to arrive there just at the beginning of a 
 1
 
 2 SIBERIA 
 
 long series of chuivli holidays, and were able to utilize in 
 the transaction of business only four days out of ten. 
 
 As soon as I could obtain an interview with Mr. Vlan- 
 galli, the assistant Minister of Foreign Affairs, I presented 
 my letters of introduction and told him frankly and can- 
 didly what we desired to do. I said that in my judgment 
 Siberia and the exile system had been greatly misrepre- 
 sented by prejudiced writers ;. that a truthful description of 
 the country, the prisons and the mines would, I thought, be 
 advantageous rather than detrimental to the interests of 
 the Eussian Grovernment ; and that, inasmuch as I had al- 
 ready committed myself publicly to a defense of that Gov- 
 ernment, I could hardly be suspected of an intention to 
 seek in Siberia for facts with which to undermine my own 
 position. This statement, in which there was not the least 
 diplomacy or insincerity, seemed to impress Mr. Vlangalli 
 favorably ; and after twenty minutes' conversation he in- 
 formed me that we should undoubtedly be permitted to go 
 to Siberia, and that he would aid us as far as possible by 
 giving us an open letter to the governors of the Siberian 
 provinces, and by procuring for us a similar letter from the 
 Minister of the Interior. Upon being asked whether these 
 letters would admit us to Siberian prisons, Mr. Vlangalli 
 replied that they would not; that permission to inspect 
 prisons must in all cases be obtained from provincial gov- 
 ernors. As to the further question whether such permis- 
 sion would probably be granted, he declined to express an 
 opinion. This, of course, was equivalent to saying that the 
 Government would not give us carte-hlanche, but would 
 follow us with friendly observation, and grant or refuse per- 
 mission to visit prisons as might, from time to time, seem 
 expedient. I foresaw that this would greatly increase our 
 difficulties, but I did not deem it prudent to urge any fur- 
 ther concession ; and after expressing my thanks for the 
 courtesy and kindness with which we had been received I 
 withdrew.
 
 FKOM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 3 
 
 At another interview, a few days later, Mr. Ylangalli gave 
 me the promised letters and, at the same time, said that he 
 would like to hav^e me stop in Moscow on my way to Siberia 
 and make the acquaintance of Mr. Katkoff, the well-known 
 editor of the Moscow Gazette. He handed me a sealed 
 note of introduction to Baron Biihler, keeper of the im- 
 perial archives in Moscow, and said that he had requested 
 the latter to present me to Mr. Katkoff, and that he hoped 
 I would not leave Moscow without seeing him. I was not 
 unfamiliar with the character and the career of the great 
 Russian champion of autocracy, and was glad, of course, to 
 have an opjDortunity of meeting him ; but I more than sus- 
 pected that the underlying motive of Mr. Vlangalli's request 
 was a desire to bring me into contact with a man of strong 
 personality and great ability, who would impress me with 
 his own views of Russian policy, confirm my favorable 
 opinion of the Russian Government, and guard me from 
 the danger of being led astray by the specious misrepre- 
 sentations of exiled nihilists, whom I might possibly meet 
 in the course of my Siberian journey. This precaution — 
 if precaution it was — seemed to me wholly unnecessary, 
 since my opinion of the nihilists was already as unfavor- 
 able as the Government itself could desire. I assured Mr. 
 Vlangalli, however, that I would see Mr. Katkoff if possible ; 
 and after thanking him again for his assistance I bade him 
 good-by. 
 
 In reviewing now the representations that I made to high 
 Russian officials before leaving St. Petersburg I have not 
 to reproach myself with a single act of duplicity or insin- 
 cerity. I did not obtain permission to go to Siberia by 
 means of false pretenses, nor did I at any time assume a 
 deceptive attitude for the sake of furthering my plans. If 
 the opinions that I now hold differ from those that I ex- 
 pressed to Mr. Vlangalli in 1885, it is not because I was 
 then insincere, but because my views have since been 
 changed by an overwhelming mass of evidence.
 
 SIBERIA
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 5 
 
 On the afternoon of May 31, having selected and pur- 
 chased photographic apparatus, obtained all necessary 
 books and maps, and provided ourselves with about fifty 
 letters of introduction to teachers, mining engineers, and 
 Government officials in all parts of Siberia, we left St. 
 Petersburg by rail for Moscow. The distance from the 
 Russian capital to the Siberian frontier is about 1600 miles ; 
 and the route usually taken by travelers, and always by 
 exiles, is that which passes through the cities of Moscow, 
 Nizhni Novgorod, Kazan, Perm, and Ekaterinburg. The 
 eastern terminus of the Russian railway system is at Nizhni 
 Novgorod, but, in summer, steamers ply constantly between 
 that city and Perm on the rivers Volga and Kama ; and 
 Perm is connected with Ekaterinburg by an isolated piece 
 of railroad about 180 miles in length, which crosses the 
 mountain chain of the Ural, and is intended to unite the 
 navigable waters of the Volga witli those of the Ob.' 
 
 Upon our arrival in Moscow I presented my sealed note 
 of introduction to Baron Buhler, and called with him at the 
 office of the Moscow Gazette for the purpose of making 
 the acquaintance of its editor. We were disappointed, how- 
 ever, to find that Mr. Katkoff had just left the city and 
 probably would be absent for two or three weeks. As we 
 could not await his return, and as there was no other busi- 
 ness to detain us in Moscow, we proceeded by rail to Nizhni 
 Novgorod, reaching that city early on the morning of Thurs- 
 day, June 4. 
 
 To a traveler visiting Nizhni Novgorod for the first time 
 there is something surprising, and almost startling, in the 
 appearance of what he supposes to be the city, and in the 
 scene presented to him as he emerges from the railway 
 station and walks away from the low bank of the Oka 
 River in the direction of the Volga. The clean, well-paved 
 
 1 During our stay in Siberia this rail- by rail or steamer, with points in Si- 
 road was extended to Tinmen, on one beria as remote as Semipalatinsk and 
 of the tributaries of the Ob, so that St. Tomsk, the former 2600 and the latter 
 Petersburg is now in communication, 2700 miles away.
 
 b SIBERIA 
 
 streets; the long rows of substantial Imildiiigs ; the spa- 
 cious boulevard, shaded by leafy birches and poplars ; the 
 canal, spanned at intervals by graceful bridges ; the pic- 
 turesque tower of the water- works; the enormous cathedral 
 of Alexander Nevski; the Bourse; the theaters; the ho- 
 tels ; the market places — all seem to indicate a great j^opu- 
 lous center of life and commercial activity ; but of living 
 inhabitants there is not a sign. Grass and weeds are grow- 
 ing in the middle of the empty streets and in the chinks of 
 the travel-worn sidewalks ; birds are singing fearlessly in 
 the trees that shade the lonely and deserted boulevard ; the 
 countless shops and warehouses are all closed, barred, and 
 padlocked ; the bells are silent in the gilded belfries of the 
 churches ; and the astonished stranger may perhaps wander 
 for a mile between solid blocks of buildings without seeing 
 an open door, a vehicle, or a single human being. The city 
 appears to have been stricken by a pestilence and deserted. 
 If the new-comer remembers for what Nizhni Novgorod is 
 celebrated, he is not long, of course, in coming to the con- 
 clusion that he is on the site of the famous fair ; but the 
 first realization of the fact that the fair is in itself a sepa- 
 rate and indei3endent city, and a city that during nine months 
 of every year stands empty and deserted, comes to him with 
 the shock of a great surprise. 
 
 The fair-city of Nizhni Novgorod is situated on a low 
 peninsula between the rivers Oka and Volga, just above 
 their junction, very much as New York City is situated on 
 Manhattan Island between East River and the Hudson. 
 In geographical position it bears the same relation to the 
 old town of Nizhni Novgorod that New York would bear to 
 Jersey City if the latter were elevated on a steep, terraced 
 bluff four hundred feet above the level of the Hudson. The 
 Russian fair-city, however, differs from New York City in 
 that it is a mere temporary market — a huge commercial 
 caravansardi where 500,000 traders assemble every year to 
 buy and to sell commodities. In September it has fre-
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 
 
 THK FAIR-CITV OF MZHNI NOVGOROD. 
 
 quently a population of more than 100,000 souls, and con- 
 tains merchandise valued at $75,000,000 ; while in January, 
 February, or March all of its inhabitants might be fed and 
 sheltered in the smallest of its hotels, and all of its goods 
 might be put into a single one of its innumerable shops. 
 Its life, therefore, is a sort of intermittent commercial fever, 
 in which an annual paroxysm of intense and unnatural ac- 
 tivity is followed by a long interval of torpor and stagna- 
 tion. 
 
 It seems almost incredible at first that a city of such mag- 
 nitude — a city that contains churches, mosques, theaters, 
 markets, banks, hotels, a merchants' exchange, and nearly 
 seven thousand shops and inhabitable buildings, should 
 have so ephemeral a hfe, and should be so completely aban- 
 doned every year after it has served the purpose for which 
 it was created. When I saw this unique city for the first 
 time, on a clear frosty night in January, 1868, it presented
 
 8 SIBERIA 
 
 an extraordinary picture of loneliness and desolation. The 
 moonlight streamed down into its long empty streets where 
 the unbroken snow lay two feet deep upon the sidewalks ; 
 it touched with silver the white walls and swelling domes 
 of the old fair-cathedral, from whose towers there came no 
 clangor of bells ; it sparkled on great snowdrifts heaped up 
 against the doors of the empty houses, and poured a flood 
 of pale light over thousands of snow-covered roofs ; but it 
 did not reveal anywhere a sign of a human being. The 
 city seemed to be not only uninhabited, but wholly aban- 
 doned to the arctic spirits of solitude and frost. When I 
 saw it next, at the height of the annual fair in the autumn 
 of 1870, it was so changed as to be almost unrecognizable. 
 It was then surrounded by a great forest of shipping ; its 
 hot, dusty atmosphere thrilled with the incessant whistling 
 of steamers ; merchandise to the value of 125,000,000 rubles 
 lay on its shores or was packed into its 6000 shops ; every 
 building within its limit was crowded ; 60,000 people were 
 crossing every day the pontoon bridge that connected it 
 with the old town ; a military band was playing airs from 
 Offenbach's operas on the great boulevard in front of the 
 governor's house ; and through all the streets of the reani- 
 mated and reawakened city poured a great tumultuous flood 
 of human life. 
 
 I did not see the fair-city again until June, 1885, when I 
 found it almost as completely deserted as on the occasion 
 of my first visit, but in other ways greatly changed and im- 
 proved. Substantial brick buildings had taken the place of 
 the long rows of inflammable wooden shops and sheds ; the 
 streets in many parts of the city had been neatly paved ; 
 the number of stores and warehouses had largely increased; 
 and the lower end of the peninsula had been improved and 
 dignified by the erection of the great Alexander Nevski cathe- 
 dral, which is shown in the center of the illustration on page 
 7, and which now forms the most prominent and striking 
 architectural feature of the fair.
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 9 
 
 It was supposed that, with the gradual extension of the 
 Eussian railway system, and the facilities afforded by it for 
 the distribution of merchandise throughout the empire in 
 small quantities, the fair of Nizhni Novgorod would lose 
 most of its importance ; but no such result has yet become 
 apparent. During the most active period of railway con- 
 struction in Russia, from 1868 to 1881, the value of the 
 merchandise brought annually to the fair rose steadily from 
 126,000,000 to 246,000,000 rubles," and the number of shops 
 and stores in the fair-city increased from 5738 to 6298. At 
 the present time the volume of business transacted during 
 the two fair-months amounts to something like 225,000,000 
 rubles, and the number of shops and stores in the fair ex- 
 ceeds 7000. 
 
 The station of the Moscow and Nizhni Novgorod railway 
 is situated within the limits of the fair-city, on the left bank 
 of the river Oka, and communication between it and the old 
 town on the other side is maintained in summer by means 
 of a steam ferry, or a long floating bridge consisting of a 
 roadway supported by pontoons. As the bridge, at the time 
 of our arrival, had not been put in position for the season, 
 we crossed the river on a low, flat barge in tow of a small 
 steamer. 
 
 The view that one gets of the old fortified city of Nizhni 
 Novgorod while crossing the Oka from the fair is both strik- 
 ing and picturesque. The long steep bluff upon which it is 
 situated rises abruptly almost from the water's edge to the 
 height of four hundred feet, notched at intervals by deep 
 V-shaped cuts through which run the ascending roads to 
 the upper plateau, and broken here and there by narrow 
 terraces upon which stand white-walled and golden-domed 
 cathedrals and monasteries half buried in groves of trees. 
 In the warm, bright sunshine of a June day the snowy walls 
 of the Byzantine churches scattered along the crest of the 
 bluff; the countless domes of blue, green, silver, and gold 
 
 '^ The value of the Russiau rtible is about lialf a dollar.
 
 10 SIBERIA 
 
 rising out of dark masses of foliage on the terraces; the 
 smooth, grassy slopes which descend here and there almost 
 to the water's edge ; and the river front, lined with steamers 
 and bright with flags — all make up a picture that is hardly 
 surpassed in northern Russia. Fronting the Volga, near 
 what seems to be the eastern end of the ridge, stands the 
 ancient I'renil'uf^^ or stronghold of the city, whose high, 
 crenelated walls descend the steep face of the bluff toward 
 the river in a series of titanic steps, and whose arched gate- 
 ways and massive round towers carry the imagination back 
 to the Middle Ages. Three hundred and fifty years ago this 
 great walled enclosure was regarded as an absolutely im- 
 pregnable fortress, and for more than a century it served as 
 a secure place of refuge for the people of the city when the 
 fierce Tatars of Kazan invaded the territories of the Grand 
 Dukes. With the complete subjugation of the Tatar khan- 
 ate, however, in the sixteenth century, it lost its importance 
 as a defensive fortification, and soon began to fall into de- 
 cay. Its thirteen towers, which were originally almost a 
 hundred feet in height, are now half in ruins ; and its walls, 
 which have a circuit of about a mile and a quarter, would 
 probably have fallen long ago had they not been extraordi- 
 narily thick, massive, and deeply founded. They make upon 
 one an impression of even greater solidity and strength than 
 do the walls of the famous kremUn in Moscow. 
 
 Upon landing from the ferry-boat in the old town of 
 Mzhni Novgorod, we drove to a hotel in the upper part of 
 the city, and after securing rooms and sending our passports 
 to the chief of police, we walked down past the kremlin to 
 
 3 A l-renilin, or, to use the Eussiau buildings, such as churches, palaces, 
 form of the word, a kreml, is mere- treasuries, etc., which are mei'ely pro- 
 ly a walled enclosure with towers at tected by it. It is popularly supposed 
 the corners, situated in a commanding that the only l-n'inlin in Eussia is that 
 position near the center of a city, and of Moscow ; but this is a mistake. Mzh- 
 intended to serve as a stronghold, or nl Novgorod, Kazan, and several other 
 place of refuge, for the inhabitants in towns in the part of Russia that was 
 time of war. It differs from a castle or subject to Tatar invasion, had strong- 
 fortress in that it generally incloses a holds of this kind, 
 larger area, and contains a number of
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 
 
 11 
 
 m 
 
 iJllIJll:iLl. L ,. :r.- 
 
 A PAUT UF Tin: UL1> TOWN nF NI/lINr NuVtioIlOl
 
 12 SIBERIA 
 
 the river front. Under the long bluft' upon which the city 
 and the hreml'm stand, and between the steep escarpment and 
 the river, there is a narrow strip of level ground which is 
 now given up almost wholly to commerce and is known as 
 the " lower bazar." Upon this strip of land are huddled to- 
 gether in picturesque confusion a multitude of buildings of 
 the most heterogeneous character and appearance. Preten- 
 tious modern stores, with gilded signs and plate-glass win- 
 dows, stand in neighborly proximity to wretched hucksters' 
 stalls of rough, unpainted boards ; banks, hotels, and steam- 
 ship offices are sandwiched in among ship-chandlers' shops, 
 old-clothes stalls, and traktirs ;^ fantastic, highly colored 
 churches of the last century appear in the most unexpected 
 places, and give an air of sanctity to the most disreputable 
 neighborhoods ; and the entire region, from the river to the 
 bluff, is crowded with wholesale, retail, and second-hand 
 shops, where one can buy anything and everything — from 
 a paper of pins, a wooden comb, or a string of dried mush- 
 rooms, to a ship's anchor, a church bell, or a steam-engine. 
 In a single shop of the lower bazar I saw exposed for sale 
 a set of parlor chairs, two wicker-work baby-carriages, a 
 rustic garden seat, two cross-cut log saws, half a dozen bat- 
 tered saniovdrs, a child's cradle, a steam-engine, one half of 
 a pair of elk horns, three old boilers, a collection of telescopes, 
 an iron church-cross four feet in height, six or eight watches, 
 a dilapidated carriage-top, feather dusters, opera-glasses, 
 log chains, watch charms, two blacksmith's an\dls, measuring 
 tapes, old boots, stove covers, a Caucasian dagger, turning 
 lathes, sleigh bells, pulleys and blocks from a ship's rigging, 
 fire-engine nozzles, horse collars, an officer's sword, axe 
 helves, carriage cushions, gilt bracelets, iron barrel-hoops, 
 trunks, accordions, three or four soup plates filled with old 
 nails and screws, carving-knives, vises, hinges, revolvers, 
 old harnesses, half a dozen odd lengths of rusty stove-pipe, 
 a tin can of " mixed biscuits " from London, and a six-foot 
 
 1 A traMir is a public tea-house.
 
 FBOM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 13 
 
 bath till). This list of articles, which I made on the spot, 
 did not comprise more than a third part of the dealer's het- 
 erogeneous stock in trade ; but I had not time for a careful 
 and exhaustive enumeration. In a certain way this shop 
 was illustrative and typical of the whole lower bazar, since 
 nothing, perhaps, in that quarter of the city is more striking 
 than the heterogeneity of buildings, peoj)le, and trades. The 
 whole river front is lined with landing-stages and steamers ; 
 it is generally crowded with people from all parts of the em- 
 pire, and it always presents a scene of great commercial ac- 
 tivity. Steamers are departing almost hourly for the lower 
 Volga, the frontier of Siberia, and the far-away Caspian ; 
 huge black barges, which lie here and there at the landing- 
 stages, are being loaded or unloaded by gangs of swarthy 
 Tatar stevedores ; small, unpainted one-horse telegas^ 
 which look like longitudinal halves of barrels mounted on 
 four wheels, are carrying away bags, boxes, and crates from 
 the piles of merchandise on the shore ; and the broad, dusty 
 street is thronged all day with traders, peddlers, peasants, 
 longshoremen, pilgrims, beggars, and tramps. 
 
 Even the children seem to feel the spirit of trade that 
 controls the city ; and as I stood watching the scene on 
 the river front, a ragged boy, not more than eight or nine 
 years of age, whose whole stock in trade consisted of a few 
 strings of dried mushrooms, elbowed his way through the 
 crowd with all the assurance of an experienced peddler, 
 shouting in a thin, childish treble, " Mushrooms ! Fine 
 mushrooms ! Sustain commerce, gentlemen ! Buy my 
 mushrooms and sustain commerce!" 
 
 The diversity of popular types in the lower bazar is not 
 perhaps so great in June as it is in September, during the 
 fair, but the peculiarities of dress are such as to make 
 almost every figure in the throng interesting and note- 
 worthy to a foreign observer. There are swarthy Tatars 
 in round skull caps and long, loose khaldts ; * Russian peas- 
 
 1 A loose, waistless coat resembling a dressing-gown.
 
 14 SIBERIA 
 
 ants in greasy sheepskin coats and huge wicker-work 
 shoes, with then- legs swathed in dirty bandages of coarse 
 linen cloth and cross-gartered with hempen cords ; disrep- 
 utable-looking long-haired, long-bearded monks, who solicit 
 alms for hospitals or churches, receiving contributions on 
 small boards covered with black velvet and transferring the 
 money deposited thereon to big tin boxes hung from their 
 necks and secured with enormous iron padlocks ; strolling 
 dealers in kvas,^ mead, sherbet, and other seductive bright- 
 colored drinks ; brazen-throated peddlers proclaiming aloud 
 the virtues of brass jewelry, salted eucmnbers, strings of 
 dried mushrooms, and cotton handkerchiefs stamped with 
 railroad maps of Russia; and, finally, a surging crowd of 
 wholesale and retail traders from all parts of the Volga 
 River basin. 
 
 The first thing that strikes the traveler on the threshold 
 of southeastern Russia is the greatness of the country — that 
 is, the enormous extent of its material resources, and the 
 intense commercial activity manifested along its principal 
 lines of communication. The average American thinks of 
 southeastern Russia as a rather quiet, semi-pastoral, semi- 
 agricultural country, which produces enough for the main- 
 tenance of its own half-civilized and not very numerous 
 population, but which, in point of commercial activity, 
 cannot bear comparison for a moment with even the most 
 backward of our States. He is not a little astonished, 
 therefore, at Nizhni Novgorod, to find the shipping of the 
 Volga occupying six or eight miles of river front ; to learn 
 that for its regulation there is in the city a shipping court 
 with special jurisdiction; that the pristan, or, as a Western 
 steamboatman would say, the levee, is under control of 
 an officer appointed by the Minister of Ways and Com- 
 munications and aided by a large staff of subordinates; 
 that the number of steamers plying on the Volga and 
 its tributaries is greater than the number on the Missis- 
 
 1 A drink made by fermenting rye flour in water.
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 15 
 
 sippi ; ' that $15,000,000 worth of products come annually 
 down a single tributary of the Volga — namely, the Kama, 
 a stream of which few Americans have ever heard; and, 
 finally, that the waters of the Volga River system float an- 
 nually nearly 5,000,000 tons of merchandise, and furnish 
 employment to 7000 vessels and nearly 200,000 boatmen. 
 It may be that an ordinarily well-educated American ought 
 to know all these things ; but I certainly did not know them, 
 and they came to me with the shock of a complete surprise. 
 
 On the morning of Saturday, June 6, after having visited 
 the fair-city and the kreml'm and made as thorough a study 
 of Nizhni Novgorod as the time at our disposal would per- 
 mit, we embarked on one of the Kamenski Brothers' steam- 
 ers for a voyage of nearly a thousand miles down the Volga 
 and up the Kama to Perm. 
 
 It has been said that Egypt is the creation of the Nile. 
 In a different sense, but with equal truth, it may be said 
 that eastern Russia is the creation of the Volga. The 
 ethnological composition of its population was mainly de- 
 termined by that river; the whole history of the country has 
 been intimately connected with it for more than a thousand 
 years; the character and pursuits of all the east-Russian 
 tribes have been greatly modified by it; and upon it now 
 depend, directly or indirectly, the welfare and prosperity of 
 more than 10,000,000 people. From any point of view, the 
 Volga must be regarded as one of the great rivers of the 
 world. Its length, from the Valdai hills to the Caspian Sea, 
 is nearly 2300 miles; its width below Tsaritsin, in time of 
 high water, exceeds 30 miles, so that a boatman, in crossing 
 it, loses sight entirely of its low banks and is virtually at 
 sea; it washes the borders of nine provinces, or administra- 
 tive divisions of the empire, and on its banks stand 39 cities 
 and more than 1000 villages and settlements. The most 
 important part of the river, commercially, is that lying 
 
 1 In 1880 there were on the upper and the lower Mississippi 681 steamers. 
 The number on the Volga and its tributaries is about 700.
 
 16 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 between Nizliui Novgorod and the mouth of the Kama, 
 where there ply, during the season of navigation, about 450 
 steamers. As far down as the so-called "Samara bend," 
 the river presents almost everywhere a picture of busy life 
 and acti\aty, and is full of steamers, barges, and great hulks, 
 like magnified canal-boats, loaded with goods from eastern 
 Russia, Siberia, and Central Asia. The amount of merchan- 
 
 WATLIC CAiUilER IN A v6lGA KIVER VILLAGE. 
 
 dise produced, even in the strip of country directly tributary 
 to the Volga itself, is enormous. Many of the agricultural 
 villages, such as Liskovo, which the steamer swiftly passes 
 between Nizhni Novgorod and Kazan, and which seem, 
 from a distance, to be insignificant clusters of unpainted 
 wooden houses, load with grain 700 vessels a year. 
 
 The scenery of the upper Volga is much more varied and 
 picturesque than one would expect to find along a river
 
 Jb'liOM ST. PETEESBURG TO PERM 17 
 
 running through a flat and monotonous country. The left 
 bank, it is true, is generally low and uninteresting ; but on 
 the other side the land rises abruptly from the water's edge 
 to a height of 400 or 500 feet, and its boldly projecting prom- 
 ontories, at intervals of two or three miles, break up the 
 majestic river into long, still reaches, like a series of placid 
 lakes opening into one another and reflecting in their tran- 
 quil depths the dense foliage of the virgin forest on one side 
 and the bold outlines of the half-mountainous shore on the 
 other. White-walled churches with silver domes appear 
 here and there on the hills, surrounded by little villages of 
 unpainted wooden houses, with elaborately carved and dec- 
 orated gables; deep valleys, shaggy with hazel bushes, 
 break through the wall of bluffs on the right at intervals, 
 and afford glimpses of a rich farming country in the inte- 
 rior; and now and then, in sheltered nooks half up the 
 mountain-side overlooking the river, appear the cream- 
 white walls and gilded domes of secluded monasteries, ris- 
 ing out of masses of dark-green foliage. Sometimes, for 
 half an hour together, the steamer plows her way steadily 
 down the middle of the stream, and the picturesque right 
 bank glides past like a magnificent panorama with a field 
 of vision ten miles wide ; and then suddenly, to avoid a 
 bar, the vessel sweeps in towards the land, until the wide 
 panorama narrows to a single vivid picture of a quaint 
 Russian hamlet which looks like an artistically contrived 
 scene in a theater. It is so near that you can distinguish 
 the features of the laughing peasant girls who run down 
 into the foreground to wave their handkerchiefs at the pass- 
 ing steamer ; or you can talk in an ordinary tone of voice 
 with the muzhiks in red shirts and black velvet trousers 
 who are lying on the grassy bluff in front of the green- 
 domed village church. But it lasts only a moment. Before 
 you have fairly grasped the details of the strange Russian 
 picture it has vanished, and the steamer glides swiftly into 
 a new reach of the river, where there is not a sign of human 
 2
 
 18 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 liabitation, aud where the cliffs on one side and the forest 
 on the other seem to be parts of a vast primeval wilderness. 
 Fascinated by the picturesque beauty of the majestic Vol- 
 ga and the ever-changing novelty of the scenes successively 
 presented to us as we crossed from side to side, or swept 
 around great bends into new landscapes and new reaches of 
 tranquil water, we could not bear to leave the hurricane 
 deck until long after dark. The fresh, cool air was then 
 
 <^. 
 
 CT 
 
 A v6lga river hamlet. 
 
 filled with the blended fragrance of flowery meadows and 
 damp forest glens ; the river lay like an expanse of shining 
 steel between banks whose impenetrable blackness was in- 
 tensified rather than relieved by a few scattered spangles of 
 light ; and from some point far away in the distance came 
 the faint voice of a timber rafter, or a floating fisherman, 
 singing that song dear to the heart of every Russian boat- 
 man — Vhiis po mdtushke po Volge [Down the Mother Volga]. 
 After drinking a few tumblers of fragrant tea at the little 
 center-table in the steamer's small but cozy cabin, we un-
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 19 
 
 rolled the blankets and pillows with which we had provided 
 ourselves in anticipation of the absence of beds, and bivou- 
 acked, as Russian travelers are accustomed to do, on the 
 long leather-covered couches that occupy most of the floor 
 space in a Russian steamer, and that make the cabin look a 
 little like an English railway carriage with all the partitions 
 removed. 
 
 About five o'clock in the morning I was awakened by the 
 persistent blowing of the steamer's whistle, followed by the 
 stoppage of the machinery, the jar of falling gang-planks, 
 and the confused trampling of a multitude of feet over my 
 head. Presuming that we had arrived at Kazan, I went 
 on deck. The sun was about an hour high and the river lay 
 like a quivering mass of liquid silver between our steamer 
 and the smooth, vividly green slopes of the high western 
 bank. On the eastern side, and close at hand, was a line of 
 the black hulls with yellow roofs and deck-houses that serve 
 along the Volga as landing-stages, and beside them lay half 
 a dozen passenger steamers, blowing their whistles at inter- 
 vals and flying all their holiday flags. Beyond them and 
 just above high-water mark on the barren, sandy shore was 
 a row of heterogeneous wooden shops and lodging-houses, 
 which, but for a lavish display of color in walls and roofs, 
 would have suggested a street of a mining settlement in 
 Idaho or Montana. There were in the immediate foreground 
 no other buildings ; but on a low bluff far away in the dis- 
 tance, across a flat stretch of marshy land, there could be 
 seen a mass of walls, towers, minarets, and shining domes, 
 which recalled to my mind in some obscure way the impres- 
 sion made upon me as a child by a quaint picture of "Vanity 
 Fair" in an illustrated copy of the "Pilgrim's Progress." 
 It was the famous old Tatar city of Kazan. At one time, 
 centuries ago, the bluff upon which the kremlin of Kazan 
 stands was washed by the waters of the Volga ; but it has 
 been left four or five miles inland by the slow shifting of 
 the river's bed to the westward ; and the distant view of the
 
 20 SIBERIA 
 
 city which cue now gets from the shore is ouly just euough 
 to stimulate the imagination and to excite, without gratify- 
 ing, the curiosity. 
 
 The pn'sfini or steamer-hmding of Kazan, however, is 
 quite as remarkable in its way as the city itself. The build- 
 ers of the shops, hotels, and "rooms for arrivers" on the 
 river bank, finding themselves unable, with the scanty ma- 
 terials at their command, to render their architecture strik- 
 ing and admirable in form, resolved to make it at least 
 dazzling and attractive in color ; and the result is a sort of 
 materialized architectural aurora borealis, which astounds 
 if it does not gratify the beholder. While our steamer was 
 lying at the landing I noted a chocolate-brown house with 
 yellow window shutters and a green roof ; a lavender house 
 with a shining tin roof ; a crimson house with an emerald 
 roof; a sky-blue house with a red roof; an orange house 
 with an olive roof ; a house painted a bright metallic green 
 all over ; a house diversified with dark-blue, light-blue, red, 
 gi'een, and chocolate-brown ; and, finally, a most extraordi- 
 nary building which displayed the whole chromatic scale 
 within the compass of three stories and an attic. What per- 
 manent effect, if any, is produced upon the optic nerves 
 of the inhabitants by the habitual contemplation of their 
 brilliantly colored and sharply contrasted dwellings I am 
 unable to say ; but I no longer wonder that prekrdsni, the 
 Russian word for " beautiful," means literally " very red " ; 
 nor that a Russian singer imagines himself to be using a 
 highly complimentary phrase when he describes a pretty- 
 girl as krdsnaya devitsa [a red maiden]. When I think of 
 that steamboat-landing at Kazan I am only surprised that 
 the Russian language has not produced such forms of met- 
 aphorical expression as "a red-and-green maiden," "a purple 
 scarlet-and-blue melody," or "a crimson-yellow-chocolate- 
 brown poem." It would be, so to speak, a red-white-and- 
 blue convenience if one could express admiration in terms 
 of color, and use the whole chromatic scale to give force to 
 a superlative.
 
 FROM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 21 
 
 About seven o'clock passengers began to arrive in carriages 
 and droshkies from the city of Kazan, and before eight 
 o'clock all were on board, the last warning whistle had 
 sounded, the lines had been cast off, and we were again under 
 way. It was Sunday morning, and as the weather was clear 
 and warm we spent nearly the whole day on the hurricane 
 deck, enjoying the sunshine and the exhilarating sense of 
 swift movement, drinking in the odorous air that came to 
 us from the forest-clad hills on the western bank, and mak- 
 ing notes or sketches of strange forms of boats, barges, and 
 rafts which presented themselves from time to time, and 
 which would have been enough to identify the Yolga as a 
 Russian river even had we been unable to see its shores. 
 First came a long, stately " caravan" of eight or ten huge 
 black barges, like dismantled ocean steamers, ascending 
 the river slowly in single file behind a powerful tug ; then 
 followed a curious kedging barge, with high bow and stern 
 and a horse-power windlass amidships, pulling itself slowly 
 up-stream by winding in cables attached to kedge anchors 
 which were carried ahead and dropped in turn by two or 
 three boats' crews; and finally we passed a little Russian 
 hamlet of ready-made houses, with elaborately carved 
 gables, standing on an enormous timber raft 100 feet in 
 width by 500 in length, and intended for sale in the tree- 
 less region along the lower Volga and around the Caspian 
 Sea. The bareheaded, red-shirted, and blue-gowned popu- 
 lation of this floating settlement were gathered in a pictur- 
 esque group around a blazing camp-fire near one end of the 
 raft, drinking tea ; and I could not help fancying that I was 
 looking at a fragment of a peasant \allage which had in 
 some way gotten adrift in a freshet and was miraculously 
 floating down the river with all its surviving inhabitants. 
 Now and then there came to us faintly across the water the 
 musical chiming of bells from the golden-domed churches 
 here and there on the right bank, and every few moments 
 we passed a large six-oared lodka full of men and women in 
 bright-colored costumes, on their way to church service.
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 About eleven o'clock Sunday morning we left the broad, 
 tranquil Volga and tui'ued into the swifter and muddier 
 Kama, a river which rises in the mountains of the Ural on 
 
 ^j Jid' 
 
 A PEASANT WOMAN OF SIMBIRSK. 
 
 the Siberian frontier, and pursues a southwesterly course 
 to its junction with the Volga, fifty or sixty miles below 
 Kazan. In going from one river to the other we noticed a 
 marked change, not only in the appearance of the people,
 
 FKOM ST. PETERSBURG TO PERM 23 
 
 villages, boats, and landing-stages, but in the aspect of the 
 whole country. Everything seemed stranger, more primi- 
 tive, and, in a certain sense, wilder. The banks of the Kama 
 were less thickly inhabited and more generally covered 
 with forests than those of the Volga; the white-walled mon- 
 asteries which had given picturesqueness and human in- 
 terest to so many landscapes between Nizhni Novgorod 
 and Kazan were no longer to be seen ; the barges were of 
 a ruder, more primitive type, with carved railings and spi- 
 rally striped red-and-blue masts surmounted by gilded 
 suns; and the crowds of peasants on the landing-stages were 
 dressed in costumes whose originality of design and crude 
 brightness of color showed that they had been little af- 
 fected by the sobering and conventionalizing influence of 
 Western civilization. The bright colors of the peasant 
 costumes were attributable perhaps, in part, to the fact 
 that, as it was Sunday, the youths and maidens came down 
 to the steamer in holiday attire ; but we certainly had not 
 before seen in any part of Russia young men arrayed in 
 blue, crimson, purple, pink, and violet shirts, nor young 
 women dressed in lemon-yellow gowns, scarlet aprons, 
 short pink over- jackets, and lilac head-kerchiefs. 
 
 Our four days' jom^ney up the river Kama was not 
 marked by any particularly noteworthy incident, but it 
 was, nevertheless, a novel and a deUghtful experience. The 
 weather was as perfect as June weather can anywhere be ; 
 the scenery was always varied and attractive, and some- 
 times beautifully wild and picturesque ; the foliage of the 
 poplars, aspens, and silver-birches that clothed the steep 
 river-banks, and in places overhung the water so as almost 
 to sweep the hurricane deck, had the first exquisite green- 
 ness and freshness of early summer ; and the open glades 
 and meadows, which the steamer frequently skirted at a 
 distance of not more than fifteen or twenty feet, were blue 
 with forget-me-nots or yellow with the large double flowers 
 of the European trollius. At every landing-place peasant
 
 24 SIBERIA 
 
 children offered for sale great bunches of lilies-of -the- valley, 
 and vases of these fragrant flowers, provided by the stew- 
 ard, kept our little diniug-saloon constantly filled with deli- 
 cate perfume. Neither in the weather, nor in the scenery, 
 nor in the vegetation was there anything to suggest an 
 approach to the frontier of Siberia. The climate seemed al- 
 most Califoruian in its clearness and warmth ; flowers blos- 
 somed everywhere in the greatest profusion and luxuriance ; 
 every evening we heard nightingales singing in the forests 
 beside the river ; and after sunset, when the wind was fair, 
 many of the passengers caused samovars to be brought up 
 and tables to be spread on the hurricane deck, and sat drink- 
 ing tea and smoking cigarettes in the odorous night air 
 until the glow of the strange northern twilight faded away 
 over the hills. So comfortable, pleasant, and care-free had 
 been our voyage up the Kama that when, on Wednesday, 
 June 10, it ended at the city of Perm, we bade the little 
 steamer Alexander good-by with a feeling of sincere regret.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 ACEOSS THE SIBEKIAN FRONTIER 
 
 IN the city of Perm, where we spent one night, we had 
 our first skirmish with the Russian police ; and although 
 the incident has intrinsically little importance, it is perhaps 
 worth recital as an illustration of the suspicion with which 
 strangers are regarded on the great exile route to Siberia, 
 and of the unlimited power of the Russian police to arrest 
 and examine with or without adequate cause. Late in the 
 afternoon on the day of our arrival, Mr. Frost and I set out 
 afoot for the summit of a high hill just east of the town, 
 which we thought would afford a good point of view for a 
 sketch. In making our way toward it we happened to pass 
 the city prison; and as this was one of the first Russian 
 prisons we had seen, and was, moreover, on the exile route to 
 Siberia, we naturally looked at it with interest and attention. 
 Shortly after passing it we discovered that the hill was 
 more distant than we had supposed it to be; and as the 
 afternoon was far advanced, we decided to postpone our 
 sketching excursion until the following day. We thereupon 
 retraced our steps, passed the prison the second time, and 
 returned to our hotel. Early the next morning we again 
 set out for the hill ; and as we did not know any better or 
 more direct route to it we took again the street that led 
 past the prison. On this occasion we reached our destina- 
 tion. Mr. Frost made a sketch of the city and its suburbs, 
 and at the expiration of an hour, or an hour and a half, we 
 strolled homeward. On a large, open common near the pri-
 
 26 
 
 SIBEKIA 
 
 son we were met by two (Iroshkies, in which were four 
 officers armed with swords and revolvers, and in full uniform. 
 I noticed that the first couple regarded us with attentive 
 
 scrutiny as they passed ; but I was not as familiar at that 
 time as I am now with the uniforms of the Russian police 
 and gendarmes, and I did not recognize them. The two 
 officers in the second droshky left their vehicle just before
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 27 
 
 reaeliing us, walked away from each other until they were 
 forty or fifty feet apart, and then advanced on converging 
 lines to meet us. Upon looking around I found that the 
 first pair had left their carriages and separated in a similar 
 way Ijehind us, and were converging upon us from that di- 
 rection. Then for the first time it flashed upon my mind 
 that they were police officers, and that we, for some incon- 
 ceivable reason, were objects of suspicion, and were about 
 to be arrested. As they closed in upon us, one of them, a 
 good-looking gendarme officer about thirty years of age, 
 bowed to us stiffly, and said, " Will you permit me to in- 
 quire who you ai*e ! " 
 
 " Certainly," I replied ; " we are American travelers." 
 
 " Where are you from ? " 
 
 " Of course from America." 
 
 " I mean where did you come from last ? " 
 
 " From St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Nizhni Novgorod." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " To Siberia." 
 
 " Ah ! To Siberia ! To what part of Siberia ? " 
 
 " To all parts." 
 
 "Allow me to inquire what you are going to Siberia for ? " 
 
 " We are going there to travel." 
 
 " What is the object of your travels ? " 
 
 " To see the country and the people." 
 
 " But tourists [with a contemptuous intonation] are not in 
 the habit of going to Siberia. You must have some partic- 
 ular object in view. Tell me, if you please, exactly what 
 that object is." 
 
 I explained to him that American travelers — if not tour- 
 ists — are in the habit of going everywhere, and that the 
 objects they usually have in view are the study of people 
 and places, and the acquirement of knowledge. He did 
 not seem, however, to be satisfied with this vague general 
 statement, and plied me with all sorts of questions intended 
 to elicit a confession of our real aims and purposes in going
 
 28 SIBERIA 
 
 to such a country as Siberia. Finally he said with increas- 
 ing seriousness and severity, "Yesterday you deigned to 
 walk past the prison." 
 
 " Yes," I replied. 
 
 " What did you do that for ! " 
 
 "We were going up on the hill to get a view of the 
 town." 
 
 "But you did not go up on the hill — you merely walked 
 past the prison, looked at it attentively as you passed, and 
 then came back." 
 
 I explained that the hour was late and that after passing 
 the prison we decided to postpone our excursion to the top 
 of the hill until morning. 
 
 " Both in going and returning," he continued, " you 
 devoted all your attention to the prison. This morning it 
 was the same thing over again. Now, what were you look- 
 ing at the prison in that way for ? " 
 
 When I understood from these questions how we hap- 
 pened to fall under suspicion, I could not help smiling in 
 the officer's face; but as there was no responsive levity, 
 and as all four officers seemed to regard this looking at a 
 prison as an exceedingly grave offense, I again went into 
 explanations. 
 
 "Where are you staying in the city?" inquired one of 
 the police officers. 
 
 " At the Bourse hotel." 
 
 " How long do you intend to remain here ? " 
 
 " We intended to leave here to-night." 
 
 " For Ekaterinburg ? " 
 
 " For Ekaterinburg." 
 
 " Where did you learn to speak Russian I " inquired the 
 chief of gendarmes, taking up the examination in turn. 
 
 " In Siberia," I replied. 
 
 " You have been there before then 1 " 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Do you speak German 1 "
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 29 
 
 " Very imperfectly — I have studied it." 
 
 " What were you doing in Siberia before ? " 
 
 " Trying to build a telegraph line — but may I be permit- 
 ted to inquire what is the object of all these questions I " 
 
 The gendarme officer, to whom my statements were evi- 
 dently unsatisfactory, made no reply except to ask, rather 
 peremptorily, for my passport. When informed that our 
 passports were at the hotel he said that we must regard our- 
 selves as under arrest until we could satisfactorily establish 
 our identity and explain our business in Perm. We were 
 then separated, Mr. Frost being put into one droshlqj under 
 guard of the gendarme officer, while I took my seat in an- 
 other beside a gray-bearded official whom I took to be the 
 chief of police. The driver of my droshki/ happened to be 
 a highway robber of a hackman who had tried that very 
 morning to make me pay three times the usual rate for five 
 minutes' ride, and when he saw me taken into custody he 
 was unable to conceal his delight. 
 
 " They 're a bad lot, your high nobility," he said to the 
 chief of police as we drove away in the direction of the 
 town ; " only a little while ago they hired my droshhj and 
 then tried to cheat me out of half my fare." 
 
 " How much did they give you ? " asked the police ofl&cer 
 with assumed sympathy. 
 
 The driver hesitated. 
 
 " Fifty /v0/je7v5," I said indignantly, " and it was twice what 
 he ought to have had." 
 
 The driver began to asseverate, by all he held sacred, that 
 he had not received half as much as the service was worth; 
 but before he had spoken a dozen words, the chief of police, 
 who evidently knew exactly how far we had ridden in a 
 droslih) that morning, interrupted him with a stern com- 
 mand " Malclil razboinik ! [Shut your mouth, you brigand.] 
 They gave you three times as much as you were entitled to, 
 and still you complain ! A stick on the bare back is what 
 you need — twenty blows laid on hot!"
 
 30 SIBEKIA 
 
 The astouished driver, not daring to make any reply to 
 the all-powerful chief of police, relieved his feelings by flog- 
 ging his horse, and we were borne in a tornado of dust to 
 the door of the Bourse hotel. 
 
 I invited the officers to my room, gave them cigarettes, 
 offered to get them tea, and treated them in every way as if 
 they were guests ; but this unexpected courtesy seemed to 
 puzzle rather than placate them. They evidently regarded 
 us as political conspirators about to make an attempt to 
 release somebody from the Perm prison, and when I handed 
 my passport to the young gendarme officer with a polite 
 "Izvoltia" [It is at your service], he looked at me as if I 
 were some new species of dangerous wild animal not classi- 
 fied in the books, and consequently of unknown power for 
 evil. Our passports did not seem, for some reason, to be 
 satisfactory ; but the production of the letter of recommen- 
 dation from the Eussian Minister of Foreign Affairs brought 
 the comedy of errors to an abrupt termination. The gen- 
 darme officer's face flushed a little as he read it, and after a 
 whispered consultation with the chief of police he came to me 
 with some embarrassment and said that he hoped we would 
 pardon what was evidently an "unfortunate misunderstand- 
 ing"; that they had taken "us for two important German 
 criminals (!) of whom they were in search, and that in detain- 
 ing us they were only doing what they believed to be their 
 duty. He hoped that they had not treated us discourte- 
 ously, and said that it would gratify them very much if 
 we would shake hands with them as an evidence that we 
 did not harbor any resentment on account of this "la- 
 mentable mistake." We shook hands solemnly with them 
 all, and they bowed themselves out. This little adven- 
 ture, while it interested me as a practical illustration of 
 Russian police methods, made me feel some anxiety with 
 regard to the future. If we were arrested in this way 
 before we had even reached the Siberian frontier, and for 
 merely looking at the outside of a prison, what probably
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 
 
 31 
 
 would happen to us when we should seriously begin our 
 work of investigation ? '■ 
 
 Perm, which is the capital of the province of the same 
 name, is a city of 32,000 inhabitants, situated on the left 
 bank of the river Kama about 125 miles from the boundary 
 line of European Russia. It is the western terminus of the 
 Ural Mountain railway, and through it passes nearly the 
 whole of the enormous volume of Siberian commerce. In 
 outward appearance it does not differ materially from other 
 Russian provincial towns of its class. It is cleaner and 
 apparently more prosperous than Nizhni Novgorod, but 
 it is much less picturesque than the latter both in archi- 
 tecture and in situation. 
 
 1 Almost every foreign traveler who 
 has made a serious attempt to study 
 Russian life and has gone for that pur- 
 pose into the country has been arrested 
 at least once. Lansdell, the English 
 clergyman, was arrested near this same 
 city of Perm in 1882, as a distributor of 
 revolutionary pamphlets [^Athenceum, 
 September 16, 1882]; Mackenzie Wal- 
 lace was arrested "by mistake" on the 
 bank of the Pruth as he returned fi-om 
 Austria in 1872 [Wallace's i?«S67"«, page 
 209] ; and even the great German sci- 
 entist, Baron von Humboldt, did not 
 wholly escape suspicion. The Russian 
 historical review liiisslaya Starind has 
 recently published a letter from a po- 
 lice prefect in the little Siberian town 
 of Ishim, written in 1829, when Hum- 
 boldt was in that part of the empire 
 making scientific reseaches. The letter, 
 which is addressed to the governor- 
 general, is as follows : 
 
 " A few days ago there arrived here 
 a German of shortish stature, insignifi- 
 cant appearance, fussy, and bearing 
 a letter of introduction from your Ex- 
 cellency to me. I accordingly received 
 him politely ; but I must say that I find 
 him suspicious, and even dangerous. 
 I disliked him from the first. He talks 
 too much and despises my hospitality. 
 He pays no attention to the leading 
 
 ofiicials of the town and associates with 
 Poles and other political criminals. I 
 take the liberty of informing your 
 Excellency that his intercourse with 
 political criminals does not escape 
 my vigilance. On one occasion he pro- 
 ceeded with them to a hill overlooking 
 the town. They took a box with them 
 and got out of it a long tube which we 
 all took for a gun. After fastening it to 
 three feet they pointed it down on the 
 town and one after another examined 
 whether it was properly sighted. This 
 was evidently a great danger for the 
 town which is built entirely of wood ; 
 so I sent a detachment of troops with 
 loaded rifles to watch the German on 
 the hill. If the treaeheroiis machina- 
 tions of this man justify my suspicions, 
 we shall be ready to give our lives for 
 the Tsar and Holy Russia. I send this 
 despatch to your Excellency by special 
 messenger." 
 
 A letter more characteristic of the 
 petty Russian police ofl&cer was never 
 penned. The civilized world is to be 
 congratulated that the brilliant career 
 of the great von Humboldt was not cut 
 short by a Cossack bullet or a police 
 saber, while he was taking sights with 
 a theodolite in that little Siberian town 
 of Ishim.
 
 32 SIBERIA 
 
 Ou Thursday, June 11, at half-past nine o'clock in the 
 evening, we left Perm by the Ural Mountain i"ailroad for 
 Ekaterinburg. As we were very tired from two days spent 
 almost wholly in walking about the streets of the former 
 city, we converted two of the extension seats of the railway 
 carriage into a bed, and with the help of our blankets and 
 pillows succeeded in getting a very comfortalilo night's rest. 
 
 When I awoke, about eight o'clock on the following morn- 
 ing, the train was standing at the station of Biser near the 
 summit of the Urals. The sun was shining brightly in an 
 unclouded sky ; the morning air was cool, fresh, and laden 
 with the odor of flowers and the resinous fragrance of 
 mountain pines; a cuckoo was singing in a neighboring 
 grove of birches ; and the glory of early summer was over 
 all the earth. Frost made hasty botanical researches be- 
 side the railroad track and as far away from the train 
 as he dared to venture, and came back with alpine roses, 
 daisies, wild pansies, trollius, and quantities of other flowers 
 to me unknown. 
 
 The scenery of the Ural where the railroad crosses the 
 range resembles in general outline that of West Virginia 
 where the Baltimore and Ohio railroad crosses the Allegha- 
 nies; but it differs somewhat from the latter in coloring, 
 owing to the greater preponderance in the Ural of evergreen 
 trees. All the forenoon, after leaving Biser, the train 
 swept around great curves in a serpentine course among 
 the forest-clad hills, sometimes running for an hour at a 
 time through a dense larch wood, where there was not a 
 sign of human life ; sometimes dashing past placer mining 
 camps, where hundreds of men and women were at work, 
 washing auriferous gravel ; and sometimes coming out 
 into beautiful park-like openings diversified with graceful 
 clumps of silver birch, and carpeted with turf almost as 
 smooth and green as that of an English lawn. Flowers 
 were everywhere abundant. Eoses, dandelions, violets, 
 wild strawberries, and lilies of the valley were in blossom
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 33 
 
 all along the track, and occasionally we crossed an open 
 glade in the heart of the forest where the grass was almost 
 entii'ely hidden by a vivid sheet of yellow trollius. 
 
 We were greatly surprised to find in this wild mining 
 region of the Ural, and on the very remotest frontier of 
 European Russia, a railroad so well built, perfectly equipped, 
 and luxuriously appointed as the road over which we were 
 traveling from Perm to Ekaterinburg. The stations were 
 the very best we had seen in Russia; the road-bed was 
 solid and well ballasted ; the rolling stock would not have 
 suffered in comparison with that of the best lines in the 
 empire; and the whole railroad property seemed to be in 
 the most perfect possible order. Unusual attention had been 
 paid evidently to the ornamentation of the gi'ounds lying 
 adjacent to the stations and the track. Even the verst- 
 posts were set in neatly fitted mosaics three or four feet in 
 diameter of colored Ural stones. The station of Nizhni 
 Tagil, on the Asiatic slope of the mountains, where we 
 stopped half an hour 
 for dinner, would have 
 been in the highest de- 
 gree creditable to the 
 best railroad in the 
 United States. The 
 substantial station 
 building, which was 
 a hundredf eet or more 
 in length, with a cov- 
 ered platform twenty 
 feet wide extending along the whole front, was tastefully 
 painted in shades of brown and had a red sheet-iron roof. 
 It stood in the middle of a large, artistically planned park 
 or garden, whose smooth, velvety greensward was broken 
 by beds of blossoming flowers and shaded by the feathery 
 foliage of graceful white-stemmed birches ; whose winding 
 walks were bordered by neatly trimmed hedges ; and whose 
 3 
 
 A 1;A1LK<>AD \ Eli!<l' i'OST.
 
 34 SIBERIA 
 
 air was filled with the perfume of wild roses and the miir- 
 uiuriii*>: plash of falling water from the slender jet of a 
 sparkling fountain. The dining-room of the station had a 
 floor of polished oak inlaid in geometi'ieal patterns, a high 
 dado of dark carved wood, walls covered with oak-grain 
 paper, and a stucco cornice in relief. Down the center of 
 the room ran a long dining-table, beautifully set with taste- 
 ful china, snowy napkins, high glass epergnes and crystal 
 candelabra, and ornamented with potted plants, little cedar 
 trees in green tubs, bouquets of cut flowers, artistic pyramids 
 of polished wine-bottles, druggists' jars of colored water, 
 and an aquarium full of fish, plants, and artificial rock- 
 work. The chairs around the table were of dark hard 
 wood, elaborately turned and carved; at one end of the 
 room was a costly clock, as large as an American jeweler's 
 "regulator," and at the other end stood a huge bronzed 
 oven, by which the apartment was warmed in winter. The 
 waiters were all in evening di'ess, with low-cut waistcoats, 
 spotless shirt-fronts, and white ties ; and the cooks, who 
 filled the waiters' orders as in an English grill-room, were 
 dressed from head to foot in white linen and wore square 
 white caps. It is not an exaggeration to say that this was one 
 of the neatest, most tastefully furnished, and most attractive 
 public dining-rooms that I ever entered in any part of the 
 world; and as I sat there eating a well-cooked and well-served 
 dinner of four courses, I found it utterly impossible to realize 
 that I was in the unheard-of mining settlement of Nizhni 
 Tagil, on the Asiatic side of the mountains of the Ural. 
 
 Early in the evening of Friday, June 12, we arrived at 
 Ekaterinburg. The traveler who has not studied attentively 
 the geography of this part of the Russian empire is surprised 
 to learn, upon reaching Ekaterinburg, that although he has 
 passed out of Europe into Asia he has not yet entered 
 Siberia. Most readers have the impression that the boun- 
 dary of European Russia on the east is everywhere coter- 
 minous with that of Siberia ; but such is by no means the 
 case. The little stone pillar that marks the Asiatic line
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 35 
 
 stands beside the railway track on the crest of the Ural 
 mountain divide ; while the pillar that marks the Siberian 
 line is situated on the Ekaterinburg-Tiumen post road, mor6 
 than a hundred miles east of the mountains. The effect of 
 this arrangement of boundaries is to throw a part of the 
 European province of Perm into Asia, and thus to separate 
 Siberia from Russia proper. 
 
 Ekaterinburg, which although not the largest is the most 
 cultivated and enterprising town in this part of the empire, 
 is situated on the eastern slope of the Urals in the Asiatic por- 
 tion of the province of Perm, about one hundred and fifty 
 miles from the Siberian frontier. It impresses the traveler 
 at once as a city that makes some pretensions to wealth, taste, 
 and cultivation. The well-built and architecturally effective 
 railway station, with its circumjacent lawn and glowing 
 flower-beds, the polished private carriages and drosMles with 
 coachmen in livery that stand behind it, the well-dressed, pros- 
 perous looking gentlemen that alight from the train and enter 
 the waiting vehicles, and the white globes of electric lights 
 hanging here and there over the broad streets, are all signi- 
 ficant evidences of enterprise, success, and prosperity. And 
 it is not without reason that Ekaterinburg shows signs of 
 wealth. The famous mineral region of which it is the center 
 fields annually about $3,335,000 worth of gold, 5000 pounds 
 of platinum, 6,700,000 pounds of copper, 280,000 tons of pig 
 iron, 140,000 tons of hard coal, 16,000 tons of manganese, 
 and 277,000 tons of salt ; to say nothing of quantities of 
 malachite, jasper, beryl, topaz, agate, emeralds, and other 
 precious or semi-precious stones.^ Of this wealth, which is 
 
 1 The precise quantities of the principal minerals taken from the mines of the 
 Urdl, in the province of Perm, in 1884, are as follows : 
 
 PRODUCTION OF PRODUCTION OF 
 
 Russia as a whole : Province of Perm : Russia as a whole : Province of Perm : 
 
 Lbs. Lbs. Short Tons. Short Tons. 
 
 Gold 78,408 10,944 Iron 559,901 280,082 
 
 Platinum. .4,932 4,932 Coal 4,318,583 139,014 
 
 Copper .. 13,668,732 G.652,988 Manganese 24,323 15,845 
 
 Salt ... 1,179,023 277,048
 
 36 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 produced almost at their doors, the inhabitants of Ekaterin- 
 bm*g have naturally taken their share ; and they have used 
 it to secure for themselves all the luxuries and opportuni- 
 ties for self-culture that are within their reach. They have 
 organized, for example, the "Ural Society of Friends of 
 Natural Science," which holds regular meetings and pub- 
 lishes its proceedings and the papers read by its members; 
 they have established a museum of anatomy in connection 
 with the Nevyansk hospital, and a small Init promising 
 museum of natui'al history under the patronage of the scien- 
 tific society ; they sustain two newspapers f they boast of 
 having occasionally a season of opera ; and they recently 
 carried to a successful conclusion a scientific, agricultural, 
 and industrial exhibition that attracted public attention 
 throughout Russia and brought visitors to Ekaterinburg 
 from almost all parts of the empire. These evidences of 
 culture and enterprise, judged by an American standard, 
 may seem trifling and insignificant; but they are not so 
 
 The number of ::avods or " works " in 
 the province, including blast-furnaces, 
 rolling-mills, and manufactories, ex- 
 ceeds one hundred ; and in the produc- 
 tion of wrought iron, chrome iron, 
 platinum, and copper Perm takes first 
 rank among the provinces of the em- 
 pire. 
 
 2 About the time that we passed 
 through Ekaterinbiirg, the censorship 
 of one of these papers — the " Week " — 
 was transferred to Moscow. This com- 
 pelled the editor to send to Moscow, 
 in advance, a proof of every item or 
 article that he desired to use ; and as 
 the distance from the place of publica- 
 tion to the place of censorial supervi- 
 sion and back was about 1500 miles, the 
 "Week's" news was sometimes three 
 weeks old before it ceased to be dan- 
 gerous. By this time, of course, it had 
 ceased to be interesting. Whether the 
 paper survived this blow or not, I am 
 imable to saj'. The two numbers of it 
 that appeared while we were in that 
 
 part of the empire contained nothing 
 but advertisements. The editor, I pre- 
 sume, was waiting for the expurgated 
 proofs of his local and telegraphic news 
 to get back from Moscow ; and it proba- 
 bly did not occur to him to fill up his 
 reading columns with a few of the titles 
 of the Autocrat of all the Russias, or a 
 chapter or two of genealogies from the 
 Old Testament. 
 
 The other newspaper in Ekaterinburg 
 is called " The Active Correspondent," 
 but how any "correspondent" ventures 
 to be " active " in a country where 
 mental activity is officially regarded as 
 more dangerous to the state than moral 
 depravity, I do not know. I invite the 
 attention of the reader to the list of 
 periodicals that have been punished or 
 suppressed on account of their "per- 
 nicious activity" since the accession 
 to the throne of Alexander III. It in- 
 cludes every newspaper published in 
 Siberia. See Appendix B.
 
 ACllOSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 
 
 37 
 
 common iu Russia as to justify a traveler in passing them 
 without notice. 
 
 In external appearance Ekaterinburg does not differ 
 essentially from the typical Russian town of its class. 
 
 liillil 
 
 There are the same wide, unpaved streets that one sees 
 everywhere in Russia, the same square log houses with 
 ornamented window casings and flatly pyramidal tin roofs, 
 the same high board fences between the scattered dwel-
 
 38 SIBERIA 
 
 liiigs, the same white- walled churches with coloi-ed oi' gilded 
 domes, and the same f/asfiirnoi dvor or city bazar. In the 
 bazars of these Russian provincial towns you may find, if 
 you search diligently, almost evei-ything that the empire 
 produces, and a great many things that it does not produce. 
 In roaming through fjastinnoi dvor of Ekaterinburg a day 
 or two after our arrival, we happened to get into what 
 seemed to be a small grocery. The chief clerk or proprie- 
 tor, a bright-faced, intelligent young peasant, answered 
 good-humoredly all our questions with regard to his busi- 
 ness and stock in trade, allowed us to taste certain Asiatic 
 commodities that were new to us, and gave us as much 
 information as he could concerning a lot of Russian and 
 Chinese nuts that lay in open bags on the counter, and 
 that attracted our attention because many of them were 
 new to us. After we had examined them all, and tested 
 experimentally a few of them, the young groceryman said, 
 "I have in the back part of the shop some very curious 
 nuts that were sold to me a year or two ago as 'African 
 nuts.' Whether they ever came from Africa or not I don't 
 know, — the Lord only does know, — but the people here 
 don't like the taste of them and won't buy them. If you 
 will condescend to wait a moment I will get a few." 
 
 "What do you suppose they are!" inquired Mr. Frost 
 as the young man went after the "African" nuts. 
 
 "Brazil nuts, very likely," I replied, "or possibly cocoa- 
 nuts. I don't believe anybody here would know either of 
 them by sight, and they are the only tropical nuts that I 
 can think of." 
 
 In a moment the young groceryman returned, holding 
 out toward us a handful of the fruit of the plant known 
 to science as Arachis hypogaea. 
 
 " Why, those are peanuts .^" shouted Mr. Frost in a burst 
 of joyful recognition. "Americanski peanuts," he explained 
 enthusiastically to the groceryman, " kushat khorosho " 
 [American peanuts eat well], and he proceeded to illus-
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 39 
 
 trate this luminous statement by crushing the shell of one 
 of them and masticating the contents with an ostentatious, 
 pantomimic show of relish. Suddenly, however, the ex- 
 pression of his face changed, as if the result had not fully 
 justified his anticipations, and spitting out the crushed 
 fragments of the "African" nut he said, "They have n't 
 been roasted." 
 
 "Nada zharit!" [It is necessary to fry] he remarked 
 impressively to the groceryman, "Amerikanski toujours 
 zharit" [American always to fry]. 
 
 "Zharit!" exclaimed the young groceryman, to whom 
 fried nuts were a startling novelty, — " How is it possible 
 to fry them ? " 
 
 I explained to him that Mr. Frost meant to say roast 
 them, and that in America raw peanuts are not regarded as 
 fit to eat. To roast a nut, however, seemed to the grocery- 
 man quite as extraordinary as to fry one, and when he was 
 informed that the peanut is not the fruit of a tree, but of 
 an herbaceous plant, and that it grows underground, his 
 astonishment was boundless. His practical, commercial 
 instincts, however, soon resumed their sway; and when 
 we left his shop he was already preparing to roast a quan- 
 tity of the " wonderful American underground nuts," with 
 a view to sending them out again for trial as samples of a 
 new importation. I trust that his enterprise has been 
 crowned with success, and that the idlers of Ekaterinburg, 
 who obstinately declined to consume African nuts raw, have 
 learned, long ere this, to eat American peanuts roasted, and 
 to like them at least as well as the Russian fruits of idle- 
 ness — the sunflower seed and the melon seed.^ 
 
 The pleasantest experience that we had during our brief 
 stay in Ekaterinburg was a visit that we made to Mr. N. J. 
 Nesterofski, the cultivated and hospitable superintendent 
 
 1 Loungers and idlers in Russian or talking with, one another, while they 
 villages, and in municipal parks, some- shell and eat the seeds of the water- 
 times sit for hours on wooden benches melon and the great Russian sunflower, 
 in the shade, watching the passers-by,
 
 40 SIBEKIA 
 
 of the Berozef gold mines. I had brought a letter of intro- 
 duction to him from one of his friends in St. Petersburg ; 
 but upon reaching Ekaterinburg I discovered that he lived 
 ten or fifteen miles away in what was known as the Berozef 
 mining district. I sent the letter to him, however, at the 
 first opportunity, and on Monday, June 15th, he drove into 
 the city with a carriage and took us out to his house. The 
 route thither lay through a rather wild, lonely region, not 
 noticeably mountainous but densely wooded, with a still, 
 black pond here and there in the midst of the evergreens, 
 and a thin fringe of buttercups or golden trollius on either 
 side of the road to relieve a little the somber gloom of the 
 forest. Mr. Nesterofski's house, which was situated in rather 
 a large mining village of unpainted log cabins, was a com- 
 plete surprise to travelers who had expected to find in that 
 wild part of the Ural little more than the bare necessaries 
 of life. Although built of squared logs, it was high and 
 spacious, with a metallic roof, ornamented window-casings, 
 and a substantial storm house at the head of the front steps. 
 Our host pressed an electric bell button at the door, and in 
 a moment we were admitted by a neatly dressed maid-ser- 
 vant to a spacious hall, where we removed our overcoats 
 and goloshes. We were then shown into the drawing room, 
 a beautiful apartment hung with paper of a dehcate gray 
 tint, lighted by three long windows, filled with the per- 
 fume of fuchsias, geraniums, and splendid cinnamon pinks, 
 and luxuriously furnished with rugs, easy chairs, long mir- 
 rors, and a grand piano. Before I recovered from the state 
 of breathless surprise into which I was thrown by this 
 unexpected display of luxury, I found myself shaking hands 
 with Mrs. Nesterof ski, a pleasant-faced lady thirty or thirty- 
 five years of age, who welcomed us with warm-hearted hos- 
 pitality, insisted that we must be hungry after our long 
 ride, and invited us to come out at once to luncheon. We 
 took seats in the dining-room at a cozy little table, just big 
 enough for four, upon which were vodka, excellent sherry
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 41 
 
 and claret, bread and butter, Edam and cream cheese, sar- 
 dines, fresh lettuce and radishes; and as soon as we had 
 made a beginning by drinking the customary "fifteen 
 drops," and nibbling at the bread, cheese, and radishes, the 
 neat little maid-servant brought to us delicious, hot Pozlidr- 
 ski cutlets with new potatoes. And all this in an unheard- 
 of mining camp in the Asiatic wilderness of the eastern 
 Ural! If I may judge of the expression of my own face 
 from the expression that irradiated the face of my comrade, 
 Mr. Frost, I must have been fairly beaming with surprise, 
 delight, and half-suppressed enthusiasm. 
 
 xlfter luncheon Mr. Nesterofski escorted us through what 
 he called the fahrik, a six-stamp quartz mill, where we 
 were shown the whole process of quartz crushing and wash- 
 ing, the amalgamation of the gold, and the roasting of the 
 amalgam to get rid of the mercury. It was substantially 
 the same process that I had already seen in California and 
 Nevada. Gold is obtained, in the Berozef district, both from 
 quartz mines and from open placers ; and after we had in- 
 spected the quartz-crushing machinery of the fabrik, we 
 were taken, in a sort of Irish jaunting car known as a 
 dalgusJika, to one of the nearest of the placer mines — the 
 Andrej^efski prilsk. It was merely an extensive excavation 
 in the midst of the forest, where 150 men and women were 
 hard at work shoveling earth into small one-horse carts for 
 transportation to the " machine." As fast as the carts were 
 loaded they were driven up an inclined plane to the top of 
 a huge iron cauldron, or churn, into which their contents 
 were dumped. In this churn revolved horizontally in differ- 
 ent planes half a dozen sharp iron blades, and over the 
 blades fell continually a small stream of water. The aurif- 
 erous earth, agitated incessantly by the revolving blades 
 and drenched by the falling water, was thoroughly broken 
 up and disintegrated, and it finally made its escape, with the 
 water in which it was partially dissolved, through an open- 
 ing at the base of the churn. From its place of exit the
 
 42 SIBERIA 
 
 muddy stream ran down a series of wooden flumes or sluices, 
 in the bottoms of which were pockets and transverse ledges 
 to catch the heavier particles of gold and the black sand 
 with which the gold was mixed. After it had passed through 
 these flumes, the stream was again raised, by means of an Ar- 
 chimedean screw, to a height of twenty or thirty feet, and 
 turned into another series of sluices, where it finally parted 
 with its last and lightest flakes of pi-ecious metal. From 460 
 to 560 tons of earth were churned and washed in this manner 
 every day, with a product ranging in value from $235 to $285, 
 the average yield of the auriferous earth being about 51 cents 
 a ton. Mr. Nesterofski said that he expected to get three 
 puds, or about 131 pounds (troy) of gold out of the Andre- 
 yefski priisk before the end of the working season. This 
 would represent a value of about $30,000. The average 
 number of men and women employed in the placer was 150. 
 They worked from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m., with from one to two hours' 
 rest at noon, and their wages ranged from 17 cents a day 
 for girls and women to 50 cents a day for men that furnished 
 their own horses and carts. Out of these wages they had to 
 pay $2 a hundredweight for coarse wheaten flour, 5 cents 
 a pound for second quality meat, and about 75 cents a hun- 
 dredweight for oats. Nothing, of course, but the direst 
 necessity will force a woman to toil strenuously in a gold 
 placer eleven hours a day for a dollar and two cents a week ; 
 and yet I saw many women, and a number of young girls, 
 engaged in such work and receiving such wages, in the An- 
 dreyefski j9rmA% The life of men in the Siberian gold 
 placers is a life of terrible hardship, privation, and suffer- 
 ing; but for the women it must be worse than penal 
 servitude. 
 
 We did not leave the priisk until late in the afternoon, 
 when the last sluice had been " cleaned up " for the night, 
 the last flake of gold separated with a magnet from the heavy 
 " iron sand," and a little more than a pound of gold dust 
 locked up in an iron flask as the proceeds of 500 tons of
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 43 
 
 earth churned and washed that day. We then drove back 
 to Mr. Nesterofski's house, where we found dinner waiting 
 for us. It consisted of " fifteen drops " to wash down a pre- 
 liminary zakuska or appetizer of rye bread and pickled 
 fish ; then vegetable soup with little crescent-shaped meat 
 pies; spinach and mashed potatoes served together as a 
 course ; cutlets of brains ; small birds on toast ; delicious 
 charlotte russe ; chocolate cake, and macaroons with sherry, 
 claret, and white Crimean wine ad UUtiim. 
 
 I thought, after the delicious and tastefully served lunch 
 at noon, that Mr. Nesterofski could hardly have any more 
 surprises in store for us, but he was not yet at the end of 
 his resources. After dinner he suggested, in a nonchalant, 
 matter-of-fact sort of way, that we light cigarettes and take 
 our coffee out in the garden. It did not seem to me possible 
 that he could have much of a garden, on the 15th of June, 
 in latitude 57° north, and in the mountains of the Ural ; but 
 I was quite willing, nevertheless, to go into the yard and see 
 how, in that latitude and at that season of the year, he man- 
 aged to have lettuce, radishes, and new potatoes. We went 
 out upon a broad piazza in the rear of the house, and then 
 descended a flight of steps into the prettiest and most taste- 
 fully arranged garden that I had seen in Russia. The wind- 
 ing walks were neatly graveled and bordered with beds 
 of blossoming, verbena-like flowers ; graceful birches, with 
 snowy stems and drooping, feathery foliage, stood here and 
 there in the grass plots, like fountains of foaming water 
 breaking aloft into light-green, down-drifting spray ; wild 
 cherry trees, in full blossom, relieved the darker foliage with 
 their nebulous masses of misty white ; while currant bushes, 
 raspberry bushes, and strawberry vines, in the outlying re- 
 gion away from the house, gave promise of an abundant 
 summer fruitage. At the extreme end of the yard, beyond 
 the vegetable garden, stood a large conservatory filled with 
 plants, flowers, and fruits of various kinds, among which were 
 dwarf palms and cactuses, good-sized oranges and lemons.
 
 44 SIBERIA 
 
 and half-ripe pineapples. Lemons, oranges, and pineapples 
 in the mountains of the Ural on the threshold of Siberia ! 
 Could anything be more out of harmony with the impres- 
 sions received from the elementary geographies of childhood? 
 Mr. Nesterofski apologized for the half-ripe state of the 
 pineapples, as if it was really a very humiliating and dis- 
 creditable thing, and as if travelers from America had every 
 right to expect, in the mountains of Asiatic Russia, navel 
 oranges as big as foot-balls, and dead-ripe pineapples with 
 sweet, spicy juice oozing out of every pore. We assured 
 him, however, that apologies were wholly unnecessary, and 
 that if he had shown us pine cones, instead of pineapples, 
 our brightest anticipations would have been fully realized. 
 
 After inspecting the conservatory, the vegetable garden, 
 and the flower garden, we seated ourselves at a little rustic 
 table under the trees near the croquet lawn, and were there 
 served with fragrant coffee and delicious cream. Although 
 it was half -past eight o'clock in the evening, the sun had not 
 yet set, and it was warm enough to sit out of doors without 
 hat or wrap. We talked, smoked, and sipped coffee for half 
 an hour or more, and then Mrs. Nesterofski proposed a game 
 of croquet. The suggestion was received with acclamation, 
 the wickets were set, and at nine o'clock at night we began 
 knocking the balls around in bright sunshine and with birds 
 singing in all parts of the garden. Mrs. Nesterofski and I 
 played against her husband and Mr. Frost ; and after a hard 
 struggle beat them, hands down, by five wickets. It was a 
 highly entertaining, if not a strictly scientific, game. Mr. Frost 
 at that time spoke Russian very imperfectly, using French 
 or English words when he could not remember their Russian 
 equivalents ; I myself was wholly out of practice ; neither 
 of us knew the Russian croquet rules, and our trilingual 
 attempts to advise or consult our partners, at critical stages 
 of the game, excited so much merriment that we were hardly 
 able to make a strike, to say nothing of a carom. More than 
 once I became so weak from laughter at the kaleidoscopic
 
 ACROSS THE SIBEEIAN FRONTIER 45 
 
 combinations of broken language in Mr. Frost's speech that 
 I had to go away and sit down under a tree to recover my 
 breath. I have no doubt Mr. Frost will say that if the mo- 
 saic of my conversation did not have as many pieces in it 
 as his, it was only because I did not know so many tongues ; 
 and that, in the touching and plaintive words of the Portu- 
 guese grammar, "It is difficult to enjoy well so much 
 several languages." 
 
 By the time we had finished our game and refreshed our- 
 selves with delicately flavored caravan tea it was after ten 
 o'clock, and time to think of getting back to Ekaterin- 
 burg. Our warm-hearted and hospitable host urged us to 
 stay with him for the rest of the night, and return to the 
 city some time the next day ; but as we intended to set out 
 the next day for the Siberian frontier it did not seem best 
 to yield to the temptation. The horses were therefore 
 ordered, and at half -past ten the carriage appeared at the 
 door. We expressed to Mr. and Mrs. Nesterofski, as well 
 as we could in Russian, our grateful appreciation of their 
 cordiality and kindness, thanked them for the great plea- 
 sure they had given us, bade them good-night and good-by, 
 and drove back to Ekaterinburg. The streets of the city, 
 when we entered it, were still filled with the soft glow of 
 the long northern twilight ; but there was not a sign nor 
 a sound of life in them save the slow, measured " ting ! — 
 ting ! — ting ! " of the triangles carried by the night watch- 
 men, and struck, now and then, as a warning to " vagrom " 
 men. I had heard of "belling the cat," but I never saw 
 a practical illustration of it until I came into Ekaterin- 
 burg that night, and found a policeman with a Chimes-of- 
 Normandy attachment prowling up and down our street 
 in search of evil-doers. Of course the wary evil-doer fled 
 from the sound of that watchman's triangle as a schooner 
 in thick weather would flee from the warning boom of a fog 
 bell, while the innocent and the righteous drew near in 
 conscious rectitude and were promptly taken to the lock-up.
 
 46 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 '^ ■^ J?< " 
 
 TAU.\-N'rls AT A i'OST «XAX^U^.
 
 ACKOSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 47 
 
 We should probably have shared the fate, as well as the 
 characteristics, of the latter if we had not found shelter 
 in our room before the nearest policeman could get to us. 
 He evidently regarded us as suspicious characters, and 
 walked back and forth under our window striking his tri- 
 angle impressively, until we put out our light. 
 
 At the time when we made our journey to Siberia, the 
 railroad from Ekaterinburg, the last Russian town, to Tin- 
 men, the first Siberian town, had not been completed. There 
 was in operation, however, between the two cities an ex- 
 cellent horse express service, by means of which travelers 
 were conveyed over the intervening two hundred miles of 
 country in the comparatively short time of forty-eight hours. 
 The route was let by the Government to a horse express com- 
 pany, which sold through tickets, provided the traveler with 
 a vehicle, and carried him to his destination with relays of 
 horses stationed along the road at intervals of about eigh- 
 teen miles. The vehicle furnished for the traveler's use in 
 summer is a large, heavy, four-wheeled carriage called a 
 tdrantds, which consists of a boat-shaped body without 
 seats, a heavy leathern top or hood, and a curtain by which 
 the vehicle can be closed in stormy weather. The body of 
 the tdrantds is mounted upon two or more long stout poles, 
 which unite the forward with the rear axletree, and serve 
 as rude springs to break the jolting caused by a rough road. 
 The traveler usually stows away his baggage in the bottom 
 of this boat-shaped carriage, covers it with straw, rugs, and 
 blankets, and reclines on it with his back supported by one 
 or more large, soft pillows. The driver sits sidewise on the 
 edge of the vehicle in front of the passenger and drives with 
 four reins a team of three horses harnessed abreast. The 
 rate of speed attained on a good road is about eight miles 
 an hour. 
 
 On the evening of June 16, having bought through tickets, 
 selected a tdrantds^ and stowed away our baggage in it as 
 skilfully as possible, we climbed to our uncomfortable seat
 
 48 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 on Mr. Frost's bio- trunk, and gave the signal for a start. 
 Our gray-bearded driver gathered up his four reins of 
 
 A CAIiAVAN IIF rKiaCIlT WAGONS. 
 
 weather-beaten rope, shouted "Nu rodniya!" [Now, then, 
 my relatives !] and with a measured jangle, jangle, jangle, 
 of two large bells lashed to the arch over the shaft-horse's 
 back we rode away through the wide unpaved streets of
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 49 
 
 Ekaterinburg, across a spacious parade-ground in front of 
 the soldiers' barracks, out between two square white pillars 
 surmounted by double-headed eagles, and then into a dark, 
 gloomy forest of pines and firs. 
 
 When we had passed through the gate of Ekaterinburg, 
 we were on the "great Siberian road" — an imperial high- 
 way which extends from the mountains of the Ural to the 
 head- waters of the Amur River, a distance of more than three 
 thousand miles. If we had ever supposed Siberia to be an 
 unproductive arctic waste, we soon should have been made 
 aware of our error by the long lines of loaded wagons which 
 we met coming into Ekaterinburg from the Siberian frontier. 
 These transport wagons, or oho^es, form a characteristic 
 feature of almost every landscape on the great Siberian road 
 from the Ural mountains to Tinmen. They are small four- 
 wheeled, one-horse vehicles, rude and heavy in construction, 
 piled high with Siberian products, and covered with coarse 
 matting securely held in place by large woodien pins. Every 
 horse is fastened by a long halter to the preceding wagon, 
 so that a train of fifty or a hundred ohozes forms one un- 
 broken caravan from a quarter of a mile to half a mile in 
 length. We passed five hundred and thirty-eight of these 
 loaded wagons in less than two hours, and I counted one 
 thousand four hundred and forty-five in the course of our 
 first day's journey. No further evidence was needed of the 
 fact that Siberia is not a land of desolation. Commercial 
 products at the rate of one thousand five hundred tons a 
 day do not come from a barren, arctic waste. 
 
 As it gradually grew dark towards midnight, these cara- 
 vans began to stop for rest and refreshment by the roadside, 
 and every mile or two we came upon a pictui-esque bivouac 
 on the edge of the forest, where a dozen or more obo^ dri- 
 vers, were gathered around a cheerful camp-fire in the midst 
 of their wagons, while their liberated but hoppled horses 
 grazed and jumped awkwardly here and there along the 
 road or among the trees. The gloomy evergreen forest, 
 4
 
 50 SIBERIA 
 
 lighted up from beneath by the flickering blaze and faintly 
 tinged above by the glow of the northern twilight, the red 
 and black Rembrandt outlines of the wagons, and the group 
 of men in long laftdus and scarlet or blue shirts gathered 
 about the camp-fire drinking tea, formed a strange, strik- 
 ing, and peculiarly Eussian picture. 
 
 We traveled without stop throughout the niglit, changing 
 horses at every post station, antl making about eight miles 
 an hour over a fairly good road. The sun did not set until 
 half-past nine and rose again at half-past two, so that it 
 was not at any time very dark. The villages through 
 which we passed were sometimes of great extent, but con- 
 sisted almost invariably of only two lines of log-houses 
 standing with their gables to the road, and separated one 
 from another by inclosed yards without a sign anywhere 
 of vegetation or trees. One of these villages formed a double 
 row five miles in length of separate houses, all fronting on 
 the Tsar's highway. Around every village there was an 
 inclosed area of pasture-land, varying in extent from two 
 hundred to five hundred acres, within which were kept the 
 inhabitants' cattle; and at the point where the inclosing 
 fence crossed the road, on each side of the village, there 
 were a gate and a gate-keeper's hut. These village gate- 
 keepers are almost always old and broken-down men, and 
 in Siberia they are generally criminal exiles. It is their 
 duty to see that none of the village cattle stray out of the 
 inclosure, and to open the gates for passing vehicles at all 
 hours of the day and night. From the village commune 
 they receive for their services a mere pittance of three or 
 four roubles a month, and live in a wretched hovel made 
 of boughs and earth, which throughout the year is warmed, 
 lighted, and filled with smoke by an open fire on the ground. 
 
 On the second day after our departure from Ekaterin- 
 burg, as we were passing through a rather open forest 
 between the villages of Markova and Tugulimskaya, our 
 driver suddenly pulled up his horses, and turning to us
 
 ACROSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 
 
 51 
 
 said, " Vot granitsa " [tLere is the boundary]. We sprang 
 out of the tdrantds and saw, standing by the roadside, a 
 
 UIVODAC OF FREIGHT WAddN lil:i\l.K- 
 
 square pillar ten or twelve feet in height, of stuccoed or 
 plastered brick, bearing on one side the coat-of-arms of the 
 European province of Perm, and on the other that of the
 
 52 SIBERIA 
 
 Asiatic province of Tobolsk. It was the boundary post of 
 Siberia. No other spot between St. Petersburg and the 
 Pacific is more full of painful suggestions, and none has 
 for the traveler a more melancholy interest than the little 
 opening in the forest where stands this grief-consecrated 
 pillar. Here hundreds of thousands of exiled human beings 
 
 — men, women, and children ; princes, nobles, and peasants 
 
 — have l)idden good-by forever to friends, country, and 
 home. Here, standing beside the square white boundary 
 post, they have, for the last time, looked backward with 
 love and grief at their native land, and then, with tear- 
 blurred eyes and heavy hearts, they have marched away 
 into Siberia to meet the unknown hardships and privations 
 of a new life. 
 
 No other boundary post in the world has witnessed so 
 much human suffering, or been passed by such a multitude 
 of heart-broken people. More than 170,000 exiles have trav- 
 eled this road since 1878, and more than half a million since 
 the beginning of the present century. In former years, 
 when exiles were compelled to walk from the places of their 
 arrest to the places of their banishment, they reached the 
 Siberian boundary post only after months of toilsome 
 marching along muddy or dusty roads, over forest-clad 
 mountains, through rain-storms or snow-storms, or in bitter 
 cold. As the boundary post is situated about half-way 
 between the last European and the first Siberian etape^ it 
 has always been customary to allow exile parties to stop 
 here for rest and for a last good-by to home and country. 
 The Russian peasant, even when a criminal, is deeply at- 
 tached to his native land; and heart-rending scenes have 
 been witnessed around the boundary pillar when such a 
 party, overtaken, perhaps, by frost and snow in the early 
 autumn, stopped here for a last farewell. Some gave way 
 to unrestrained grief ; some comforted the weeping ; some 
 knelt and pressed their faces to the loved soil of their native 
 country, and collected a little earth to take with them into
 
 ACEOSS THE SIBERIAN FRONTIER 
 
 53 
 
 Tin-. - ' \ •
 
 54 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 exile ; and a few pressed their lips to the European side of 
 the cold brick pillar, as if kissing good-by forever to all that 
 it symbolized. 
 
 At last the stern order " Stroisa ! " [Form ranks ! ] from 
 the under officer of the convoy put an end to the rest 
 and leave-taking, and at the word "March!" the gray- 
 coated troop of exiles and convicts crossed themselves 
 hastily all together, and, with a confused jingling of chains 
 and leg-fetters, moved slowly away past the boundary post 
 into Siberia. 
 
 Until recently the Siberian boundary post was covered 
 with brief inscriptions, good-bys, and the names of exiles 
 scratched or penciled on the hard cement with which, the 
 pillar was originally overlaid. At the time of our visit, 
 however, most of this hard plaster had apparently been 
 pounded off, and only a few words, names, and initials 
 remained. Many of the inscriptions, although brief, were 
 significant and touching. In one j^lace, in a man's hand, 
 had been written the words " Prashchai Marya ! " [Good- 
 by, Mary ! ] Who the writer was, who Mary was, there 
 is nothing now left to show ; but it may be that to the exile 
 who scratched this last farewell on the boundary pillar 
 " Mary " was all the world, and that in crossing the Sibe- 
 rian line the writer was leaving behind him forever, not only 
 home and country, but love. 
 
 After picking a few flowers from the gi-ass at the base of 
 the boundary pillar, we climbed into our carriage, said 
 "Good-by" to Europe, as hundreds of thousands had said 
 good-by before us, and rode away into Siberia.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 
 
 IN crossing the boundary line between the provinces of 
 Perm and Tobolsk, we entered a part of the Russian 
 empire whose magnitude and importance are almost every- 
 where underestimated. People generally seem to have the 
 impression that Siberia is a sub-arctic colonial province 
 about as large as Alaska ; that it is everywhere cold, 
 barren, and covered during the greater part of the year 
 with snow; and that its sparse population is composed 
 chiefly of exiles and half-wild aborigines, with a few sol- 
 diers and Government officials here and there to guard 
 and superintend the ostrofjs, the prisons, and the mines. 
 Very few Americans, if I may judge from the questions 
 asked me, fully gTasp and appreciate the fact that Siberia 
 is virtually a continent in itself, and presents continental 
 diversities of climate, scenery, and vegetation. We are 
 apt, unconsciously, to assume that because a country is 
 generally mapped upon a small scale it must necessarily oc- 
 cupy only a small part of the surface of the globe ; but the 
 conclusion does not follow from the premises. If a geog- 
 rapher were preparing a general atlas of the world, and 
 should use, in drawing Siberia, the same scale that is used 
 in Stieler's " Hand Atlas " for England, he would have to 
 make the Siberian page of his book nearly twenty feet in 
 width to accommodate his map. If he should use for Si- 
 beria the scale adopted by Colton, in his "Atlas of the
 
 56 SIBERIA 
 
 United States," for New Jersey, he would have to increase 
 the width of his page to fifty-six feet. If he shoidd deline- 
 ate Siberia upon the scale of the British ordnance survey 
 maps of England (the "six-inch maps") he would be com- 
 pelled to provide himself with a sheet of paper 2100 feet 
 wide, and his atlas, if laid out open, would cover the whole 
 lower part of New York City from the Battery to Wall street. 
 These illustrations are sufficient to show that if Siberia were 
 charted upon a scale corresponding with that employed in 
 mapping other countries, its enormous geographical extent 
 would be much more readily apprehended, and would appeal 
 much more strongly to the imagination. 
 
 Siberia extends in its extreme dimensions from latitude 
 40.17 (the southern boundary of Semirechinsk) to latitude 
 77.46 (Cape Cheliuskin), and from longitude 60 east (the 
 Urals) to longitude 190 west (Bering strait). It there- 
 fore has an extreme range of about 37 degrees, or 2500 
 miles, in latitude, and 130 degrees, or 5000 miles, in longi- 
 tude. Even these bare statistics give one an impression 
 of vast geographical extent; but their significance may 
 be emphasized by means of a simple illustration. If it 
 were possible to move entire countries from one part of 
 the globe to another, you could take the whole United 
 States of America from Maine to California and from 
 Lake Superior to the (rulf of Mexico, and set it down 
 in the middle of Siberia, without touching anywhere the 
 boundaries of the latter territory. You could then take 
 Alaska and all the States of Europe, with the single 
 exception of Russia, and fit them into the remaining 
 margin hke the pieces of a dissected map ; and after 
 having thus accommodated all of the United States, in- 
 cluding Alaska, and all of Europe, except Russia, you 
 would still have more than 300,000 square miles of Siberian 
 territory to spare — or, in other words, you would still 
 leave unoccupied in Siberia an area half as large again as
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 57 
 
 the empire of Germany.^ The single province of Tobolsk, 
 which in comparison with the other Siberian provinces 
 ranks only fourth in point of size, exceeds in area all of 
 our northern States from Maine to Iowa taken together. 
 The province of Yeniseisk is larger than all of the' United 
 States east of the Mississippi River and the territory of 
 Yakutsk is thirteen times as large as Great Britain, thirty- 
 four times as large as the State of Pennsylvania, and 
 might be divided into a hundred and eighty-eight such 
 States as Massachusetts ; and yet Yakutsk is only one of 
 eleven Siberian colonies. 
 
 A country of such vast extent must necessarily include 
 all varieties of topography and scenery, and all sorts of 
 climate. -Disregarding for the present local and partial ex- 
 ceptions, taking climate and topography together and begin- 
 ning at the arctic ocean, Siberia may be roughly divided 
 into three broad east-and-west zones, or belts of country. 
 
 ICOMPAEATIVE AREAS. 
 
 Siberia. Square Miles. Europe. Square Miles. 
 
 Tobolsk .570,290 France 204,177 
 
 Tomsk 333,542 Germany 211,196 
 
 Steppe territories 560,324 Great Britain 120,832 
 
 Yeniseisk 992,874 Greece 25,014 
 
 Irkutsk 309,191 Italy 110,620 
 
 Yakutsk 1,517,132 Montenegro 3,630 
 
 Trans-Baikal 240,781 Netherlands 12,648 
 
 Amur region 239,471 Portugal '. 32,528 
 
 Maritime territories 730,024 Roumania 48,307 
 
 ^ , , , „^ Servia 18,750 
 
 Total 5,493,629 g^^^^ ^^^^^^^ 
 
 Am. and Europe. Square Miles. Sweden 170,979 
 
 Norway 123,205 
 
 U. S. and Alaska 3,501 ,404 Switzerland 15,892 
 
 Austria-Hungary 240,942 Eiiropean Turkey 125,289 
 
 Belgium 11 ,373 
 
 Denmark 14,124 Total 5,184,109 
 
 Siberian provinces 5,493,629 
 
 The United States, Alaska, and Europe 5,184,109 
 
 Difference in favor of Siberia 309,520
 
 58 SIBERIA 
 
 They are as follows : 1. The great northern tundra or 
 the treeless region of moss steppes, extending along the 
 whole arctic sea-coast from Novaya Zemlaya to Bering 
 strait. 2. The forest region, which, with occasional breaks, 
 occupies a wide belt through the middle of the country 
 from the Ural mountains to the Okhotsk sea. 3. The fer- 
 tile and arable region which lies along the Central Asiatic 
 and Mongolian frontier, and extends from Ekaterinburg 
 and Orenburg to the coast of the Pacific. The northern 
 and southern boundaries of these great transcontinental 
 belts of country cannot be exactly defined, because they 
 are more or less irregular. In some places, as for example 
 in the valleys of the great rivers, the central forests make 
 deep indentations into the barren region that lies north of 
 them ; while in others the northern steppes break through 
 the central forests and even encroach upon the beautiful 
 and fertile region along the southern frontier. Generally 
 speaking, however, the imaginary zones or belts into which 
 I have for convenience divided Siberia correspond with 
 actual physical features of the country. 
 
 I will now take up these zones of climate and topography 
 separately and sketch hastily the character of each. 1. The 
 great northern tundra. The northern coast of Siberia, be- 
 tween the southern extremity of Novaya Zemlaya and 
 Bering strait, is probably the most barren and inhospitable 
 part of the whole Russian empire. For hundreds of miles 
 back from the arctic ocean the country consists almost en- 
 tirely of great desolate steppes, known to the Russians as 
 tundras^ which in summer are almost impassable wastes of 
 brownish-gray, arctic moss, saturated with water, and in 
 winter trackless deserts of snow, di'ifted and packed by 
 polar gales into long, hard, fluted waves. The Siberian 
 tundra differs in many essential particulars from all other 
 treeless plains. In the first place, it has a foundation of 
 permanently frozen ground. Underlying the great moss 
 tundras that border the Lena river north of Yakutsk there
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 59 
 
 is everywhere a thick stratum of eternal frost, beginning 
 in winter at the surface of the ground, and in summer at a 
 point twenty or thirty inches below the surface, and extend- 
 ing in places to a depth of many hundred feet. What 
 scanty vegetation, therefore, the tundra affords roots itself 
 and finds its nourishment in a thin layer of unfrozen ground 
 — a mere veneering of arable soil — resting upon a sub- 
 stratum of permanent ice. This foundation of ice is im- 
 pervious, of course, to water, and as the snow melts in 
 summer the water completely saturates the soil to as great a 
 depth as it can penetrate, and, with the continuous daylight 
 of June and July, stimulates a dense growth of gi'ay, arctic 
 moss. This moss, in course of time, covers the entire plain 
 with a soft, yielding cushion, in which a pedestrian will sink 
 to the knee without finding any solid footing. Moss has 
 grown out of decaying moss, year after year, and decade 
 after decade, until the whole tundra^ for thousands of square 
 miles, is ope vast, spongy bog. Of other vegetation there 
 is little or none. A clump of dwarf berry-bushes, an oc- 
 casional tuft of coarse, swamp grass, or a patch of storm- 
 and-cold-defying hedrovnik [Pinus cemhra] diversifies per- 
 haps, here and there, the vast, brownish-gray expanse ; but, 
 generally speaking, the eye may sweep the whole circle of 
 the horizon and see nothing but the sky and moss. 
 
 An observer who could look out upon this region in win- 
 ter from the car of a balloon would suppose himself to be 
 looking out upon a great frozen ocean. Far or near, he 
 would see nothing to suggest the idea of land except, per- 
 haps, the white silhouette of a barren mountain range in 
 the distance, or a dark, sinuous line of dwarf berry-bushes 
 and trailing pine, stretching across the snowy waste from 
 horizon to horizon, and marking the course of a frozen 
 arctic river. At all seasons, and under all circumstances, 
 this immense border land of moss tundras is a land of des- 
 olation. In summer, its covering of water-soaked moss 
 struggles into Ufe, only to be lashe^ at intervals by pitiless
 
 60 SIBEKIA 
 
 whips of icy rain until it is a<;ain bui'ied in snow ; and in 
 winter, fierce gales, known to the Knssiaus as pilrgas, sweep 
 across it from the arctic ocean and score its snowy surface 
 into long, hard, polished grooves called zastrwji. Through- 
 out the entire winter, it presents a picture of inexpressible 
 dreariness and desolation. Even at noon, when the sea- 
 like expanse of storm-drifted snow is flushed faintly by 
 the red, gloomy light of the low-hanging sun, it depresses 
 the spirits and chills the imagination with its suggestions 
 of infinite dreariness and solitude ; but at night, when it 
 ceases to be bounded even by the horizon because the hori- 
 zon can no longer be distinguished, when the pale, green 
 streamers of the aurora begin to sweep back and forth 
 over a dark segment of a circle in the north, lighting up 
 the whole white world with transitory flashes of ghostly 
 radiance, and adding mystery to darkness and solitude, 
 then the Siberian tundra not only becomes inexpressibly 
 lonely and desolate, but takes on a strange, half terrible 
 uuearthliness, which awes and yet fascinates the imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 The climate of this great northern tundra is the severest in 
 the Russian empire, if not the severest in the known world. 
 As you go eastward from the Ural mountains through this 
 barren zone, the mean annual temperature gradually de- 
 creases; until, shortly after crossing the river Lena, you 
 reach, in latitude 67.34, on the border of the great tundra, 
 a lonely Yakut settlement called Verkhoyansk, or the up- 
 per settlement of the Yana, a village that is known through- 
 out Siberia, and is beginning to be known throughout the 
 world, as the Asiatic pole of cold. The fact is familiar to 
 most readers that the magnetic pole, and probably the pole 
 of greatest cold, do not coincide with the geographical pole. 
 There are two points in the northern hemisphere, one in 
 the American arctic archipelago and one in northeastern 
 Siberia, where the cold is more severe than in any region 
 lying farther north that has yet been explored. The Sibe-
 
 THE FLOWEKY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 61 
 
 riau pole of cold is at or near Verkhoyansk. A long series 
 of Russian observations made at this settlement shows the 
 following mean temperatures : For the whole year, four 
 degrees above zero Fahr. ; mean temperature for December, 
 46 degrees below ; for January, 55 degrees below ; for Feb- 
 ruary, 54 degrees below ; or an average temperature of 51 
 degrees below zero for the three winter months. In 1869, 
 the thermometer at Verkhoyansk went repeatedly below 
 — 70 degrees, and fell once to — 81 degrees Fahr.^ 
 
 Immediately south of the great northern tundra, and ex- 
 tending, with occasional breaks, from the Ural mountains 
 to the Okhotsk sea, lies the second of the three zones into 
 which I have provisionally divided Siberia — the zone of 
 forests. As you go southward from the arctic ocean and get 
 gradually into a less rigorous climate, trees begin to make 
 their appearance. At first there are only a few stunted and 
 storm-twisted larches struggling for existence on the edge 
 of the tundra; but they gradually grow larger and more 
 abundant, pines and firs make their appearance, then birch, 
 willow, and poplar, until at last you enter a vast primeval 
 forest, through which you may travel in a straight line for 
 weeks together. This zone of forests has an area of hun- 
 dreds of thousands of square miles, and stretches almost 
 entirely across Siberia. Along its northern boundary the 
 climate, although less rigorous than the climate of the tiin- 
 dra, is still severe; but long before you get through to its 
 southern edge, the temperature grows milder, poplars, 
 aspens, elms, and the Tatar maple take the places of firs, 
 
 1 The record is given by the eminent — 87° ; and a previous record of — 82° 
 
 Eussian meteorologist I)r. Woeikof , may be found in the Irkutsk newspaper 
 
 who vouches for the trustworthiness SiUr for September 18, 1883. The 
 
 of the observations, and an account of best of thermometers, however, at tem- 
 
 them may be found in the English sei- perature lower than — 60° are very in- 
 
 entific journal. Nature, for March 10, accurate ; and these obsei-vations are 
 
 1881. Dr. Biiuge, who has recently to be taken with proper allowance for 
 
 returned from an expedition to the instrumental error. But, even with 
 
 coast of the arctic ocean and the such allowance, they show that Verk- 
 
 New Siberian islands, reports a mini- hqyansk is probably the coldest place 
 
 mum temperature at Verkhoyansk of on the globe.
 
 62 SIBERIA 
 
 lavelies, and pines, and you come out at last into the more 
 open, fertile, and arable zone of southern Siberia. This 
 beautiful and picturesque country presents, at least in sum- 
 mer, notliini»- that would even remotely suggest an arctic 
 region. The soil is a rich, black loam, as fertile as the soil of 
 an English garden; flowers grow everywhere in the greatest 
 profusion ; the woods are full of rhododendron, wild cherry, 
 and flowering acacia ; the country is neither all plain nor 
 all forest, but a blending of both ; it is broken just enough 
 by hills and mountains to give picturesqueness to the land- 
 scape ; and during half the year it is fairly saturated with 
 golden sunshine. I do not wish, of course, to convey the 
 idea that in this country it is always summer. Southern 
 Siberia has a winter and a severe one, but not, as a rule, 
 much severer than that of Minnesota, while its summer is 
 warmer and more genial than that of many parts of central 
 Europe. A glance at the map is sufficient to show that a 
 considerable part of Western Siberia lies farther south than 
 Nice, Venice, or Milan ; and that the southern part of the 
 Siberian territory of Semirechinsk is nearer the equator 
 than Naples. In a country that stretches from the latitude 
 of Italy to the latitude of central Greenland, one would nat- 
 urally expect to find, and as a matter of fact one does find, 
 many varieties of climate and scenery. On the Taimir 
 peninsula, east of the gulf of Ob, the permanently frozen 
 ground thaws out in summer to a depth of only a few 
 inches, and supports only a scanty vegetation of berry- 
 bushes and moss ; while in the southern part of Western 
 Siberia water-melons and cantaloupes are a profitable crop ; 
 tobacco is grown upon thousands of plantations ; and the 
 peasants harvest annually more than 50,000,000 bushels of 
 grain. In the fertile and arable zone of southern Siberia 
 there are a dozen towns that have a higher mean tempera- 
 ture for the months of June, July, and August than the city 
 of London. In fact, the summer temperature of this whole 
 belt of country, from the Urals to the Pacific, averages six
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 63 
 
 degi'ees higher than the mean summer temperature of 
 England. Irkutsk is five degrees warmer in summer than 
 Dubhn; Tobolsk is tour degi-ees warmer than London; 
 Semipalatinsk exactly corresponds in temperature with 
 Boston; and Vierni has as hot a summer as Chicago/ 
 To the traveler who crosses the Urals for the first time in 
 June nothing is more surprising than the fervent heat of 
 Siberian sunshine and the extraordinary beauty and pro- 
 fusion of Siberian flowers. Although we had been partly 
 prepared, by our voyage up the Kama, for the experience 
 that awaited us on the other side of the mountains, we were 
 fairly astonished, upon the threshold of Western Siberia, 
 by the scenery, the weather, and the flora. In the fertile, 
 blossoming country presented to us as we rode swiftly east- 
 ward into the province of Tobolsk there was absolutely 
 nothing even remotely to suggest an arctic region. If we 
 had been blindfolded and transported to it suddenly in the 
 middle of a sunny afternoon, we could never have guessed 
 to what part of the world we had been taken. The sky was 
 as clear and blue and the air as soft as the sky and air of 
 California ; the trees were all in full leaf ; birds were sing- 
 ing over the flowery meadows and in the clumps of birches 
 by the roadside ; there were a drowsy hum of bees and a 
 faint fragrance of flowers and verdure in the air ; and the 
 
 1 COMPARATIVE SUMMER TEMPERATURES. 
 
 Siberia. Fahr. America and Europe. Fahr. 
 
 Vi^mi 70.7 Chicago, HI 71.3 
 
 Blagoveshchensk 68.6 Buffalo, N. Y 69.0 
 
 Semipalatinsk 68.2 Milwaukee, Wis 68.6 
 
 Khabarofka 67.3 Boston, Mass. 68.2 
 
 Vladivostok 65.6 Portland, Me 66.6 
 
 Akmolinsk 65.1 Moscow, European Russia 65.0 
 
 Omsk 65.1 St. Petersburg 61.0 
 
 Barnaul 63.7 London, England 60.0 
 
 Krasnoydrsk 63.0 Dublin, Ireland 57.0 
 
 Tobolsk 62.4 
 
 Tomsk 62.2 Mean summer temperature of 12 
 
 Irkutsk 61.5 ' Siberian cities and towns 65.3 
 
 Mean summer temperature in 9 
 American and European cities. .65.2
 
 6J: SIBEKIA 
 
 sunshine was as warm and bright as that of a June after- 
 noon in the most favored part of the temperate zone. 
 
 The eonntry through which we passed between the post 
 stations of Cheremishkaya and Sugatskaya was a rich, open, 
 farming region, resembling somewhat that part of western 
 New York which Hes between Rochester and Buffalo. There 
 were no extensive forests, but the gently rolling plain was 
 diversified here and there by small patches of woodland, or 
 groves of birch and poplar, and was sometimes cultivated 
 as far as the eye could reach. Extensive stretches of grow- 
 ing wheat and rye alternated with wide fields of black 
 plowed land not yet sown, and occasionally we crossed great 
 expanses of prairie, whose velvety greensward was sprin- 
 kled with dandelions, buttercups, and primroses, and dotted 
 in the distance with grazing cattle and sheep. Sometimes, 
 for miles together, the road ran through unfenced but cul- 
 tivated land where men and women in bright-colored dresses 
 were plowing, harrowing, or weeding young grain ; some- 
 times we plunged into a dense cool forest, from the depths 
 of which we could hear the soft notes of shy cuckoos, and 
 then we came out into a great sea of meadow blue with 
 forget-me-nots, where field sparrows and warblers were 
 filling all the air with joyous melody. Flowers met the eye 
 everywhere in great variety and in almost incredible pro- 
 fusion. Never had we seen the earth so carpeted with them, 
 even in Cahfornia. The roadside was bright with wild roses, 
 violets, buttercups, primroses, marsh-marigolds, yellow 
 peas, iris, and Tatar honeysuckles ; the woods were whit- 
 ened here and there by soft clouds of wild-cherry blossoms, 
 and the meadows were literally great floral seas of color. 
 In some places the beautiful rose-like flowers of the golden 
 trollius covered hundreds of acres with an almost unbroken 
 sheet of vivid yellow; while a few miles farther on, the 
 steppe, to the very horizon, was a blue ocemr of forget- 
 me-nots. I do not mean simply that the groun<J was sprinkled 
 with them, nor merely that they grew in great abundance ;
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK G5 
 
 I mean that the grass everywhere was completely hidden by 
 them, so that the plain looked as if a sheet of blue gauze 
 had been thrown over it, or as if it were a gi'eat expanse of 
 tranquil water reflecting a pale-blue sky. More than once 
 these forget-me-not plains, when seen afar, resembled water 
 so closely as to deceive us both. 
 
 Throughout the whole distance from Ekaterinbm'g to Tin- 
 men, wherever the country was open, the road was bordered 
 on each side by a double or triple row of magnificent silver- 
 birches, seventy or eighty feet in height, set so closely to- 
 gether that their branches interlocked both along the road 
 and over it, and completely shut out, with an arched canopy 
 of leaves, the vertical rays of the sun. For miles at a time 
 we rode, between solid banks of flowers, through this beau- 
 tiful white-and-green arcade, whose columns were the snowy 
 stems of birches, and whose roof was a mass of delicate 
 tracery and drooping foliage. The road resembled an avenue 
 through an extensive and well-kept park, rather than a great 
 Siberian thoroughfare, and I could not help feeling as if I 
 might look up at any moment and see an English castle, 
 or a splendid country villa. According to tradition these 
 birches were planted by order of the Empress Catherine II., 
 and the part of the great Siberian road which they shade is 
 known as " Catherine's Alley." Whether the object of the 
 great Tsaritsa was to render less toilsome and oppressive 
 the summer march of the exiles, or whether she hoped, by 
 this means, to encourage emigi'ation to the country in which 
 she took so deep an interest, I do not know ; but the long 
 lines of beautiful birches have for more than a century kept 
 her memory green, and her name has doubtless been blessed 
 by thousands of hot and tired wayfarers whom her trees 
 have protected from the fierce Siberian sunshine. 
 
 Almost the first peculiarity of a West Siberian landscape 
 that strikes a traveler from America is the complete absence 
 of fences and farm-houses. The cultivated land of the peas- 
 ants is regularly laid out into fields, but the fields are not 
 5
 
 66 SIBERIA 
 
 inclosed, and one may ride for two or three hours at a time 
 through a fertile and highly cultivated region without see- 
 ing a single fence, farm-house, or detached building. The 
 absence of fences is due to the Siberian practice of inclosing 
 the cattle in the common pasture which surrounds the vil- 
 lage, instead of fencing the fields that lie outside. The 
 absence of farm-houses is to be explained by the fact that 
 the Siberian peasant does not own the land that he culti- 
 vates, and therefore has no inducement to build upon it. 
 With a very few exceptions, all of the land in Siberia belongs 
 to the Crown. The village communes enjoy the usufruct of 
 it, but they have no legal title, and cannot dispose of it nor 
 reduce any part of it to individual ownership. All that they 
 have power to do is to divide it up among their members by 
 periodical allotments, and to give to each head of a family 
 a sort of tenancy-at-will. Every time there is a new allot- 
 ment, the several tracts of arable land held under the Crown 
 by the commune may change tenants ; so that if an individ- 
 ual should build a house or a barn upon the tract of which 
 he was the temporary occupant, he might, and probably 
 would, be forced sooner or later to abandon it. The result 
 of this system of land tenure and this organization of society 
 is to segregate the whole population in villages, and to leave 
 all of the intervening land unsettled. In the United States, 
 such a farming region as that between the Urals and Tin- 
 men would be dotted with houses, granaries, and barns; 
 and it seemed very strange to ride, as we rode, for more than 
 eighty miles, through a country that was everywhere more 
 or less cultivated, without seeing a single building of any 
 kind outside of the villages. 
 
 Another peculiarity of Western Siberia which strongly 
 impresses an American is the shabbiness and cheerlessness 
 of most of its settlements. In a country so fertile, highly 
 cultivated, and apparently prosperous as this, one naturally 
 expects to see in the villages some signs of enterprise, com- 
 fort, and taste ; but one is almost everywhere disappointed.
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 
 
 67 
 
 A West Siberian village cousists of two rows of unpainted 
 one-story log-houses with A-shaped or pyramidal roofs, 
 standing directly on the street, without front yards or front 
 doors. Between every two houses there is an inclosed side 
 yard, around which stand sheds, granaries, and barns ; and 
 from this side yard or court there is an entrance to the 
 house. The court-yard gate is sometimes ornamented with 
 
 A SIBERIAN PEASANT'S HOUSE, BARN, AND COURT-YARD GATE. 
 
 carved or incised wood- work, as shown in the above illus- 
 tration ; the window-shutters of the houses are almost 
 always elaborately painted, and the projecting edges of the 
 gable roofs are masked with long strips of carved or deco- 
 rated board ; but with these exceptions the dwellings of the 
 peasants are simple log structures of the plainest type, and 
 a large proportion of them are old, weather-beaten, and in 
 bad repair. The wide street has no sidewalks ; it is some- 
 times a sea of liquid mud from the walls of the houses on
 
 08 SIBERIA 
 
 one side to the walls of the houses ou the other ; and there 
 is not a tree, nor a bush, nor a square yard of grass in the 
 settlement. Bristly, slab-sided, razor-backed pigs lie here 
 and there in the mud, or wander up and down the street in 
 search of food, and the whole village makes upon an Ameri- 
 can an impression of shiftlessness, poverty, and squalor. 
 This impression, I am glad to say, is in most cases deceptive. 
 There is in all of these villages more or less individual com- 
 fort and prosperity ; but the Siberian peasant does not seem 
 to take any pride in the external appearance of his premises, 
 and pays little attention to beautifying them or keeping 
 them in order. The condition of the whole village, more- 
 over, indicates a lack of public spirit and enterprise on the 
 part of its inhabitants. As long as an evil or a nuisance is 
 endurable, there seems to be no disposition to abate it, and 
 the result is the general neglect of all public improvements. 
 Much of this seeming indifference is doubtless attributable 
 to the paralyzing influence of a paternal and all-regulating 
 Government. One can hardly expect the villagers to take 
 the initiative, or to manifest public spirit and enterprise, 
 when nothing whatever can be done without permission 
 from the official representatives of the Crown, and when the 
 very first effort to promote the general well-being is likely 
 to be thwarted by some bureaucratic " regulation," or the 
 caprice of some local police officer. All that the peasants 
 can do is to obey orders, await the pleasure of the higher au- 
 thorities, and thank Grod that things are no worse. 
 
 Almost the only indication of taste that one sees in a West 
 Siberian settlement, and the only evidence of a love of the 
 beautiful for its own sake, is furnished by the plants and 
 flowers in the windows of the houses. Although there may 
 not be a tree nor a blade of grass in the whole village, the 
 windows of nine houses out of ten will be filled with splendid 
 blossoming fuchsias, oleanders, cactuses, geraniums, tea- 
 roses, and variegated cinnamon pinks. One rarely finds, 
 even in a florist's greenhouse, more beautiful flowers than
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 69 
 
 may be seen in the windows of many a poor Siberian peas- 
 ant's dwelling. Owing to some peculiarity in the composi- 
 tion of the glass, these windows are almost always vividly 
 iridescent, some of them rivaling in color the Cesnola glass 
 from Cyprus. The contrast between the black, weather- 
 beaten logs of the houses and the brilliant squares of irides- 
 cence that they inclose — between the sea of liquid mud in 
 the verdureless streets and the splendid clusters of conser- 
 vatory flowers in the windows — is sometimes very striking. 
 
 On the walls of many of the log houses in the villages 
 through which we passed were unmistakable e^ddences of 
 the existence, in Western Siberia, of an organized volun- 
 teer fire department. These e\ddences took the form, gen- 
 erally, of rough pictorial representations, in red paint, of 
 the fire-extinguishing apparatus that the houses contained. 
 On the gable end of one cabin, for example, there would be 
 a rudely drawn outline of a fire-bucket ; on another a pic- 
 ture of a ladder ; while on a third would appear a gi-aphic 
 sketch of a huge broad-ax that looked red and blood- 
 thirsty enough to have belonged to Ivan the Terrible. In 
 the event of a fire, every householder was expected to 
 make his appearance promptly, armed and equipped with 
 the implement pictorially represented on the wall of his 
 house. I made a careful inventory of the fire-extinguish- 
 ing apparatus promised by the mural sketches along one 
 village street through which we passed, and found it to 
 consist of seven axes, eleven buckets, three ladders, one 
 sledge-hammer, one barrel mounted on wheels, two pulling- 
 down hooks, and a pair of scissors. Exactly in what way 
 they use scissors in Siberia to put out fires I am unable to 
 explain. I gave the subject a great deal of thought, but 
 arrived only at conjectural conclusions. Mr. Frost was of 
 opinion that the house decorated with the picture of the 
 scissors was the home of the "exchange editor"; but I in- 
 sisted, as a newspaper man, that the "exchange editor" could 
 not be expected to run to fires, even in as benighted a coun-
 
 70 SIBERIA 
 
 try as Siberia, and that, moreover, no Russian editor would 
 dare to look at a fire — niucli less run to one — without 
 written permission from the press-censor, countersigned 
 by the chief of police, and indorsed by the procureur of the 
 Holy Synod and the gldiiil uavhdbilk of the Department 
 of Public Safety. In my judgment, therefore, it was prob- 
 able that the house was the residence of the tailor who 
 cut out and fitted uniforms for the firemen whenever it 
 became necessary for them to act in their official capacity. 
 It would have a very demoralizing tendency, of course, 
 and would unsettle the public mind, if a fire should be ex- 
 tinguished by men who passed buckets in their shirt-sleeves. 
 It was of the utmost importance, therefore, that the firemen 
 should be able to find the house of the duly authorized 
 tailor and get their uniforms made at the earliest possible 
 moment after the sounding of the alarm. I tried to make 
 Mr. Frost see what a terrible state of things would exist if 
 there were no picture of scissors to designate the tailor's 
 house, and the firemen should be unable to find it when a 
 fire had broken out in the next street and they wanted 
 their uniforms cut and fitted instantly. But the graphic 
 picture that I drew of the horrors of such a situation did 
 not seem to touch his callous sensibilities. He had not 
 lived long enough in Russia to really feel and appreciate 
 the importance of getting into a uniform before under- 
 taking to do anything. 
 
 As we approached Tinmen we left behind us the open 
 plains and the beautiful farming country that had so much 
 surprised and delighted us, and entered a low, swampy, 
 and almost impenetrable forest, abounding in flowers, but 
 swarming with mosquitoes. The road, which before had 
 been comparatively smooth and dry, became a quagmire 
 of black, tenacious mud, in which the wheels of our heavy 
 tdrantds sank to the hubs, and through which our progress 
 was so slow that we were four hours in traversing a single 
 stretch of about eighteen miles. Attempts had apparently
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 71 
 
 been made here and there to improve this part of the route 
 by laying down in the soft, marshy soil a corduroy of logs ; 
 but the logs had sunk unequally under the pounding wheels 
 of ten thousand loaded freight wagons, leaving enormous 
 transverse ruts and hollows filled with mud, so that the 
 only result of the "improvement" was to render the road 
 more nearly impassable than before, and to add unendur- 
 able jolting to our other discomforts. At last, weary of 
 lurches, jolts, and concussions, we alighted, and tried walk- 
 ing by the roadside ; but the sunshine was so intensely hot, 
 and the mosquitoes so fierce and bloodthirsty, that in twenty 
 minutes we were glad to climb back into the tdrantds with 
 our hands full of flowers, and our faces scarlet from heat 
 and mosquito bites. Upon comparing our impressions we 
 found that we were unanimously of the opinion that if we 
 had been the original discoverers of this country, we should 
 have named it either Florida or Culexia, since flowers and 
 mosquitoes are its distinctive characteristics and its most 
 abundant products. 
 
 At the gate-keeper's lodge of one of the last villages that 
 we passed before reaching Tiumen, we were greeted with 
 the ringing of a large hand-bell. The sound was strangely 
 suggestive of an auction, but as we stopj)ed in front of the 
 village gate the bell-ringer, a bareheaded man in a long 
 black gowQi, with a mass of flaxen hair hanging over his 
 shoulders and a savings-bank box suspended from his 
 neck, approached the tdrantds and called our attention to a 
 large, brownish picture in a tarnished gilt frame resting on a 
 sort of improvised easel by the roadside. It was evidently 
 an ikon or portrait of some holy saint from a Russian church ; 
 but what was the object of setting it up there, and what 
 relation it bore to us, we could not imagine. Finally the 
 bell-ringer, bowing, crossing himself, and invoking bless- 
 ings on our heads, implored us, Kliristd rddi [for Christ's 
 sake], to contribute to the support of the holy saint's 
 church, which, it appeared, w^as situated sornewhere in the
 
 i 2 SIBERIA 
 
 viciiiity. This combination of an auctioneer's bell, a saint's 
 image, a toll-gate, and a church beggar, greatly amused 
 Mr. Frost, who inquired whether the holy saint owned the 
 road and collected toll. The gate-keeper explained that the 
 saint had nothing to do with the road, but the church was 
 poor, and the "noble gentlemen " who passed that way were 
 accustomed to contribute to its support; and (removing 
 his hat) " most of the noble gentlemen remembered also the 
 poor gate-keeper." Of course the two noble gentlemen, 
 with mosquito-bitten faces, rumpled hair, soiled shirt-col- 
 lars, and nuid-bespattered clothing, sitting with noble dig- 
 nity on a luxurious steamer-trunk in a miry tdrantds, could 
 not resist such an appeal as this to their noble sympathies. 
 We gave the gate-keeper a few copper coins with directions 
 to put half of them into the savings bank of the black- 
 robed deacon, and having thus contributed to the support 
 of two great Russian institutions, the church and the grog- 
 shop, we rode on. 
 
 Late in the afternoon of Thursday, June 18, we came out 
 of the forest into an extensive marshy plain, tinted a pecu- 
 liar greenish-yellow by swamp grass and buttercups, and 
 our driver, pointing ahead with his whip, said, "There is 
 Tinmen." All that we could see of the distant city was a 
 long line of pyramidal board roofs on the horizon, broken 
 here and there by the white stuccoed walls of a Grovernment 
 building, or the green-domed belfries and towers of a Russo- 
 Greek church. As we approached it we passed in succession 
 a square marble column marking the spot where the citizens 
 of Tiumen bade good-by to the Grand Duke Vladimir in 
 1868 ; a squad of soldiers engaged in target practice, step- 
 ping forward and firing volleys by ranks to the accompani- 
 ment of a flourish of bugles ; a series of long, low sheds 
 surrounded by white-tilted emigrant wagons, and finally, 
 in the suburbs, the famous exile forwarding prison. 
 
 There were two or three hotels in the town, but upon the 
 recommendation of our driver we went to the " Rooms for
 
 THE FLOWERY PLAINS OF TOBOLSK 73 
 
 Arrivers," or furnished apartments, of one Kovalski, who 
 occupied a two-story brick house near the bank of the river 
 in the eastern part of the city. About six o'clock in the 
 evening we finally alighted from our muddy tdrantds in 
 Kovalski's court-yard, having made a journey of two hundred 
 and four miles in two days, with eleven changes of horses, 
 and having spent more than forty houi-s without sleep, sit- 
 ting in a cramped and uncomfortable position on Mr. Frost's 
 trunk. My neck and spine were so stiff and lame from in- 
 cessant jolting that I could not have made a bow to the Tsar 
 of all the Russias, and I was so tired that I could hardly 
 climb the stairs leading to the second story of Kovalski's 
 house. As soon as possible after dinner we went to bed, and 
 for twelve hours slept the sleep of exhaustion.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWAKDING PRISON 
 
 ^I^IUMEN, where we virtually began our Siberian journey 
 _L as well as our investigation of the exile system, is a 
 town of 19,000 inhabitants, situated 1700 miles east of St. 
 Petersburg, on the right bank of the river Tura just above 
 the junction of the latter with the Tobol. The chief inter- 
 est that the place had for us lay in the fact that it contains 
 the most important exile forwarding prison in Siberia, and 
 the Frlkd^ o Silnihh, or Chief Bureau of Exile Adminis- 
 tration. Through the Tinmen prison pass all persons con- 
 demned to banishment, colonization, or penal servitude in 
 Siberia, and in the Tinmen prikdz are kept all the records 
 and statistics of the exile system. 
 
 Russian exiles began to go to Siberia very soon after its 
 discovery and conquest— as early probably as the first half 
 of the seventeenth century. The earliest mention of exile in 
 Russian legislation is in a law of the Tsar Alexei Mikhai- 
 lovich in 1648.' Exile, however, at that time, was regarded 
 not as a punishment in itself, but as a means of getting 
 criminals who had already been punished out of the way. 
 The Russian criminal code of that age was almost incredi- 
 bly cruel and barbarous. Men were impaled on sharp 
 stakes, hanged, and beheaded by the hundred for crimes 
 that would not now be regarded as capital in any civilized 
 country in the world; while lesser offenders were flogged 
 with the hnit and bastinado, branded with hot irons, muti- 
 
 1 Poln. Sobr. Zakonof, torn. I. Vlozhenie, gl. XIX, p. 13. [Full Collection of 
 Russian Laws, Vol. I." Penal Code, Ch. XIX, p. 13.]
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 75 
 
 Icited by amputatioii of one or more of their limits, deprived 
 of their tongues, and suspended in the air by hooks passed 
 under two of their ribs until they died a lingering and 
 miserable death.' When criminals had been thus knitted, 
 bastinadoed, branded, or crippled by amputation, Siberian 
 exile was resorted to as a quick and easy method of getting 
 them out of the way ; and in this attempt to rid society of 
 criminals who were both morally and physically useless 
 Siberian exile had its origin. The amelioration, however, 
 of the Russian criminal code, which began in the latter part 
 of the seventeenth century, and the progi^essive develop- 
 ment of Siberia itself gradually brought about a change in 
 the view taken of Siberian exile. Instead of regarding it, 
 as before, as a means of getting rid of disabled criminals, 
 the Government began to look upon it as a means of pop- 
 ulating and developing a new and promising part of its 
 Asiatic territory. Toward the close of the seventeenth 
 century, therefore, we find a number of ukdzes abolishing 
 personal mutilation as a method of punishment, and substi- 
 tuting for it, and in a large number of cases even for the 
 death penalty, the banishment of the criminal to Siberia 
 with all his family." About the same time exile, as a pun- 
 ishment, began to be extended to a large number of crimes 
 that had previously been punished in other ways ; as, for 
 example, desertion from the army, assault with intent to 
 kill, and vagrancy when the vagrant was unfit for military 
 service and no land-owner or village commune would take 
 charge of him. Men were exiled, too, for almost every con- 
 ceivable sort of minor offense, such, for instance, as fortune- 
 telling, prize-fighting, snuff-takingy driving with reins,^ 
 
 1 Izsledovdniya o Protsente Soslannikh Vol. I, Nos. 105, 343, and 441, and Vol. 
 V Sibir; E. N. Amichina; Vedmie. [An II, Nos. 772, 970, 1002, and 1004. 
 Investigation of the Percentages of 3 The snuff-taker was not only ban- 
 Siberian Exiles ; by E. N. Anuchin ; ished to Siberia, but had the septum 
 Introduction.] Memoirs of the Im- between his nostrils torn out. 
 
 perial Russian Geographical Society, ■* This was punished as a Western or 
 
 Statistical Section, St. Petersburg, European innovation. The old Rus- 
 
 1873. sian driver had been accustomed to 
 
 2 Full Collection of Russian Laws, ride his horse or run beside it.
 
 76 SIBERIA 
 
 begging with a pretense of being in distress, and setting 
 fire to property accidentally.' 
 
 In the eighteenth century the great mineral and agricul- 
 tural resources of Siberia began to attract to it the serious 
 and earnest attention of the Russian government. The 
 discovery of the Daurski silver mines, and the rich mines 
 of Nerchinsk in the Siberian territory of the Trans-Baikal, 
 created a sudden demand for labor, which led the govern- 
 ment to promulgate a new series of ukclzes providing for 
 the transportation thither of convicts from the Russian 
 prisons. In 1762 permission was given to all individuals 
 and corporations owning serfs, to hand the latter over to 
 the local authorities for banishment to Siberia whenever 
 they thought they had good reason for so doing.- With 
 the abolition of capital punishment in 1753, all criminals 
 that, under the old law, would have been put to death, were 
 condemned to perpetual exile in Siberia with hard labor. 
 
 In the reign of Catherine II. the demand for laborers in 
 Siberia became more and more imperative, by reason of the 
 discovery of the rich and important mines of Ekaterinburg, 
 and the establishment of large manufactories in Irkiitsk; 
 and the list of crimes and offenses punishable by exile grew 
 larger and larger. Jews were exiled for refusing or neg- 
 lecting to pay their taxes for three successive years ; serfs 
 were exiled for cutting down trees without leave ; non- 
 commissioned officers of the army were exiled for second 
 offenses of various kinds, and bad conduct of almost any 
 sort became a sufficient warrant for deportation to Siberia. 
 
 Up to the close of the eighteenth century, very little atten- 
 tion was paid to the treatment of the exiles en route., and 
 still less to the proper organization and control of the exile 
 system. Kolodniks., as the exiles were then called, were 
 
 1 Full Collection of Russian Laws, the St. Petersburg Juridical Society, 
 
 Vol. VIII, Nos. 5611, 5632, 5441, and March 8, 1887. 
 
 Vol. IX, No. 6406. See also a paper - Full Collection of Russian Laws, 
 
 entitled "Exile in Russia in the Sev- Vol. XIII, Nos. 10,086 and 9643, and 
 
 enteenthCentury,"by Professor Serge- Vol. XV, No. 11,116. 
 yefski, read at the annual meeting of
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 77 
 
 simply driven in troops, like catflle, from one provincial town 
 to another, sometimes begging their way because no pro- 
 vision had been made for their subsistence, and sometimes 
 starving to death on the road. No one knew who they were, 
 whence they had come, what crimes they had committed, or 
 whither they were going. Hardened murderers, who should 
 have been sent to the mines for life, were set at liberty in 
 Siberia as colonists ; while unfortunate peasants who had 
 merely lost their passports, or incurred the resentment of 
 some hot-tempered land-owner, were kept at hard labor in 
 the mines until they perished from privation and cruel 
 treatment. The exile system, in short, was nothing but a 
 chaos of disorder, in which accident and caprice played 
 almost equally important parts.' 
 
 Early in the nineteenth centmy, steps were taken by the 
 Government to remedy some of the evils that had become 
 apparent under this lax system of administration, and to 
 subject the methods of exile to stricter control. In 1811 a 
 suitable force of regular guards was organized to convoy 
 exile parties, and all exiles were furnished with identifying 
 documents, called stateini spiskl, to show who they were and 
 whither they were bound. In 1817 etapes^ or exile station- 
 houses, were erected along the most important routes ; and 
 in 1823, upon the initiative of the great Russian reformer 
 Count Speranski, the present PriMz o Silnikh, or Bureau of 
 Exile Administration, was established in Tobolsk. It has 
 
 1 Count Speranski, for exami^le, re- necessary to refer to one of the many 
 f ers to a ease in which a peasant from arbitrary acts of the notorious Siberian 
 the Russian province of Kostroma was governor Treskin. Taking a spite, for 
 condemned to forced colonization for some reason, against one of the eoun- 
 havinginnocently bought a stolenhorse. cilors of the Kasonaya Palcita, or State 
 Through confusion and error he was Chamber, Treskin banished the latter 
 not set at liberty in Siberia, as he ought from the province of Irkutsk, with in- 
 to have been, but was transported as a structions that he should not be allowed 
 murderer to the Berozef mines, where to live more than ten days in any one 
 he worked twenty-three years under- place. The unfortunate exile spent the 
 ground. See Speranski's explanation remainder of his life in wandering aim- 
 of his projected " Exile Statutes," Vos- lessly about Siberia. Sihir i Edtorga 
 tochnoe Ohozrenie, No. 7, 1887, p. 2. [Siberia and Penal Servitude], S. Max- 
 
 As an illustration of the extent to imof, St. Petersburg, 1871, Vol. Ill, p. 8. 
 which caprice was can-ied, it is onlj^
 
 78 SIBERIA 
 
 since been removed to Tiu!neii. The duties of this bureau 
 are of a two-fold nature. In the first place it sorts and 
 classifies all exiles, upon their arrival in Tinmen, and keeps 
 a full and accurate record of them, and in the second it 
 watches and controls, through six subordinate bureaus, their 
 transportation and distribution throughout Siberia. These 
 subordinate bureaus, which are known as expeditsii o silnikh, 
 are situated in Kazan, Perm, Tobolsk, Tomsk, Krasnojwsk, 
 and Irkutsk. They are aided in their work of supervision 
 and control by three inspectors of exile transportation, each 
 of whom looks after one division of the great exile route. 
 At the time of our journey, Colonel Vinokurof was inspector 
 of exile transportation for Western Siberia with headquar- 
 ters at Tinmen, while Colonel Zagarin occupied a similar po- 
 sition in Eastern Siberia with headquarters at Krasnoyarsk. 
 Since the organization of the FriMz o Silnikh in 1823, a 
 careful and accurate record has been kept of all the exiles 
 that have crossed the Siberian frontier ; and from the books 
 of this great central bureau may now be obtained the full- 
 est statistical information with regard to the working of the 
 exile system. The first questions that naturally rise in one's 
 mind in connection with this subject are, " How many per- 
 sons are banished to Siberia annually, and how many have 
 been sent there in all 1 " From the records of the Frikdz o 
 Silnikh it appears that between the years 1823 and 1887 in- 
 clusive there were sent to Siberia 772,979 exiles, as follows: 
 
 From 1823 to 1832 98,725 Brought forward 593,914 
 
 From 1833 to 1842 86,550 In 1878 17,790 
 
 From 1843 to 1852 69,764 In 1879 18,255 
 
 From 1853 to 1862 101,238 In 1880 17,660 
 
 From 1863 to 1872 146,380 In 1881 17,183 
 
 From 1873 to 1877 91,257 In 1882 16,945 
 
 In 1883 19,314 
 
 Total 593,914 In 1884 17,824 
 
 In 1885 18,843 
 
 In 1886 17,477 
 
 In 1887 17,774 
 
 Totall 772,979 
 
 1 The statistics of exile in this chapter are all from official sources, as are also 
 the facts, unless otherwise stated.
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 79 
 
 Exiles to Siberia may be grouped, according to the nature 
 of their sentences, into four great classes, namely : 
 
 1. Kdtorzhniki or hard-labor convicts. 
 
 2. PoseUiitsi or penal colonists. 
 
 3. Silni or persons simply banished. 
 
 4. Dohrovolni or women and children that go to Siberia 
 voluntarily with their exiled husbands or parents. Persons 
 belonging to the first two classes, who are always supposed 
 to be criminals, are deprived of all civil rights and must re- 
 main in Siberia for life. Persons belonging to the third 
 class, who are not necessarily criminals, retain some of their 
 civil rights and may return to European Russia at the ex- 
 piration of their terms of banishment. Convicts and penal 
 colonists go to their places of destination in five-pound leg- 
 fetters and with half-shaven heads, while simple exiles wear 
 no fetters and arc not personally disfigured. Exiles of the 
 third, class comprise : 
 
 a. Vagrants (persons without passports who refuse to dis- 
 close their identity). 
 
 h. Persons banished by sentence of a court. 
 
 c. Persons banished by the village communes to which 
 they belong. 
 
 d. Persons banished by order of the Minister of the In- 
 terior. 
 
 The relative proportions of these several classes for 1885, 
 the year that I spent in Siberia, may be shown in tabular 
 form as follows : 
 
 Penal Class. Males. Females. Total. 
 
 I. Hard-labor convicts [kd.torzhniki], punished by ? j ^q j^j ^ ggj 
 
 sentence of a court ) 
 
 II. Penal colonists [posel^ntsi], punished by sentence ^ 2 526 133 2 6r)9 
 
 of a court > 
 
 a. Vagrants 1,646 73 1,719 
 
 III. Exiles 
 
 Exiled by judicial sentence 172 10 182 
 
 I": 
 
 ] c. Exiled by village communes 3,.535 216 3,758 
 
 I d. Exiled by executive order 300 68 361 
 
 IV. Voluntaries [dobrovolni], accompanying relatives 2,068 3,468 5,.536 
 
 Totals 11,687 4,079 15,766
 
 80 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 All aiialysis of this classified statement reveals some 
 curious and suggestive facts. It shows in the first place that 
 the largest single class of exiles (5536 out of 15,760) is com- 
 posed of women and children who go to Siberia voluntarily 
 with their husbands and fathers.' It shows, in the second 
 place, that out of the 10,230 persons sent to Siberia as crim- 
 inals, only 4392, or less than a half, have had a trial by a 
 court, w^hile 5838 are exiled by "administrative process" — 
 that is, by a mere order from the Minister of the Interior.'- 
 Finally, it shows that more than one-third of the involun- 
 tary exiles (3751 out of 10,230) were sent to Siberia by vil- 
 lage communes, and not by the Government. 
 
 Every mir, or village commune, in Russia has the right 
 to banish any of its members who, through, bad conduct or 
 general worthlessness, have rendered themselves obnoxious 
 to their fellow-citizens and burdensome to society. It has 
 also the right to refuse to receive any of its members who, 
 after serving out terms of imi3risonment for crime, return 
 to the mir and ask to be re-admitted. Released prisoners 
 
 1 The records of the Bureau of Exile 
 Administration for the four years end- 
 ing with the year of my visit to Siberia 
 show that the numbers and pereent- 
 
 TVhole numher 
 Year. of exiles. 
 
 1882 16,945 
 
 1883 19,314 
 
 1884 17,824 
 
 1885 18,843 
 
 ages of women and children who volun- 
 tarily accompanied their husbands and 
 fathers to Siberia are as follows : 
 
 Women and 
 children. Percentage, 
 
 5,276 31 
 
 6,311 33 
 
 6,067 34 
 
 5,536 28 
 
 Totals 72,926 
 
 •• 2 The proportion of the judicially sen- 
 tenced to the administratively banished 
 varies little from year to year. In the 
 ten-year period from 1867 to 1876 in- 
 clusive, there were sent to Siberia 
 151,585 exiles; 48.80 per cent, went un- 
 der sentences of courts, and 51.20 per 
 cent, were banished by administrative 
 process. In the seven-year period from 
 1880 to 1886 inclusive, there passed 
 through the Tinmen forwarding prison 
 120,065 exiles, of whom 64,513, or 53.7 
 
 23,190 31 
 
 per cent., had been tried and condemned 
 by courts, and 55,552, or 46.3 per cent., 
 had been banished by orders from the 
 Minister of the Interior. A prison re- 
 form commission appointed by Alex- 
 ander II. in the latter part of the last 
 decade reported that on an average 
 45.6 per cent, of all the exiles sent to 
 Siberia went under sentences of courts, 
 and 54.4 per cent, were banished by 
 administrative process.
 
 THE TIUMEN FOEWAEDING PRISON 81 
 
 whom the niir will not thus readmit are exiled to Siberia 
 by administrative process. 
 
 The political offenders that are exiled to Siberia do not 
 constitute a separate penal class or grade, but are distrib- 
 uted among all of the classes above enumerated. I was 
 not able to obtain full and trustworthy statistics with re- 
 gard to them from any source of information open to me. 
 A fragmentary record of them has been kept recently by 
 the inspectors of exile transportation, but this record covers 
 only a few years, and includes only " administratives," or 
 persons banished by executive order for political " untrust- 
 worthiness." All the rest are classed, both in the reports 
 of the inspectors and in the books of the imMz^ as either 
 hard-labor convicts or penal colonists, and in these classes 
 there is no means of distinguishing state criminals from 
 common felons. There can be no doubt, however, that the 
 number of political offenders is much smaller than it is 
 generally supposed to be. From the annual reports of 
 Colonel Vinokiirof, inspector of exile transportation for 
 Western Siberia, it appears that the number of politicals 
 banished by administrative process from 1879 to 1884 is as 
 follows : 
 
 1879 145 
 
 1880 112 
 
 1881 108 
 
 1882 88 
 
 1883 156 
 
 1884 140 
 
 6 years 749 
 
 This is at an average rate of 125 per annum. If twenty- 
 five more per annum be added for politicals sent to Siberia 
 as hard-labor convicts and penal colonists, and not included 
 in the above table, the whole number deported will make a 
 little less than one per cent, of the total number of exiles ; 
 which is probably an approximation to the truth. This 
 6
 
 82 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 estimate, however, does not include Polish insurgents, and 
 it maj^ not liold g'ood for years anterior to 1879. First and 
 last, about 100,000 Poles have been banished, and first and 
 last, a great many thousands of political conspirators. My 
 estimate relates onlv to the vears between 1879 and 1885. 
 
 TUE TIL. MEN FORWARDING PRISON. 
 
 As a general rule, exile to Siberia, under the severer 
 sentences and for felony, involves first, deprivation of all 
 civil rights ; second, forfeiture of all property, which, upon 
 the conviction of the criminal, descends to his heirs as if 
 he were dead ; and third, severance of all family relations, 
 unless the criminal's family voluntarily accompanies him 
 to his place of exile. If a prisoner's wife and children
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 83 
 
 wish to go with him, they are allowed to do so, and are 
 furnished by the Government with transportation; but if 
 not, the authority of the criminal over his family ceases 
 with his exile, and his wife is at liberty to marry again 
 precisely as if he were dead. 
 
 Exiles of all classes are now brought from Kazan to Tin- 
 men either in convict railway trains or in convict barges. 
 The route is precisely the same one that we followed, viz., 
 down the Volga and up the Kama by steamer to Perm, 
 and thence across the mountains of the Ural to Ekaterin- 
 burg and Tinmen by rail. At Tinmen all exiles go into 
 the Tinmen forwarding prison, and lie there, on an 
 average, about two weeks. They are then sent in convict 
 barges down the Irtish and up the Ob to the city of 
 Tomsk. 
 
 After our arrest in Perm for merely looking at the out- 
 side of a prison, we naturally felt some doubt as to the 
 result of an application for leave to inspect the forwarding 
 prison of Tinmen ; but upon presenting my letters of intro- 
 duction to Mr. Boris Krasin, the isiwdvnik or chief police 
 officer of the district, I was received with a cordiality that 
 was as pleasant as it was unexpected. Mr. Krasin invited 
 us to lunch, said that he had already been informed by 
 private and official letters from St. Petersburg of our pro- 
 jected journey through Siberia, and that he would gladly 
 be of service to us in any way possible. He granted with- 
 out hesitation my request to be allowed to visit the for- 
 warding prison, and promised to go thither with us on the 
 following day. We would find the prison, he said, greatly 
 overcrowded and in bad sanitary condition; but, such as 
 it was, we should see it. 
 
 Mr. Krasin was unfortunately taken sick Monday, but, 
 mindful of his promise, he sent us on Tuesday a note of in- 
 troduction to the warden which he said would admit us to 
 the prison ; and about ten o'clock Wednesday morning, ac- 
 companied by Mr. Ignatof, a former member of the prison
 
 84 SIBERIA 
 
 committee, we presented ourselves at the gate. The Tinmen 
 forwarding- prison is a rectanguhir three-story brick building, 
 75 feet in length by 40 or 50 in width, covered with white 
 stucco and roofed with painted tin. It is situated in a large 
 yard formed by a whitewashed brick wall 12 or 15 feet in 
 height, at each corner of which stands a black-and-white 
 zig-zag-barred sentry-box, and along each face of which 
 paces a sentry carrying a loaded Berdan rifle witli fixed 
 bayonet. Against this wall, on the right-hand side of the 
 gate, is a small building used as a prison office, and in front 
 of it stands a post surmounted by a small A-shaped roof 
 under which hangs a bell. A dozen or more girls and old 
 women were sitting on the ground in front of the prison 
 with baskets full of black rye-bread, cold meat, boiled eggs, 
 milk, and fish-pies for sale to the imprisoned exiles. The 
 Tinmen prison was originally built to hold 550 prisoners, 
 but was subsequently enlarged by means of detached bar- 
 racks so that it could accommodate 850. On the day of our 
 visit, as we were informed by a small blackboard hanging 
 beside the office door, it contained 1741. As we approached 
 the entrance we were stopped by an armed sentry, who, 
 upon being informed that we desired admittance, shouted 
 through a square port-hole in the heavy gate, " Star-she-e-e !" 
 (the usual call for the officer of the day), A corporal or 
 sergeant, with a saber at his side and a Colt's revolver in a 
 holster on his hip, answered the summons, carried our note 
 to the warden, and in a moment we were admitted to the 
 prison yard. Fifty or sixty exiles and convicts were walk- 
 ing aimlessly back and forth in front of the main prison 
 building, or sitting idly in groups here and there on the 
 ground. They were all dressed from head to foot in a cos- 
 tume of gray, consisting of a visorless Scotch cap, a shirt and 
 trousers of coarse homespun linen, and a long gray overcoat 
 with one or two diamond-shaped patches of black or yellow 
 cloth sewn upon the back between the shoulders. Nearly 
 all of them wore leg-fetters, and the air was filled with a
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 
 
 85 
 
 THE COLKT-YARI) OF TlIK TIUMEN lia-ii.\.
 
 86 SIBERIA 
 
 peculiar clinking of chains which suggested the continuous 
 jingling of innumerable bunches of keys. 
 
 The lii'st /idnicra or cell that we entered was situated in 
 a one-story log barrack standing against the wall on the 
 left of the gate, and built evidently to receive the over- 
 flow from the crowded main building. The room was 
 about 35 feet in length by 25 in width and 12 feet high; 
 its walls of hewn logs were covered with dirty whitewash ; 
 its rough plank floor was black wdth dried mud and hard- 
 trodden filth ; and it was lighted by three grated windows 
 looking out into the prison yard. Down the center of the 
 room, and occupying about half its width, ran the sleeping- 
 bench — a wooden platform 12 feet wdde and 30 feet long, 
 supported at a height of 2 feet from the floor by stout 
 posts. Each longitudinal half of this low platform sloped 
 a little, roof -wise, from the center, so that when the pris- 
 oners slept upon it in two closely packed transverse rows, 
 their heads in the middle were a few inches higher than 
 their feet at the edges. These sleeping-platforms are known 
 as ndri, and a Siberian prison cell contains no other furni- 
 ture except a large wooden tub for excrement. The pris- 
 oners have neither pillows, blankets, nor bed-clothing, and 
 must lie on these hard plank ndri with no covering but 
 their overcoats. As we entered the cell, the convicts, with 
 a sudden jingling of chains, sprang to their feet, removed 
 their caps, and stood silently in a dense throng around the 
 ndri. " Zdrastvuitye rebiata ! " [How do you do, boys?] 
 said the warden. " Zdravie zhelaiem vashe vuisoki blaga- 
 rodie" [We wash you health, your high nobility], shouted 
 a hundred voices in a hoarse chorus. " The prison," said 
 the warden, "is terribly overcrowded. This cell, for exam- 
 ple, is only 35 feet long by 25 wide, and has air space for 
 35, or at most 40 men. How many men slept here last 
 night I" he inquired, turning to the prisoners. 
 
 "A hundred and sixty, your high nobility," shouted half 
 a dozen hoarse voices.
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 0/ 
 
 " You see how it is," said the warden, again addressing 
 me, " This cell contains more than four times the number 
 of prisoners that it was intended to hold, and the same 
 condition of things exists throughout the prison." I looked 
 around the cell. There was practically no ventilation what- 
 ever, and the air was so poisoned and foul that I could 
 hardly force myself to breathe it. We visited successively 
 in the yard six kdmeras or cells essentially like the first, 
 and found in every one of them three or four times the 
 number of prisoners for which it was intended, and five 
 or six times the number for which it had adequate air 
 space. In most of the cells there was not room enough on 
 the sleeping-platforms for all of the convicts, and scores of 
 men slept every night on the foul, muddy floors, under the 
 ndri^ and in the gangways between them and the walls. 
 Three or four pale, dejected, and apparently sick prisoners 
 crawled out from under the sleeping-platform in one of the 
 cells as we entered. 
 
 From the log barracks in the prison yard we went into 
 the main building, which contained the kitchen, the prison 
 workshops, and the hospital, as well as a large number of 
 kdmeras^ and which was in much worse sanitary condition 
 than the barracks. It was, in fact, a building through which 
 Mr. Ignatof — a former member of the prison committee — 
 declined to accompany us. On each side of the dark, damp, 
 and dirty corridors were heavy wooden doors, opening into 
 cells which varied in size from 8 feet by 10 to 10 by 15, 
 and contained from half a dozen to thirty prisoners. They 
 were furnished with nd}% like those in the cells that we had 
 already inspected ; their windows were small and heavily 
 grated, and no provision whatever had been made for ven- 
 tilation. In one of these cells were eight or ten dvorydne, 
 or " nobles," who seemed to be educated men, and in whose 
 presence the warden removed his hat. Whether any of them 
 were " politicals " or not I do not know^ ; but in this part of 
 the prison the politicals were usually confined. The air in
 
 88 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 MAKING UP AS EXILE PARTY IX THE TICM^N PRISON.
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 89 
 
 the corridors and cells, particularly in the second story, was 
 indescribably and unimaginably foul. Every cubic foot of 
 it had apparently been respired over and over again until 
 it did not contain an atom of oxygen ; it was laden with 
 fever germs from the unventilated hospital wards, fetid 
 odors from diseased human lungs and unclean human bodies, 
 and the stench arising from unemptied excrement buckets 
 at the ends of the corridors. I breathed ^s little as I pos- 
 sibly could, but every respiration seemed to pollute me to 
 the very soul, and I became faint from nausea and lack of 
 oxygen. It was like trying to breathe in an undergi'ound 
 hospital-drain. The smatritel, or warden, noticing perhaps 
 that my face had grown suddenly pale, offered me his cigar- 
 ette case, and said : " You are not accustomed to prison air. 
 Light a cigarette : it will afford some relief, and we will get 
 some wine or vodka presently in the dispensary." I acted 
 upon this suggestion and we continued our investigations. 
 The prison workshops, to which we were next taken, con- 
 sisted of two small cells in the second story, neither of them 
 more than eight feet square, and neither of them designed 
 for the use to which it had been put. In one, three or f our 
 convicts were engaged in cobbling shoes, and in the other 
 an attempt was being made to do a small amount of car- 
 penter's work. The workmen, however, had neither proper 
 tools nor suitable appliances, and it seemed preposterous to 
 call the small cells which they occupied "workshops." 
 
 We then went to the prison kitchen, a dark, dirty room in 
 the basement of the main building, where three or four half- 
 naked men were baking black rye-bread in loaves about as 
 large as milk-pans, and boiling soup in huge iron kettles on 
 a sort of brick range. I tasted some of the soup in a gi'easy 
 wooden bowl which a convict hastily cleaned for me with a 
 wad of dirty flax, and found it nutritious and good. The 
 bread was rather sour and heavy, but not worse than that 
 prepared and eaten by Eussian peasants generally. The 
 daily ration of the prisoners consisted of two and a half
 
 90 SIBERIA 
 
 pounds of this black broad, about six ounces of boiled meat, 
 and two or three ounces of coarsely ground barley or oats, 
 with a bowl of kras morning and evening for drink.' 
 
 After we had examined the workshops, the kitchen, and 
 most of the kdmeras in the first and second stories, the 
 smatritel turned to me and said, "Do you wish to go through 
 the hospital wards ? " " Certainly," I replied ; " we wish to see 
 everything that there is to be seen in the prison." The war- 
 den shrugged his shoulders, as if he could not understand a 
 curiosity which was strong enough to take travelers into a 
 Siberian prison hospital ; but, without making any remarks, 
 he led the way up another flight of stone steps to the third 
 story, which was given up entirely to the sick. The hospital 
 wards, which numbered five or six, were larger and lighter 
 than any of the cells that we had previously examined 
 in the main building, but they were wholly unventilated, 
 no disinfectants apparently were used in them, and the air 
 was polluted to the last possible degree. It did not seem to 
 me that a well man could live there a week without becom- 
 ing infected with disease, and that a sick man should ever 
 recover in that awful atmosphere was inconceivable. In 
 each ward were twelve or fifteen small iron bedsteads, set 
 with their heads to the walls round three sides of the room, 
 and separated one from another by about five feet of space. 
 Each bedstead was furnished with a thin mattress consist- 
 ing of a coarse gray bed-tick filled with straw, a single 
 pillow, and either a gray blanket or a ragged quilt. Mr. 
 Frost thought that some of the beds were supplied with 
 coarse gray linen sheets and pillow-cases, but I did not 
 notice anything of the kind. Over the head of each bed- 
 stead was a small blackboard, bearing in Russian and Latin 
 
 1 According to the rei)ort of the to the privileged classes (including 
 
 inspector of exile transportation for politicals) receive food that costs the 
 
 1884, the cost to the Government for the Government 5 cents a day per man. Of 
 
 food furnished each prisoner in the Tiu- course the quality of a daily ration that 
 
 Tuen forwarding prison is 'i% cents a costs onlyS^^ cents cannot be very high, 
 day (7 kopeks). Prisoners belonging
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWAKDING PRISON 91 
 
 characters the name of the prisouer's disease and the date of 
 his admission to the liospital. The most common disorders 
 seemed to be scurvy, typhus fever, typhoid fever, acute 
 bronchitis, rheumatism, and syphilis. Prisoners suffering 
 from malignant typhus fever were isolated in a single ward; 
 but with this exception no attempt apparently had been 
 made to group the patients in classes according to the na- 
 ture of their diseases. Women were separated from the men, 
 and that was all. Never before in my life had I seen faces 
 so white, haggard, and ghastly as those that lay on the gray 
 pillows in these hospital cells. The patients, both men and 
 women, seemed to be not only desperately sick, but hopeless 
 and heart-broken. I could not wonder at it. As I breathed 
 that heavy, stifling atmosphere, poisoned with the breaths 
 of syphilitic and fever-stricken patients, loaded and satu- 
 rated with the odor of excrement, disease germs, exhalations 
 from unclean human bodies, and foulness inconceivable, it 
 seemed to me that over the hospital doors should be written, 
 "All hope abandon, ye who enter here."^ 
 
 After we had gone through the women's lying-in ward 
 and the ward occupied by patients suffering from malig- 
 nant typhus fever, I told the smatritel that I had seen 
 enough; all I wanted was to get out of doors where I 
 could once more breathe. He conducted us to the dispen- 
 sary on the ground floor, offered us alcoholic stimulants, 
 and suggested that we allow ourselves to be sprayed with 
 carbolic acid and water. We probably had not been in 
 the prison long enough, he said, to take any infection ; but 
 we were unaccustomed to prison air, the hospital was in 
 bad condition, we had \dsited the malignant typhus fever 
 ward, and he thought the measure that he suggested was 
 nothing more than a proper precaution. We of course as- 
 sented, and were copiously sprayed from head to foot with 
 
 1 Thecostof themaintenaneeof each day. The dead were buried at an ex- 
 patient in the hospital of the Tinmen pense of $1.57 each. [Report of in- 
 forwarding prison in 1884, including spectorof exile transportation for 1884. J 
 food, medicines, etc., was 27 cents a
 
 92 SIBEKIA 
 
 dilute carbolic acid, which, after the foulness of the prison 
 atmosphere, seemed to us almost as refreshing as spirits of 
 cologne. 
 
 At last, having finished our inspection of the main build- 
 ing, we came out into the prison yard, where I drew a long, 
 deep breath of pure air with the delicious sense of relief 
 that. a half-di'owned man must feel when he comes to the 
 surface of the water. 
 
 "How many prisoners," I asked the warden, "usually 
 die in that hospital in the course of the year!" 
 
 "About 300," he replied. " We have an epidemic of ty- 
 phus almost every fall. What else could you expect when 
 buildings that are barely adequate for the accommodation 
 of 800 persons are made to hold 1800 ? A prison so over- 
 crowded cannot be kept clean, and as for the air in the 
 cells, you know now what it is like. In the fall it is some- 
 times much worse. During the summer the windows can 
 be left open, and some ventilation can be secured in that 
 way ; but when the weather becomes cold and stormy the 
 windows must be closed, and then there is no ventilation 
 at all. We suffer from it as well as the prisoners. My 
 assistant has only recently recovered from an attack of 
 typhus fever which kept him in bed for six weeks, and he 
 caught the disease in the prison. The local authorities 
 here have again and again urged the Government to make 
 adequate provision for the large number of exiles crowded 
 into this prison during the season of navigation, but thus 
 far nothing has been done beyond the building of two log 
 barracks." 
 
 The warden spoke naturally and frankly, as if the facts 
 that he gave me were known to everybody in Tinmen, and 
 as if there was no use in trying to conceal them even from 
 a foreign traveler when the latter had been through the 
 prison and the prison hospital. 
 
 From the main prison building we went to the women's 
 prison, which was situated on the other side of the road in
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 
 
 93 
 
 COURT-YARD OF THE WOMEN'S PRISON, TltTMEN.
 
 1)4 SIBEEIA 
 
 a court-yard formed by a high stockade of closely set and 
 sharpened logs. It did not differ much in external appear- 
 ance from the men's barracks inside the prison-wall, which 
 we had already examined. The hdmeyas viiried in size from 
 10 feet by VI to 30 feet by 45, and contained from three to 
 forty women each. They were all clean and well lighted, 
 the floors and sleeping-platforms had been scrubbed to a 
 snowy whiteness, strips of coarse carpet had been laid down 
 here and there in^the gangways between the ndri, and one 
 cell even had potted plants in the window. The women, 
 like the men, were obliged to sleep in rows on the hard 
 platforms without pillows or blankets, but their cells were 
 not so overcrowded as were those of the men, and the 
 air was infinitely purer. Most of the women seemed to 
 belong to the peasant class; many of them were accom- 
 panied by children, and I saw very few hard or vicious 
 faces. 
 
 From the women's prison we went to the prison for ex- 
 iled families, another stockaded log barrack about 75 feet 
 in length which had no cell partitions and which contained 
 nearly 300 men, women, and children. Here again the 
 sleeping-platforms were overcrowded; the air was heavy 
 and foul ; dozens of children were crying from hunger or 
 wretchedness ; and the men and women looked tired, sleep- 
 less, and dejected. None of the women in this barrack 
 were criminals. All were voluntarily going into banish- 
 ment with their criminal husbands, and most of them were 
 destined for points in Western Siberia. 
 
 About one o'clock in the afternoon, after having made 
 as thorough an examination as possible of all the prison 
 buildings, Mr. Frost and I went with Mr. Ignatof to lunch. 
 Knowing that our host was the contractor for the trans- 
 portation of exiles eastward by barge, and that he had 
 been a prominent member of the Tiumen prison commit- 
 tee, I asked him if the Government in St. Petersburg was 
 aware of the condition of the Tiumen forwarding prison.
 
 THE TIUMEN FOKWAKDING PRISON 95 
 
 and of the sickness and misery in which it resulted. He 
 replied in the affirmative. The local authorities, the prison 
 committee, and the inspector of exile transportation for 
 Western Siberia had reported upon the condition of the 
 Tiumen prison, he said, every year; but the case of that 
 prison was by no means an exceptional one. New pris- 
 ons were needed all over European Russia, as well as 
 Siberia, and the Government did not yet feel able finan- 
 cially to make sweeping prison reforms, nor to spend 
 perhaps ten million rubles in the erection of new prison 
 buildings. The condition of the Tiumen prison was, he 
 admitted, extremely bad, and he himself had resigned his 
 place as a member of the prison committee because the 
 Government would not authorize the erection of a new 
 building for use as a hospital. The prison committee had 
 strongly recommended it, and when the Government dis- 
 approved the recommendation, he resigned. 
 
 In the foregoing pages I have tried to describe the Tiumen 
 forwarding prison as it appears to the senses ; I will now de- 
 scribe it as it appears in the official records. 
 
 Colonel Vinokiirof, inspector of exile transportation for 
 Western Siberia, in his annual report for 1884 refers to it 
 as follows: 
 
 The Tiumen forwarding prison and the two wooden buildings 
 of the former Hape, taken together, have not cubic air space enough 
 to accommodate more than 550 persons. To these accommodations 
 of the prison proper there may be added, in summer, two cold bar- 
 racks [not warmed in any way], one in the prison yard and one 
 outside. In each of them may be put 150 persons. 
 
 It thus officially appears that the Tiumen forwarding pris- 
 on, including the log buildings that once constituted the 
 etape and two unwarmed wooden barracks, cannot properly 
 be made to hold more than 850 prisoners. From the table 
 quoted below it may be seen how many prisoners these 
 buildings actually did hold during the exile season from May
 
 96 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 1 to October 1, 1884. The figaires are from the report of 
 Colonel Viiiokiirof above cited. 
 
 1884. 
 The prison populatiou was 
 
 300 
 
 3')0 
 
 400 
 
 450 
 
 500 
 
 550 
 
 600 
 
 650 
 
 700 
 
 750 
 
 800 
 
 850 
 
 900 
 
 950 
 
 1000 
 
 1050 
 
 1100 
 
 1150 
 
 1200 
 
 1250 
 
 1300 
 
 1350 
 
 1450 
 
 1500 
 
 1650 
 
 lu 
 
 May, 
 Days. 
 
 In 
 Juue, 
 Days. 
 
 In 
 July, 
 Days. 
 
 In 
 
 AufTUst, 
 Days. 
 
 In 
 
 Sept., 
 Days. 
 
 Total, 
 Days. 
 
 321 
 
 291 
 
 31 
 
 31 
 
 2 
 2 
 7 
 7 
 3 
 2 
 11 
 3 
 5 
 11 
 8 
 
 13 
 
 11 
 
 5 
 
 12 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 30 153 
 
 From this table it appears that the prison began to be 
 overcrowded in May, almost as soon as the great annual 
 flood of exiles began to pour into it from European Russia. 
 It was crowded beyond its normal capacity 24 days in May, 
 17 days in June, 20 days in July, and 18 days in August ; 
 and at the time of the greatest congestion, just before the 
 opening of the season of navigation on the river Ob, it held 
 almost twice the number of prisoners for which it was in- 
 tended. 
 
 1 Error in original report. One day has been put into May that belongs in June.
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWAKDING PRISON 
 
 97 
 
 The natural result of such overcrowding as this, in old 
 buildings, not properly warmed, ventilated, or drained, is 
 an extremely high death-rate. The following table of sick- 
 ness and mortality is from the annual report of the inspec- 
 tor of exile transportation for the year 1885. 
 
 HOSPITAL RECORD OF TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON. 
 
 1885. Month. 
 
 Average 
 
 daily 
 number of 
 prisoners. 
 
 January i 705.2 
 
 February | 668.4 
 
 March I 670 
 
 April i 823.1 
 
 May 1200 
 
 June 1278.6 
 
 July 963.5 
 
 August 431.3 
 
 September 346.6 
 
 October 682.8 
 
 Noveiuber 964 
 
 December 709 
 
 Average daily number of prisoners for the year, 786. Total number of deaths, 
 182. Death rate, 23.1 per cent. 
 
 The significance of the figures in the foregoing table will 
 become apparent if the reader will take into consideration 
 the fact that the average death-rate in English towns is 
 from 1.9 to 2.5 per cent. Even in the most benighted and 
 unheathful parts of Siberia, where there are no physicians, 
 where the peasants are densely ignorant, and where no 
 attention whatever is paid to the laws of health, the death- 
 rate rarely exceeds 6 per cent. In the Tinmen forwarding 
 prison in 1885 it was 23.1 per cent. Nor was the year 1885 
 an exceptional year in the sense of being worse than usual. 
 
 1 Error in original report. Should be 11.3.
 
 98 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 On the contrary, that year, regarded from tlie point of view 
 of vital statistics, seems to have been a better one than 
 usual. Below will be found another table, also taken from 
 the annual report of the inspector of exile transportation, 
 containing statistics of sickness and death in the same 
 prison for the year 1884. 
 
 HOSPITAL RECORD OF TIUMfiN FORWARDING PRISON. 
 
 1884. Month. 
 
 January . 
 February 
 INIarch . . 
 April . . 
 May . . . 
 June . . 
 July . . . 
 August . 
 September 
 October . 
 November 
 December 
 
 Average 
 
 daily 
 
 number of 
 
 prisoners. 
 
 552.3 
 543.4 
 553 
 
 575.8 
 1105 
 989.5 
 978 
 938 
 521 
 472 
 771 
 899 
 
 Average 
 
 daily 
 niunber 
 
 in 
 hospital. 
 
 Percent. 
 
 64.3 
 
 62.7 
 
 50 
 
 37 
 
 48 
 53.2 
 58.8 
 68.2 
 43 
 58.4 
 75 
 129 
 
 11.8 
 11.5 
 
 9 
 
 6.4 
 
 4.3 
 
 5.4 
 
 6 
 
 7.3 
 
 8 
 12.3 
 
 9.8 
 14.3 
 
 Deaths. 
 
 13 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 7 
 
 26 
 
 39 
 
 48 
 
 16 
 
 9 
 
 11 
 
 38 
 
 Average daily number of prisoners for the year, 741. Total number of deaths, 
 219. Death rate, 29.5 per cent. 
 
 Such an annual death-rate as this is not to be found, I 
 believe, outside the Russian empire, in all the civilized 
 world. In the prisons of France the average death-rate is 
 about 3.8 per cent., in the prisons of Austria 3.5 per cent., in 
 the prisons of Belgium and Denmark 1.8 per cent., in the 
 prisons of the United States 1.7 to 2 per cent., and in the 
 prisons of England 1.4 per cent. In the' Tinmen forward- 
 ing prison the average death-rate was 29.5 per cent., or 
 almost 300 per thousand.
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 
 
 99 
 
 But the mortality in the Tiumeu prison has been, at 
 times, even greater than this. Below will be found a table 
 that I have compiled from the annual reports of the inspec- 
 tors of exile transportation for. the eleven-year period from 
 the 1st of January, 1876, to the 1st of January, 1887/ 
 
 DEATH-RATE IN TIUMEN FORWARDING PRISON 
 
 FOR ELEVEN-YEAR PERIOD FROM 1876 TO 1886 INCLUSm:. 
 
 Year. 
 
 Whole number' ^Y*"?®® 
 
 of prisoners ^ ^' '^ ^ 
 
 -„ number of 
 
 for year. 
 
 pnsoners. 
 
 Whole 
 number 
 
 of 
 deaths. 
 
 Percentage 
 
 of 
 
 deaths. 
 
 1876 20,482 
 
 1877 \ 19,042 
 
 1878 I 19,972 
 
 1879 I 20,174 
 
 1880 
 1881 
 1882 
 
 1883 
 1884 
 1885 
 1886 
 
 19,975 
 19,063 
 18,580 
 22,010 
 21,014 
 19,250 
 19,016 
 
 813 
 756 
 793 
 801 
 793 
 757 
 738 
 874 
 834 
 764 
 755 
 
 284 
 
 279 
 
 329 
 
 354 
 
 256 
 
 219 
 
 175 
 
 311 
 
 2242 
 
 182 
 
 254 
 
 34.9 
 36.9 
 41.4 
 44.1 
 32.2 
 29.9 
 23.7 
 35.5 
 26.8 
 23.8 
 33.6 
 
 From the above table it appears that, in the course of the 
 eleven-year period from 1876 to 1886 inclusive, the death- 
 rate in the Tinmen forwarding prison ranged from 23.7 per 
 cent, to 44.1 per cent. ; and that in seven years out of the 
 eleven it was higher than 30 per cent. This would com- 
 pletely annihilate a fixed population in from two and a half 
 to four years. The record of our convict camps, and the 
 
 1 The average daily number of prison- 
 ers IS computed from the total annual 
 number upon the basis of 14 1^ days' 
 detention for every prisoner. This is 
 not absolutely correct, but the error, as 
 may be seen by comparison with the 
 
 foregoing tables, is not great enough to 
 make any material difference. 
 
 2 As regards this number there is a 
 discrepancy in the original report which 
 I am unable to rectify. In one table it 
 is given as 219, in the other 224.
 
 100 SIBERIA 
 
 history of our leased-eoiivict system in North Carolina, 
 Tennessee, Mississippi, and Louisiana — shocking and 
 shameful as that record is — cannot parallel this rate of 
 mortality. According to Mr. Cable, whose researches in the 
 held of leased-convict labor are well known, the annual death- 
 rate amongst leased convicts working on railroads in North 
 Carolina in 1879 was a little less than 11.5 per cent. — a 
 death-rate, he remarks, higher than that of the city of New 
 Orleans during the great epidemic of yellow fever in 1853. 
 And yet this rate is only a quarter as high as the death- 
 rate in the Tinmen forwarding prison that very same year 
 of 1879. 
 
 It has been said to me repeatedly, since the publication 
 of my magazine articles upon this sul^ject, that " there are 
 prisons in America as bad as any that you have described 
 in Russia." This remark has been made to me even by 
 American prison othcials. I should like to know in what 
 part of the United States such prisons are situated. Some 
 American prisons, I know, are bad enough, and I have no 
 desire to excuse or palliate their evils ; but when an Ameri- 
 can says that they are as bad as the Tinmen forwarding 
 prison, he does not know, or does not appreciate, the state 
 of affairs in the latter. 
 
 In the year 1885 Dr. P. D. Sims, chairman of the prison 
 committee of the Tennessee State Board of Health, made a 
 report to the president of that board upon the condition of 
 the convicts in the Tennessee State prisons under the so- 
 called " lease system." In this report he showed that among 
 the prisoners in the branch j^risons at Coal Creek and Tracy 
 City the death-rate ranged from 10 to 14 per cent, per an- 
 num, or from 105 to 147 per annum per thousand. After 
 quoting the statistics in detail he said : 
 
 Before these figures humanity stands aghast and our boasted 
 civihzation must hide her face in shame. We are appalled at their 
 enormity. We fain would throw over them the mantle of eternal 
 oblivion and forever hide them from the e:aze of the civilized
 
 THE TIUMEN FORWAEDING PRISON 101 
 
 world ; but we must not. They are our own published records, 
 made by ourselves for ourselves. The once proud State of Tennes- 
 see, chivalrous and public-spirited, stands to-day before the world 
 a self-convicted murderer ; and her victims are her own sons and 
 daughters. Prison mortality should run from 8 to 25 per thousand 
 per annum, whereas ours has reached the startling height of 147 
 per thousand per annum. If by a humane and well-regulated penal 
 system prison mortality is reduced to an average of 15 per thousand 
 per annum, then the system that shows a mortality of 147 per thou- 
 sand is responsible for the murder of 132 per annum of every 
 thousand in its charge.^ 
 
 I would ask the gentlemen who think that some Ameri- 
 can prisons are as bad as any that I have described, to 
 compare the Coal Creek and Tracy City statistics with the 
 records of Tinmen. Dr. Sims declares that " before a death- 
 rate of 147 per thousand per annum humanity stands 
 aghast." What, then, must be said of a death-rate that 
 ranges from 230 per thousand to 440 per thousand ? Be- 
 tween 1876 and 1887 there was not a single year in which 
 the death-rate in the Tinmen forwarding prison was not 
 more than double that in the Tennessee prisons, and in 1878 
 and 1879 it was more than three times the Tennessee rate. 
 If, to adopt the metaphor of the Chattanooga surgeon, 
 " Civilization hides her face in shame " at a death-rate of 147 
 per thousand, by what gesture or attitude shall she express 
 her humiliation when shown in Russia a death-rate of 440 
 per thousand ? 
 
 It may be said that the cases are not parallel, for the rea- 
 son that the population of the Tinmen forwarding prison is 
 composed largely of young children, who, by reason of 
 their tender age, are more susceptible to disease and more 
 likely to die than the mature convicts in Tennessee. This 
 may be a good and sufficient explanation of a part of the 
 difference between a death-rate of 147 and a death-rate of 
 
 1 Report of Dr. p. D. Sims, chairman tanooga, January 6, 1885. Xashville 
 of the prison committee of the Tennes- Weekly Banner, January 29, 1885. 
 see State Board of Health, dated Chat-
 
 102 SIBERIA 
 
 440 ; but it is Ijy no means a good defense against the 
 charge of inhumanity. If it be cruel and shameful to kill 
 grown criminals by subjecting them to murderous sanitary 
 conditions, how much more cruel and shameful it is to put 
 to death in that way innocent children, whose only crime is 
 their helpless dependence upon exiled parents. 
 
 Eeaders who are familiar with the constant relation that 
 exists between a high death-rate on the one hand, and over- 
 crowding, filth, foul air, bad food, and bad sanitary conditions 
 generally on the other, will not, I think, regard my descrip- 
 tion of the Tinmen forwarding prison as exaggerated, when 
 they read it in the light of an officially admitted death-rate 
 ranging from 23 to 44 per cent. — a death-rate which, to adopt 
 the words of Mr. Cable, "exceeds that of any pestilence 
 that ever fell on«.Europe in the Middle Ages."
 
 CHAPTER Y 
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 
 
 THE town of Tiumen, and the province of Tobolsk in 
 which it is situated, have much more commercial 
 importance than is generally supposed. Siberian cold and 
 Siberian desolation have been so much talked and written 
 about, and have been brought so forcibly to the attention 
 of the world by the terrible experience of De Long and the 
 survivors of the Jeamietfe, that nine readers out of ten, in 
 forming a conception of the country, give undue prominence 
 to its arctic side and its winter aspect. When, in conver- 
 sation since my return, I have happened to refer to Siberian 
 tobacco, Siberian orchids, or Siberian camels, my remarks 
 have even been received with smiles of incredulity. I do 
 not know any better way to overthrow the erroneous popular 
 conception of Siberia than to assail it with facts and statis- 
 tics, even at the risk of being wearisome. I will therefore 
 say, briefly, that the province of Tobolsk, which is the part 
 of Siberia with which a traveler from Europe first becomes 
 acquainted, extends from the coast of the arctic ocean to the 
 sun-scorched steppes of Semipalatinsk and Akmolinsk, and 
 from the mountains of the Ural to the boundary line of 
 Yeniseisk and Tomsk. It has an area of 590,000 square 
 miles and includes 27,000,000 acres of arable land. It con- 
 tains 8 towns of from 3000 to 20,000 inhabitants, and its 
 total population exceeds 1,200,000. In the last year for 
 which I was able to get statistics the province produced 
 30,044,880 bushels of grain and 3,778,230 bushels of potatoes,
 
 104 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 and eoiitaiuod 2,647,000 head of live stock. It sends annually 
 to European Russia enormous quantities of raw products, 
 such as hides, tallow, bristles, fui-s, birds' skins, flax, and 
 hemp ; it forwards more than 2,000,000 pounds of butter to 
 
 Constantinople by way of Rastof, on the Don ; and there is 
 held within its limits, at Irbit, a commercial fair whose trans- 
 actions amount annually to 35,000,000 rubles ($17,500,000). 
 The manufacturing industries of the province, although still 
 in their infancy, furnish employment to 6252 persons and
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 105 
 
 put annually upon the market goods to the value of 8,517,000 
 rubles. Besides the workmen employed in the regular 
 manufacturing establishments, the urban population in- 
 cludes 27,000 mechanics and skilled laborers. Cottage indus- 
 tries are carried on extensively throughout the province, and 
 produce annually, among other things, 50,000 rugs and car- 
 pets ; 1,500,000 fathoms of fish netting ; 2,140,000 yards of 
 linen cloth ; 50,000 barrels ; 70,000 telegas and sleighs ; 
 leather manufactures to the value of 2,500,000 rubles ; and 
 quantities of dressed furs, stockings, mittens, belts, scarfs, 
 laces, and ornamented towels and sheets. The quantity of 
 fish caught annually along the Ob and its tributaries is es- 
 timated at 8000 tons, and salt to the amount of 3000 tons is 
 used in curing it. Tiumen, which is the most important 
 town in the province, stands on a navigable branch of the 
 vast Ob river system, through which it has steam communi- 
 cation with the greater part of Western Siberia, from Semi- 
 palatinsk and Tomsk to the shores of the arctic ocean. 
 Fifty-eight steamers ply on the Ob and its tributaries, most 
 of them between Tomsk and Tiumen, and through the latter 
 city is transported annually merchandise to the value of 
 thirty or forty million rubles. Sixteen million rubles'' worth 
 of Siberian products are brought every year to the Mzhni 
 Novgorod fair, and in exchange for this mass of raw material 
 European Eussia sends annually to Siberia nearly 300,000 
 tons of manufactured goods. 
 
 It cannot, I think, be contended that a country which 
 furnishes such statistics as these is an arctic desert or an 
 uninhabited waste. 
 
 On the next day after our arrival in Tiumen the weather 
 furnished us with convincing evidence of the fact that the 
 Siberian summer climate, although sometimes as mild and 
 delightful as that of California, is fickle and untrustworthy. 
 During the night the wind changed suddenly to the north- 
 east, and a furious storm of cold, driving rain swept down 
 across the tundras from the coast of the arctic ocean, turning
 
 106 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 tlie unpaved and ur.sewerod streets of tlie city to lakes of 
 liquid nuul, and making it practically impossible to go out 
 of doors. We succeeded, with the aid of a drosJiky, in get- 
 ting to the post-office and back, and devoted the remainder 
 of the day to reading, and to writing letters. On Saturday, 
 during lulls in the storm, we walked and rode about the city, 
 but saw little to reward us for our trouble. The muddy, 
 unpaved streets did not differ much in appearance from the 
 streets of the villages through which we had passed, except 
 
 that some of them 
 had plank sidewalks, 
 and the unpainted 
 log houses with high, 
 steep, pyramidal 
 roofs were larger and 
 more pretentious. 
 There was the same 
 absence of trees, 
 shrubbery, front 
 yards and front doors which we had noticed in all of the 
 Siberian villages ; and but for the white- walled and green- 
 domed churches, which gave it a certain air of pictur- 
 esqueness, the town would have been commonplace and 
 uninteresting. 
 
 The only letter of introduction we had to deliver in Tin- 
 men was from a Russian gentleman in St. Petersburg to 
 Mr. Slovtsof, director of the redlnoi ticJiilishche, an in- 
 stitution that is known in Germany as a "real schule." 
 Saturday afternoon, the storm having broken, we presented 
 this letter and were received by Mr. Slovtsof with gi'eat 
 cordiality. The educational institution over which he pre- 
 sides is a scientific and technical school similar in plan to 
 the Institute of Technology in Boston. It occupies the 
 largest and finest edifice in the city — a substantial two- 
 story structure of white-stuccoed brick, nearly twice as large 
 as the Executive Mansion in Washington. This building was 
 
 THE " KEAL
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 
 
 107 
 
 erected and equipped at a cost of $85,000 by one of Tiu- 
 men's wealthy and public-spirited merchants, and was then 
 presented to the city as a gift. One would hardly expect 
 to find such a school in European Russia, to say nothing 
 of Siberia, and indeed one might look far without finding 
 such a school even in the United States. It has a mechan- 
 ical department, with a steam engine, lathes, and tools of 
 all kinds; a department of physics, with fine apparatus, 
 including even the Bell, Edison, and Dolbear telephones 
 and the phonogi'aph; a chemical laboratory, with a more 
 complete equipment than I have ever seen, except in the 
 Boston Institute of Technology ; a department of art and 
 mechanical di'awing; a good library, and an excellent mu- 
 seum — the latter containing, among other things, 900 
 species of wild flowers collected in the vicinity of the city. 
 It is, in short, a school that would be in the highest degree 
 creditable to any city of similar size in the United States. 
 
 From Mr. Slovtsof we obtained the address of Mr. 
 Jacob R. Wardropper, a Scotch gentleman who had 
 for twenty years or more been engaged in business in 
 Siberia; and feeling sure that Mr. 
 "Wardropper would be glad to see 
 anj one from the western world, 
 we ventured to call upon him 
 without the formality of an in- 
 troduction. We were received by 
 the whole family with the most 
 warm-hearted hospitality, and their 
 house was made almost a home to 
 us during the remainder of our 
 stay in the city. 
 
 On the morning after our first visit to the Tinmen for- 
 warding prison we had an opportunity of seeing the de- 
 parture of a marching exile party. We went to the prison 
 merely for the purpose of getting a sketch or a photograph 
 of it, but happened to be just in time to see a party of 360 
 
 VOLUNTARY EXILES.' 
 (DOBROVOLNI.)
 
 108 SIBERIA 
 
 men, women, and children set out on foot for Yalutorfsk. 
 Our attention was first attracted by a great crowd of people 
 standing in the street outside the prison wall. As we drew 
 nearer, the crowd resolved itself into a hundred or more 
 women and children in bright-colored calico gowns, with 
 kerchiefs over their heads, and about 250 men dressed in 
 the gray exile costume, all standing close together in a 
 dense throng, surrounded by a cordon of soldiers. In the 
 street near them w^ere fifteen or twenty one-horse telerjas, 
 or small four-wheeled wagons, some piled high with the 
 gray bags in which exiles carry their spare clothing and 
 j)ersonal property, and some filled with men, women, and 
 children, who, by reason of age, weakness, or infirmity, 
 could not walk. It seemed surprising to me that anybody 
 should be able to walk after a week's confinement in that 
 prison. The air was filled with a continuous hum of voices 
 as the exiles talked eagerly with one another, and occasion- 
 ally we could hear the wail of a sick child from one of the 
 feMgas, or a faint jingle of chains as some of the men, tired 
 of standing, changed their positions or threw themselves 
 on the ground. The officer in charge of the party, a heav- 
 ily built man with yellowish side-whiskers, light-blue eyes, 
 and a hard, unsympathetic face, stood near the telegas, 
 surrounded by women and children, who were begging 
 him to let them ride. 
 
 " Please put my little girl in a wagon," said one pale-faced 
 woman, as I approached the group. " She is n't ten years 
 old and she has a lame ankle ; she can never walk thirty 
 verstsJ'^ 
 
 "What 's the matter with her ankle?" inquired the 
 officer impatiently, looking down at the child's thin bare 
 feet and legs. 
 
 " I don't know ; she says it hurts her," replied the mother. 
 " Please let her ride, for God's sake ! " 
 
 " She can't ride, I tell you — there 's no room," said the 
 officer, still more impatiently. "I don't believe there 's
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 
 
 109 
 
 A MAi;( lllNi; EXII.K PARTY.
 
 110 SIBERIA 
 
 anything the matter with her ankle, and anybody can see 
 that she 's more than twelve years old." ' 
 
 " Stupai ! " [Move on !], he said sternly to the child ; 
 " you can pick flowers better if you walk." 
 
 The mother and the child shrank away without a word, 
 and the officer, to escape further importunities, shouted the 
 order to " Form ranks ! " The hum of conversation suddenly 
 ceased ; there was a jingling of chains as the prisoners who 
 had been lying on the ground sprang to their feet ; the sol- 
 diers of the guard shouldered their rifles ; the exiles crossed 
 themselves devoutly, bowing in the direction of the prison 
 chapel ; and at the word " March ! " the whole column was 
 instantly in motion. Three or four Cossacks, in dark-green 
 uniforms and with rifles over their shoulders, took the lead ; 
 a dense but disorderly throng of men and women followed, 
 marching between thin, broken lines of soldiers ; next came 
 the telegas with the old, the sick, and the small children ; 
 then a rear-guard of half a dozen Cossacks ; and finally four 
 or five wagons piled high with gray bags. Although the 
 road was soft and muddy, in five minutes the party was 
 out of sight. The last sounds I heard were the jingling of 
 chains and the shouts of the Cossacks to the children to 
 keep within the lines. These exiles were nearly all persons 
 banished by Russian communes, and were destined for 
 towns and villages in the southern part of the province of 
 Tobolsk.- 
 
 Having witnessed the departure of one of the marching 
 parties, we went down Saturday afternoon to the steamer- 
 landing to see the embarkment of 700 exiles for Tomsk. 
 Criminals destined for points in Eastern Siberia are trans- 
 ported from Tinmen to Tomsk in convict barges, furnished 
 for the purpose by a wealthy firm of contractors, and towed 
 
 1 All children twelve years of age 2 i gjiall describe fully in a later chap- 
 
 and upward, without regard to sex, ter the life of marching exile parties on 
 
 are expected to march if well. Chil- the road. I did not have a favorable 
 
 dren less than twelve years of age are opportunity to study it until I reached 
 
 carried in rude one-horse carts. Tomsk.
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 111 
 
 back and forth by their passenger steamers. The contrac- 
 tors, at the time of our journey to Siberia, were Kurbatof and 
 Ignatof, steamboat proprietors of Tiumen. The convict 
 barges are three in number, and during the season of navi- 
 gation, which lasts from May until October, they make, on 
 an average, six round trips each, or eighteen trips alto- 
 gether. In 1884, the first barge left Tiumen on the 27th of 
 May and the last one reached Tomsk on the 4th of October. 
 The voyage between the two cities occupies from seven to 
 ten days according to the season of the year and the stage 
 of the water. In 1884, the shortest voyage was seven days 
 and six hours, and the longest ten days and nine hours. 
 The number of convicts and exiles transported by these 
 barges from Tiumen to Tomsk in the five years from 1880 
 to 1884 inclusive was reported by the inspector of exile 
 transportation as follows. 
 
 Year. 
 
 Received Delivered 
 
 in Tiumen. in Tomsk. 
 
 1880 10,243 10,269 
 
 1881 10,757 10,462 
 
 1882 10,630 10,245 
 
 1883 10,726 11,049 
 
 1884 10,229 10,692 
 
 Totals . . . 52,585 52,717i 
 
 The contract for the transportation of exiles from Tiumen 
 to Tomsk, which was made with Kurbatof & Ignatof in 
 1882, provides that the contractors shall furnish three 
 barges large enough to accommodate 600 prisoners each, 
 and that such barges shall make eighteen trips between 
 terminal points in the course of every season of na\dgation. 
 The contract, therefore, requires the transportation of 
 10,800 exiles pei* annum. The average number actually 
 carried in the five years covered by the foregoing table was 
 10,543 per annum, and at that rate the average barge-load 
 
 ' A few were taken or left every year at Tobolsk and other way places.
 
 112 
 
 SIBEKIA 
 
 would be 586 persons. Owing-, however, to circumstances 
 bej'ond the control of the contractors and the local author- 
 ities in Tinmen, it becomes necessary, at certain times, to 
 despatch the barges only half loaded, and at other times to 
 crowd them to the very point of sutfocation. In 1884, for 
 example, the barge-loads ranged from 334 to 797. The 
 
 A CONVICT BARGE. 
 
 
 
 FIG. 1. PLAN OF CAGE-DECIv. 
 
 A, Men's cage ; B, Women's cage ; C, Honpilal cells and disiiensary ; 
 D, OflScers' (luarters and cells for privileged class ; E, Cook's galley. 
 
 FIG. 2. PLAN OF LOWER-DECK. 
 
 F, Cabin for bard-labor convicts (men) ; G, Cabin for exiles and penal 
 colonists (men) ; H, Women's cabin; a, b, Nares, or sleeping-platforms. 
 
 ' -m^ Lb 
 
 FIG. 3. TRANSVERSE SECTION OF BARGE. 
 
 D D, Deck-bouses ; G, Sleeping-cabin; a, b, Cross-section 
 of sleeping-platforms. 
 
 latter number was probably more than twice as great as 
 could be comfortably accommodated in a vessel of such 
 form and dimensions. 
 
 The convict barge which lay at the Tinmen steam- 
 boat-landing on Saturday, June 27th, and which we were 
 permitted to inspect, did not differ much in general appear- 
 ance from an ordinary ocean steamer, except that it drew 
 less water and had no rigging. The black iron hull was 
 about 220 feet in length by 30 in width, pierced by a hori- 
 zontal line of small rectangular port-holes which opened 
 into the sleejoing-cabins on the lower deck. The upper 
 deck supported two large yellow deck-houses about 75 feet
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 
 
 113 
 
 apart, one of which eontaiued three or four hospital wards 
 and a dispensary, and the other, quarters for the officers of 
 the convoy and a few cells for exiles belonging to the noble 
 or privileged class. The space between the deck-houses was 
 roofed over and inclosed on each side by a coarse network 
 of heavy iron wire, so as to make a cage 30 feet wide and 
 75 feet long, where the prisoners could walk and breathe 
 the fresh air. This cage, which is known to the common- 
 criminal exiles as the " chicken-coop," was divided by a 
 network partition into two compartments of unequal size, 
 the smaller of which was intended for the women and 
 children and the larger for the men. Companion-ladders 
 
 AN EXILE PARTY ABOUT TO EMBARK. 
 
 led down into the sleeping cabins, of which there were 
 three or four, varying in length from 30 to 60 feet, 
 with a uniform width of 30 feet and a height of about 
 7. One of these cabins was occupied by the women and 
 children, and the others were given up to the men. 
 Through the center of each cabin ran longitudinally two 
 tiers of double sleeping-platforms, precisely like those in 
 the Tinmen prison kdmeras, upon which the exiles lay 
 athwart-ship in four closely packed rows, with their heads 
 together over the line of the keel. Along each side of the 
 barge ran two more tiers of ndri, upon which the prisoners 
 lay lengthwise head to feet, in rows four or five wide. A 
 reference to the plan and section of the barge will, I think, 
 render this description of the interior of the sleeping- 
 cabins fairly intelligible. The vessel had been thoroughly 
 8
 
 114 SIBERIA 
 
 cleaned and disinfected after its return from a previous 
 trip to Tomsk, and the air in the cabins was pure and 
 sweet. 
 
 The barge hiy at a floating landing-stage of the type with 
 which we had become familiar on the rivers Volga and 
 Kama, and access to it was gained by means of a zigzag 
 wooden bridge sloping down to it from the high bank of 
 the river. When we reached the landing, a dense throng 
 of exiles, about one-third of whom were women, were stand- 
 ing on the bank waiting to embark. They were surrounded 
 by a cordon of soldiers, as usual, and non-commissioned offi- 
 cers were stationed at intervals of twenty or thirty feet on 
 the bridge leading down to the landing-stage. I persuaded 
 Colonel Vinokiirof, inspector of exile transportation for 
 Western Siberia, to delay the embarkment a little, in order 
 that we might take photographs of the exiles and the barge. 
 As soon as this had been accomplished the order was given 
 to "Let them go on board," and the prisoners, shouldering 
 their gray bags, walked one by one down the sloping bridge 
 to the landing-stage. More than three-fourths of the men 
 were in leg-fetters, and for an hour there was a continuous 
 clinking of chains as the prisoners passed me on their way 
 to the barge. The exiles, although uniformly clad in gray, 
 presented, from an ethnological point of view, an extraor- 
 dinary diversity of types, having been collected evidently 
 from all parts of the vast empire. There were fierce, wild- 
 looking mountaineers from Daghestan and Circassia, con- 
 demned to penal servitude for murders of blood-revenge ; 
 there were Tatars from the lower Volga, who had been 
 sunburned until they were almost as black as negroes; 
 Turks from the Crimea, whose scarlet fezzes contrasted 
 strangely with their gray convict overcoats; crafty-look- 
 ing Jews from Podolia, going into exile for smuggling ; and 
 finally, common peasants in great numbers from all parts 
 of European Russia. The faces of the prisoners generally 
 were not as hard, vicious, and depraved as the faces of
 
 A SIBEKIAN CONVICT BARGE 
 
 115 
 
 EXILES GOING ON BOARD THE BARGE.
 
 116 
 
 SIBEKIA 
 
 criuiiiials in America. Many of tlioni wore pleasant and 
 good-humored, some were fairly intelligent, and even tlie 
 worst seemed to me stupid and brutish rather than savage 
 
 W/'/ZM'/A 
 
 MKN'S CAGE, CONVICT BARGE — EXILES BUYING FOOD. 
 
 or malignant. At last all were on board ; the sliding doors 
 of the network cages were closed and secured with heavy 
 padlocks, and a regular Russian bazar opened on the land- 
 ing-stage. Male and female peddlers to the number of
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 117 
 
 forty or fifty were allowed to come down to the side of the 
 barge to sell provisions to the prisoners, most of whom 
 seemed to be in possession of money. In one place might 
 be seen a half-grown girl passing hard-boiled eggs one by 
 one through the interstices of the network; in another, a 
 gray-haired old woman was pouring milk through a tin 
 tube into a tea-pot held by a convict on the inside of the 
 cage ; and all along the T^arge men were buying or bar- 
 gaining for loaves of black rye-bread, salted cucumbers, 
 pretzels, and fish turnovers. The peddlers seemed to have 
 perfect trust in the convicts, and often passed in food to 
 them before they had received pay for it. The soldiers 
 of the guard, who were good-looking, fresh-faced young 
 fellows, facilitated the buying and selling as far as possi- 
 ble by handing in the provisions and handing out the 
 money, or by opening the sliding doors for the admission 
 of such bulky articles as loaves of bread, which could not 
 be passed through the network. 
 
 While we stood looking at this scene of busy traffic, a long- 
 haired Russian priest in a black gown and a broad-brimmed 
 felt hat crossed the landing-stage and entered one of the 
 deck-houses, followed by an acolyte bearing his robes and a 
 prayer-book. In a few moments, having donned his eccle- 
 siastical vestments, he entered the women's cage, with a 
 smoking censer in one hand and an open book in the other, 
 and began a moleben, or service of prayer. The women all 
 joined devoutly in the supplications, bowing, crossing them- 
 selves, kneeling, and even pressing their foreheads to the 
 deck. The priest hurried through the service, however, in 
 a perfunctory manner, swung the censer back and forth a 
 few times so as to fill the compartment with fragrant smoke, 
 and then went into the men's cage. There much less interest 
 seemed to be taken in the services. The convicts and sol- 
 diers removed their caps, but only a few joined in the prayer, 
 and buying and selling went on without interruption all 
 along the side of the barge. The deep-voiced chanting of
 
 118 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 the priest niiiig-liiig- with the hii»'h-pitehed rattle of chains, the 
 chaft'eriug of pecUUers, and the shontiiig of orders to soldiers 
 on the roof of the eag-e prodneed a most strange and incon- 
 
 IN81DE THE WOMEN'S CAGE, CONVICT BARGE. 
 
 gruous effect. Finally, the service ended, the priest took off 
 his vestments, wished the commanding officer of the convoy 
 a pleasant voyage, and returned to the city, while Mr. Frost 
 and I walked back and forth on the landing-stage studying 
 the faces of the prisoners. With few exceptions the latter
 
 A SIBERIAN CONVICT BARGE 
 
 11!) 
 
 seemed cheerful and happy, aud in all parts of the cage we 
 could hear laughter, joking, and animated conversation. 
 Mr. Frost finaDy began making sketches in his note-book of 
 some of the more striking of the convict types on the other 
 side of the network. This soon attracted the attention of 
 the prisoners, and amidst great laughter and merriment they 
 began dragging forward and arranging, in what they re- 
 garded as artistic poses, the convicts whom they thought 
 most worthy of an artist's pencil. Having selected a subject, 
 
 V CONVICT TYPES. \ " 
 
 they would place him in all sorts of studiously careless and 
 negligent attitudes, comb and arrange the long hair on the 
 unshaven side of his head, try the effect of a red fez or an 
 embroidered Tatar cap, and then shout suggestions and 
 directions to the artist. This arranging of figures and 
 groups for Mr. Frost to draw seemed to afford them great 
 amusement, and was accompanied with as much joking and 
 laughter as if they were school-boys off for a picnic, 
 instead of criminals bound for the mines. 
 
 At last, just after sunset, a steamer made fast to the 
 barge, the order was given to cast off the lines, the exiles 
 all crow^ded against the network to take a parting look at 
 Tinmen, and the gi-eat black-and-yellow floating prison 
 moved slowly out into the stream and began its long voyage 
 to Tomsk.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 
 
 ^I"^HE traveler who desires to go from Tiumen to Eastern 
 JL Siberia has a choice of three widely different routes ; 
 namely, first, the northern or river route down the Irtish 
 and up the Ob by steamer to Tomsk ; second, the middle or 
 winter route, which follows the great Siberian post road 
 through Omsk, Kainsk, and Kolivan ; and third, the south- 
 ern or steppe route, via Omsk, Pavlodar, Semipalatinsk, and 
 Barnaiil. Each of these routes has some advantage not 
 possessed by either of the others. The middle route, for ex- 
 ample, is the shortest, but it is also the most traveled and 
 the best known. The northern route is less familiar, and in 
 summer is more comfortable and convenient ; but it takes 
 one through an uninteresting, thinly inhabited, sub-arctic 
 region. 
 
 I decided, after careful consideration, to proceed from 
 Tiumen to Tomsk through the steppes of the Irtish by way 
 of Omsk, Pavlodar, Semipalatinsk, Ust-Kamenogorsk, and 
 Barnaiil. This route would take us through the best agri- 
 cultural part of the provinces of Tobolsk and Tomsk, as 
 well as the districts most thickly settled by exiles ; it would 
 enable us to see something of the Mohammedan city of Semi- 
 palatinsk and of the great nomadic and pastoral tribe of 
 natives known as the Kfrghis ; and finally it would afford 
 us an opportunity to explore a part of the Russian Altai 
 — a high, picturesque, mountainous region on the Mon- 
 golian frontier, which had been described to me by Russian
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 
 
 121 
 
 army officers, in terms of enthusiastic admiration, as " the 
 Siberian Switzerland." I had, moreover, another reason 
 for wishing to keep as far away as possible from the regu- 
 lar through routes of travel. I supposed when we left 
 St. Petersburg that we should be 
 obliged to go from Tinmen to 
 Tomsk either by steamer or over 
 the great Siberian road. The 
 Minister of the Interior under- 
 stood that such would be our 
 course, and he caused letters to 
 be written to all the local offi- 
 cials along these routes, apprising 
 them of our coming and furnish- 
 ing them with such instructions 
 concerning us as the circum- 
 stances seemed to require. What 
 these instructions were I could 
 never ascertain ; but they antici- 
 pated us at every important point 
 on the great Siberian road from 
 Tiumen to the capital of the 
 Trans-Baikal. In Eastern Siberia 
 the local authorities knew all 
 about us months before we ar- 
 rived. I first became aware of 
 these letters and this system of official surveillance at Tin- 
 men ; and as they seemed likely to interfere seriously with 
 my plans, — particularly in the field of political exile, — I de- 
 termined to escape or elude them as far as possible, by 
 leaving the regular through route and going into a region 
 where the authorities had not presumably been forewarned 
 of our coming. I had reason afterward to congratulate 
 myself upon the exercise of sound judgment in making 
 this decision. The detour to the southward brought us 
 not only into the part of Siberia where the political exiles 
 
 Tiume'nV v. 
 
 ,^^!^^ 
 
 
 55>!fTobolsk 
 
 ,^rf-i''"'"'^il u t o r f s k 
 
 /S. 
 
 HWagai'skc 
 
 y^ VS 
 
 Gallshma'nov^ / 
 
 % 
 
 ft 
 
 ' V 
 
 r 
 
 IbaTskaya N?- 
 
 v^ 
 
 Drldva Va- 
 
 Krulay^ 
 
 ^^almakdva v 
 
 
 IJ'^'''''^''- JTara 
 
 
 lAndronika /^ 
 
 BeVishe 
 
 
 
 y/Sukhofskaya 
 
 Omsk 
 
 r 
 
 
 }Ust Zaostrofskaya 
 
 
 lAchairskaya 
 
 Iz.lbashskaya 
 
 JPokrdfskaya. 
 
 Jsalyanskaya 
 
 
 rCherlak'ofskaya 
 
 Urliutiupskaya( 
 
 Zhel^zihskaya 
 
 Pialorizhskayai 
 
 ' 
 
 Bobrpfskaya 
 
 0; 
 
 f Peschannaya 
 
 •<; 
 
 f 
 
 
 Pavloda'r 
 
 
 V'amishe'fskaya 
 
 Chdrnaya/jp 
 
 Ml 
 
 sbia'zhia 
 
 
 -v 
 
 GrachevskayaVl 
 
 emiarskaya ly if 
 
 V 
 
 ^. /\ 
 
 Dolo'nskaya* 
 
 V / ^ 
 
 
 ^Semipalalinsk 
 
 ENLARGED MAF 
 
 OF ROUTE FROM 
 
 TICMEN TO 
 
 SEMIPALATINSK.
 
 122 SIBERIA 
 
 enjoy most freedom, and where it is easiest to make their 
 acquaintance, but into a province which was then governed 
 by a liberal and humane man. 
 
 On the morning of Tuesday, June 30, having made our 
 farewell calls, purchased a tdrautds, and provided ourselves 
 with a padarozluiai/a, or order for horses, we left Tinmen 
 for Semipalatinsk by the regular Government post. The 
 Imperial Russian Post is now perhaps the most extensive 
 and perfectly organized horse-express service in the world. 
 From the southern end of the peninsula of Kamchatka to 
 the most remote village in Finland, from the frozen, wind- 
 swept shores of the arctic ocean to the hot, sandy deserts 
 of Central Asia, the whole empire is one vast network of 
 post routes. You may pack your portmanteau in Nizhni 
 Novgorod, get a padarozlmaya from the postal department, 
 and start for Petropavlovsk, Kamchatka, seven thousand 
 miles away, with the full assurance that throughout the 
 whole of that immense distance there will be horses, rein- 
 deer, or dogs ready and waiting to carry you on, night and 
 day, to your destination. It must, however, be borne in 
 mind that the Russian post route is a very different thing 
 from the old English post route, and that the Russian 
 horse express differs widely, not only from our own west- 
 ern " pony express," but from the horse expresses of most 
 other countries. The characteristic feature of the west 
 European and American systems is the stage-coach or dili- 
 gence, which leaves certain places at certain stated hours, 
 or, in other words, runs upon a prearranged time schedule. 
 It is precisely this feature that the Russian system does 
 not have. There are, generally speaking, no stage-coach 
 lines in Russia; the vehicles that carry the mails do not 
 carry passengers, and, away from the railroads, there is no 
 such thing as traveling upon a fixed time schedule. You 
 are never obliged, therefore, to wait for a public convey- 
 ance which leaves at a certain stated hour, and then go 
 through to your destination in that conveyance, stopping
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 123 
 
 when it stops aud starting when it starts, without regard 
 to your own health, comfort, or convenience. On the con- 
 trary, you may ride in your own sleigh or carriage, and 
 have it drawn by post horses. You may travel at the rate 
 of 175 miles in twenty-four hours, or twenty-four miles in 
 175 hours, just as you feel inclined. You may stop when 
 you like, where you like, and for as long a time as you like, 
 and when you are ready to move on you have only to 
 order out yom- horses and get 
 
 pen to be, nor ■:-^:.7~\i^^^"^'''''''/^' '-,■;, ^ to what part 
 you may wish our tXrantAs. to go. Send 
 
 your i^adarozlmaya to the nearest post station, and in twenty 
 minutes you will be riding away at the rate of ten miles an 
 hour, with your postal order in your pocket and a hundred 
 relays of fresh horses distributed at intervals along your 
 route. 
 
 The established rate of payment for transportation over 
 the post routes of Western Siberia seems to an American 
 absm-dly low. It amounts, including the compensation of 
 the driver, to li cent per mile for every horse, or 3f cents 
 per mile for the usual troika^ or team of three. In other 
 words, two persons can travel in their own carriage with a 
 team of three horses a distance of twenty miles for 68 cents, 
 or 34 cents each. I used to feel almost ashamed sometimes 
 to wake up a driver at a post station, in the middle of a 
 stormy night, compel him to harness three horses and drive 
 us twenty miles over a dark, miry, and perhaps dangerous 
 road, and then oifer him for this service the pitiful sum of 
 68 cents. Trifling and inadequate, however, as such compen- 
 sation may seem, it is large enough to tempt into this field 
 of enterprise hundreds of peasant farmers who compete 
 with the Government post by furnishing what are known as 
 volni or " free " horses, for the transportation of travelers
 
 124 SIBERIA 
 
 from one village to another. As these free horses are gen- 
 erally better fed and in better condition than the over- 
 driven animals at the post stations, it is often advantageous 
 to employ them; and your driver, as you approach a village, 
 will almost always turn around and inquire whether he shall 
 take you to the Government post station or to the house of 
 a " friend." Traveling with drusJiM, or " friends," costs no 
 more than traveling by post, and it enables one to see much 
 more of the domestic life of the Siberian peasants than one 
 could see by stopping and changing horses only at regular 
 post stations. 
 
 The first part of our journey from Tinmen to Omsk was 
 comparatively uneventful and uninteresting. The road ran 
 across a great marshy plain, full of swampy lakes, and cov- 
 ered with a scattered growth of willow and alder bushes, 
 small birch-trees, and scrubby firs and pines, which in every 
 direction limited the vision and hid the horizon line. All 
 this part of the province of Tobolsk seems to have been, 
 within a comparatively recent geological period, the bottom 
 of a great inland sea which united the Caspian and the Sea 
 of Aral with the arctic ocean, along the line of the shallow 
 depression through which now flow the rivers Irtish and Ob. 
 Everywhere between Tiumen and Omsk we saw evidences, 
 in the shape of sand-banks, salt-marshes, beds of clay, and 
 swampy lakes, to show that we were traveling over a partly 
 dried up sea bottom. 
 
 About a hundred versts from Tiumen, just beyond the 
 village of Zavodo-ukof skaya, we stopped for two hours early 
 in the evening at the residence and estate of a wealthy 
 Siberian manufacturer named Kolmakof, to whom I had a 
 letter of introduction from a Russian friend. I was sur- 
 prised to find in this remote part of the world so many 
 evidences of comfort, taste, and luxury as were to be seen in 
 and about Mr. Kolmakof 's house. The house itself was only 
 a two-story building of logs, but it was large and comfortably 
 furnished, and its windows looked out over an artificial lake,
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 125 
 
 and a beautiful garden, with winding walks, rustic arbors, 
 long lines of currant and raspberry bushes, and beds of 
 flowering plants. At one end of this garden was a spacious 
 conservatory, filled with geraniums, verbenas, hydrangeas, 
 cactuses, orange and lemon trees, pine-apples, and all sorts 
 of tropical and semi-tropical shrubs, and near at hand was a 
 large hot-house full of cucumbers and ripening cantaloupes. 
 In the middle of the garden stood a square building, sixty 
 feet long by forty or fifty feet wide, which was composed 
 almost entirely of glass, which had no floor except the earth, 
 and which served, Mr. Kolmakof said, as a sort of winter 
 garden and a place of recreation during cold or stormy 
 weather. In this miniature Crystal Palace stood a perfect 
 grove of bananas and young palms, through which ran wind- 
 ing walks bordered by beds of flowers, with here and there 
 amidst the greenery a comfortable lounging-place or rustic 
 seat. The trees, flowers, and shrubs were not planted in 
 tubs or pots, but grew directly out of the earthen floor of 
 the greenhouse, so that the effect was almost precisely that 
 of a semi-tropical garden enclosed in glass. 
 
 " Who would have thought," said Mr. Frost, as he threw 
 himself into one of the rustic seats beside a bed of blossom- 
 ing verbenas, " that we should come to Siberia to sit under 
 palm-trees and in the shade of bananas f " 
 
 After a walk through the spacious wooded park which ad- 
 joined the garden, we returned to the house, and were 
 served with a lunch or cold supper consisting of caviar, 
 pickled mushrooms, salmon, cold boiled fowl, white bread, 
 sweet cakes, and wild strawberries, with vodka, two or three 
 kinds of wine, and tea. 
 
 It had grown quite dark when, about eleven o'clock, the 
 horses that we had ordered in the neighboring village 
 arrived, and, bidding our courteous host good-by, we climbed 
 into the tdrantds and set out for a long, dark, and dreary 
 night's ride. The road, which had never been good, was in 
 worse condition than usual, owing to recent and heavy rains.
 
 126 SIBERIA 
 
 Our (.Iriver urged four powerful horses over it at break-neck 
 speed, and we were so jounced, jolted, and shaken that it 
 was utterly impossible to get any sleep, and difficult enough 
 merely to keep our seats in the vehicle. Early in the morn- 
 ing, sleepy, jaded, and exhausted, we reached the village of 
 Novo Zaimskaya, entered the little log-house of our driver's 
 "friend," threw ourselves on the bare floor, where half a 
 dozen members of the friend's family were already lying, 
 and for two or three hours lost consciousness of our aching 
 spinal columns in the heavy, dreamless slumber of physical 
 exhaustion. 
 
 Throughout the next day and the following night we trav- 
 eled, without rest, and of course without sleep, over a terri- 
 bly bad steppe road, and at six o'clock Thursday morning 
 arrived in a pelting rain-storm at the circuit town of Ishim. 
 No one who has not experienced it can fully realize the 
 actual physical suffering that is involved in posting night 
 and day at high speed over bad Siberian roads. We made 
 the 200 miles between Tinmen and Ishim in about thirty- 
 five hours of actual travel, with only four hours of sleep, and 
 were so jolted and shaken that every bone in our bodies 
 ached, and it was with difficulty that we could climb into 
 and out of our mud-bespattered tdrantds at the post stations. 
 
 It had been our intention to make a short stop at Ishim, 
 but the bad weather discouraged us, and, after drinking tea 
 at a peasant's house on the bank of the Ishim River, we re- 
 sumed our journey. As we rode out of the town through a 
 thin forest of birch-trees, we began to notice large numbers 
 of men, women, and children plodding along on foot through 
 the mud in the same direction that we were going. Most of 
 them were common muzhiks with trousers inside their boots 
 and shirt-flaps outside their trousers, or sunburned peasant 
 women in red and.blue gowns,with white kerchiefs over their 
 heads ; but there were also a few pedestrians in the conven- 
 tional dress of the civilized world, who manifestly belonged 
 to the higher classes, and who even carried umbrellas.
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 127 
 
 About four miles from tbe town we saw ahead a great 
 crowd of men and women marching towards us in a dense, 
 tumultuous throng, carrying big three-armed crosses, white 
 and colored banners, and huge glass lanterns mounted on 
 long black staves. 
 
 " What is that ? " I inquired of the driver. 
 
 " The Mother of God is coming home," he replied, with 
 reverent gravity. 
 
 As they came nearer I could see that the throng was 
 densest in the middle of the muddy road, under what seemed 
 to be a large gilt-framed picture which was borne high in 
 air at the end of a long, stout wooden pole. The lower end 
 of this pole rested in a socket in the middle of a square 
 framework which had handles on all four sides, and which 
 was carried by six bareheaded peasants. The massive frame 
 of the portrait was made either of gold or of silver gilt, 
 since it was manifestly very heavy, and half a dozen men 
 steadied, by means of guy ropes, the standard which sup- 
 ported it, as the bearers, with their faces bathed in perspir- 
 ation, staggered along under their burden. In front of the 
 picture marched a bareheaded, long-haired priest with a 
 book in his hands, and on each side were four or five black- 
 robed deacons and acolytes, carrying embroidered silken 
 banners, large three-armed gilt crosses, and peculiar church 
 lanterns, which looked like portable street gas-posts with 
 candles burning in them. The priest, the deacons, and all 
 the bareheaded men around the picture were singing in 
 unison a deep, hoarse, monotonous chant as they splashed 
 along through the mud, and the hundreds of men and women 
 who surged around the standard that supported the portrait 
 were constantly crossing themselves, and joining at intervals 
 in the chanted psalm or prayer. Scores of peasant women 
 had taken off their shoes and stockings and slung them 
 over their shoulders, and were wading with bare feet and 
 legs through the black, semi-liquid mire, and neither men 
 nor women seemed to pay the slightest attention to the rain,
 
 128 SIBERIA 
 
 which beat iipou their unprotected heads and trickled in 
 little rivulets down their hard, sunburned faces. The crowd 
 numbered, I should think, four or five hundred persons, 
 more than half of whom were women, and as it approached 
 the town it was constantly receiving accessions from the 
 g-roups of pedestrians that we had overtaken and passed. 
 
 Since entering Siberia I had not seen such a strange and 
 medieval picture as that presented by the black-robed priest 
 and acolytes, the embroidered banners, the lighted lan- 
 terns, the gilded crosses, and the great throng of bare- 
 headed and bare-legged peasants, tramping along the black, 
 muddy road through the forest in the driving rain, singing 
 a, solemn ecclesiastical chant. I could almost imagine that 
 we had been carried back to the eleventh century and were 
 witnessing the passage of a detachment of Christian vil- 
 lagers who had been stirred up and excited by the elo- 
 quence of Peter the Hermit, and were marching with 
 crosses, banners, and chanting to join the great host of 
 the crusaders. 
 
 When the last stragglers in the rear of the procession had 
 passed, and the hoarse, monotonous chant had died away 
 in the distance, I turned to Mr. Frost and said, "What do 
 you suppose is the meaning of all that ? " 
 
 "1 have n't the least idea," he replied. "It is evidently a 
 church procession, but what it has been doing out here in 
 the woods I can't imagine." 
 
 By dint of persistent questioning I finally succeeded in 
 eliciting from our driver an intelligible explanation of the 
 phenomenon. There was, it appeared, in one of the churches 
 of Ishim, a very old ikon, or portrait of " the Mother of 
 Grod," which was reputed to have supernatural powers and 
 to answer the prayers of faithful believers. In order that 
 the country people who were unable to come to Ishim 
 might have an opportunity to pray to this miracle-working 
 image, and to share in the blessings supposed to be con- 
 ferred by its mere presence, it was carried once a year.
 
 FIKST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 
 
 129 
 
 ■ /"■fftir'iivii'.^' ' ''"W^^ 
 
 4) 
 
 
 RETUKN OF THE MIKACLK-WORKING IK6n.
 
 130 SIBERIA 
 
 or once in two years, through all the principal villages of 
 the Isliini dknif/, or district. Special services in its honor 
 were held in the village churches, and hundreds of pea!>ants 
 accompanied it as it was borne with solemn pomp and cere- 
 mony from place to place. It had been on such a tour 
 when we saw it, and was on its way back to the church in 
 Ishim, where it belonged, and our driver had stated the 
 fact in the simplest and most direct way when he said, 
 " The Mother of God is coming home." 
 
 Rain fell at intervals throughout the day Thursday, but 
 we pushed on over a muddy steppe road in the direction of 
 Tiukalinsk, changing horses at the post stations of Borof- 
 skaya, Tushnalobova', Abatskaya, and Kamishenka, and 
 stopping for the night at a peasant's house in the village 
 of Orlova. In the sixty hours which had elapsed since our 
 departure from Tinmen we had traveled 280 miles, with 
 only four hours of sleep, and we were so much exhausted 
 that we could not go any farther without rest. The weather 
 during the night finally cleared up, and when we resumed 
 our journey on the following morning the sun was shining 
 brightly in an almost unclouded sky, and the air was fresh, 
 invigorating, and filled with fragrant odors. 
 
 Although the road continued bad, the country as we 
 proceeded southward and eastward steadily improved in 
 appearance, and before noon we were riding across a beau- 
 tiful, fertile, and partly cultivated prairie, which extended 
 in every direction as far as the eye could reach, with nothing 
 to break the horizon line except an occasional clump of 
 small birch- trees or a dark-green thicket of willow and alder 
 bushes. The steppe was bright with flowers, and here and 
 there appeared extensive tracts of black, newly plowed 
 land, or vast fields of waving grain, which showed that the 
 country was inhabited; but there was not a fence, nor a 
 barn, nor a house to be seen in any direction, and I could 
 not help wondering where the village was to which these 
 cultivated fields belonged. My curiosity was soon to be sat-
 
 FIKST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TllAVEL 131 
 
 isfied. Ill a few moments our driver gathered up bis muddy 
 rope reius, braeed himself securely in his seat, threw out 
 behind and above his head the long, heavy lash of his short- 
 handled Ixnut^ and bringing it down with stinging force 
 across the backs of his four horses shouted, in a high fal- 
 setto and a deep bass, "Heekh-ya-a-a!" The whole team 
 instantly broke into a frantic, tearing gallop, which made 
 me involuntarily hold my breath, until it was suddenly 
 jounced out of me by a terrific jolt as the tdrantds, going 
 at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, dropped into a deep 
 rut and rebounded with tremendous force, throwing me 
 violently out of my seat, and making my head and back 
 throb with the shock of the unexpected concussion. I 
 needed no further evidence that we were approaching a 
 village. A Siberian team never fully shows what it can 
 do until it is within half a mile of its destination, and then 
 it suddenly becomes a living toniado of energy. I shouted 
 to the driver, " Pastoi ! Tishei ! " [Hold on ! Don't go so 
 fast !] but it was of no use. Both driver and horses knew 
 that this was the final spurt, and exerted themselves to the 
 utmost, the horses laying back their ears and tearing ahead 
 as if pursued by a prairie fire, while the driver lashed them 
 fiercely with his heavy knut to an accompaniment of shrill, 
 wild cries, whoops, whistles, and shouts of "Ya-a-a-va!" 
 "Ay durak ! " " Noo-oo-oo ! " (with a falling inflection) " Heekh- 
 ya-a-a!" All that we could do was to shut our eyes, trust 
 in Providence, and hold on. The tdrantds was pelted with 
 a perfect storm of mud from the flying hoofs of four gal- 
 loping horses, and if, putting out my head, I opened my 
 mouth to expostulate with the driver, I ran great risk of 
 having it effectually closed by a teacupful of tenacious 
 black mire, thrown like a semi-liquid ball from the cata- 
 pult of a horse's hoof. In a moment we saw, barring the 
 way ahead, a long wattled fence extending for a mile or 
 more to the right and left, with a narrow gate at the point 
 where it intersected the road. It was the fence which
 
 132 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 iut'losed the pasture giouud of the village that we were 
 approaching. As we dashed, with a wild whoop from our 
 driver, through the opeu gateway, we uoticed beside it a 
 
 HUTS OF VILLAGE GATE KEEPERS. 
 
 curious half-underground hut, roofed partly with bushes 
 and partly with sods, out of which, as we passed, came the 
 village gate-keeper — a dirty, forlorn-looking old man with 
 inflamed eyes and a long white beard, who reminded me 
 of Rip Van Winkle after his twenty years' sleep. While
 
 FIKST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 133 
 
 he was in the act of bowing and touching the weather- 
 beaten remains of what was once a hat, we whirled past 
 and lost sight of him, with a feeling of regret that we could 
 not stop and take a photograph of such a wild, neglected 
 picturesque embodiment of poverty and wretchedness 
 clothed in rags. Just inside the gate stood an unpainted 
 sign-post, upon the board of which had been neatly in- 
 scribed in black letters the words 
 
 Village of Krutaya. 
 Distance from St. Petersburg, 2992 versts. 
 Distance from Moscow, 2526 versts. 
 Houses, 42. Male souls, 97. 
 
 Between the gate and the village there was a grassy 
 common about half a mile wide, upon which were gi*azing 
 hundreds of cattle and sheep. Here and there stood a 
 huge, picturesque windmill, consisting of a small gable- 
 roofed house with four enormous wind- vanes mounted on 
 a pivot at the apex of a pyramid of cross-piled logs. Be- 
 yond the windmills appeared the village, a small collection 
 of gray, weather-beaten log-houses, some with roofs of 
 boards, some with a roofing of ragged birch-bark held in 
 place by tightly lashed poles, some thatched with straw, 
 and some the flat roofs of which had been overlaid with 
 black earth from the steppe and supported a thrifty steppe 
 flora of weeds, buttercups, and wild mustard. Through 
 this cluster of gray log-houses ran one central street, which 
 had neither walks nor gutters, and which, from side to side 
 and from end to end, was a shallow lake of black, liquid 
 mud. Into this wide street we dashed at a tearing gallop ; 
 and the splattering of the horses' hoofs in the mud, the 
 rumble of the tdrantds, and the wild cries of our driver 
 brought the whole population to the windows to see whether 
 it was the governor-general or a special courier of the Tsar 
 who came at such a furious pace into the quiet settle- 
 ment. Presently our driver pulled up his reeking, panting 
 horses before the court-yard gate of one of his friends and
 
 134 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 shouted, " Davai losliedei ! " [Bring out the horses ! ] Then 
 from all parts of the village came, splashing and " tlilup- 
 ping" througli the mud, idlers .-md old \uvn to see who had 
 
 A \ ILl.AGE UATli KtKl'lii; 
 
 arrived and to watch the changing of teams. Strange, 
 picturesque figures the old men were, with their wrinkled 
 faces, matted, neglected hair, and long, stringy, gray beards. 
 Some were bareheaded, some barefooted, some wore tat- 
 tered sheepskin shuhas and top-boots, and some had on
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 135 
 
 loug-tailed butternut coats, girt about tlie waist with straps 
 or dirty colored sashes. While they assembled m a group 
 around the tdrantds, our driver climbed down from his high 
 seat and began to unharness his horses. The owner of the 
 house in front of which w^e had stopped soon made his 
 appearance, and inquired whether we wished to drink tea 
 or to go on at once. I replied that we desired to go on at 
 once. "Andre!" he shouted to one of his sons, "ride to 
 the pasture and drive in the horses." Andre sprang on a 
 barebacked horse which another boy brought out of the 
 court-yard and galloped away to the village common. In 
 the mean time the assembled crowd of idlers watched our 
 movements, commented upon our "new-fashioned" tdran- 
 tds, and tried to ascertain from our driver who we were 
 and where were going. Failing to get from that source 
 any precise information, one of them, a bareheaded, gray- 
 haired old man, said to me, "Barin! Permit us to ask — 
 where is Grod taking you to!" I replied that we were going 
 to Omsk and Semipalatinsk. "A-a-ah!" murmured the 
 crowd with gratified curiosity. 
 
 " Where do you condescend to come from ? " inquired the 
 old man, pursuing the investigation. 
 
 " From America," I replied. 
 
 " A-a-ah ! " breathed the crowd again. 
 
 " Is that a Russian town ? " persisted the old man. 
 
 " America is n't a town," shouted a bright-faced boy on 
 the outskirts of the crowd. " It 's a country. All the world," 
 he continued mechanically, as if reciting from a school-book, 
 " is divided into five parts, Europe, Asia, Africa, America, 
 and Australia. Russia occupies two-thirds of Europe and 
 one-half of Asia." Beyond this even the school-boy's geo- 
 graphical knowledge did not extend, and it was evident that 
 none of the old inhabitants of the village had even so much 
 as heard of America. A young man, however, who had hap- 
 pened to be in Omsk when the bodies of the dead members 
 of the Jeannette arctic expedition were carried through that
 
 13G SIBERIA 
 
 city, undertook to enlighten the crowd upon the subject of 
 the Americans, who, he said, " were the wisest people that 
 God had ever created, and the only people that had ever 
 sailed into the great Icy Sea." One of the old inhabitants 
 contended that Kussian navigators had also penetrated the 
 Icy Sea, and that althongh they might not be so " wise " as 
 the Americans, they were quite as good sailors in icy waters. 
 This gave rise to an animated discussion of polar exploration, 
 in the midst of which the young fellow who had been sent 
 after the horses came back with whistle and whoop, driving 
 the animals before him into the court-yard, where they were 
 soon harnessed, and were then brought out and fastened 
 with long rope traces to the tdrantds. Our new driver 
 mounted the box, inquired whether we were ready, and 
 gathering up his rope reins shouted "Noo-oo!" to his horses; 
 and with a measured jangle of bells from the arch over the 
 thill-horse's back, and a " splash-spatter-splash " of hoofs in 
 the mud, we rolled out of the settlement. 
 
 Such, with trifling variations in detail, was the regular 
 routine of arrival and departure in all of the steppe vil- 
 lages where we changed horses between Tinmen and Omsk. 
 The greater number of these villages were dreary, forlorn- 
 looking places, containing neither yards, walks, trees, grass- 
 plots, nor shrubbery, and presenting to the eye nothing but 
 two parallel lines of gray, dilapidated log-houses and tumble- 
 down court-yard walls rising directly out of the long pool 
 of jet-black mud that formed the solitary street. 
 
 It is with a feeling of intense pleasure and relief that one 
 leaves such a village and rides out upon the wide, clean, 
 breezy steppe where the air is filled \vith the fragrance of 
 clover and the singing of birds, and where the eye is con- 
 stantly delighted ^vith great sweeps of smooth, velvety turf, 
 or vast undulating expanses of high steppe grass sprinkled 
 in the foreground with millions of wild roses, white mar- 
 guerites, delicate five-angled harebells, and dark-red tiger- 
 lilies. Between the village of Krutaya and Kalmakova, on
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 
 
 137 
 
 Friday, we rode across a steppe that was literally a great 
 ocean of flowers. One could pick twenty different species 
 and a hundred specimens within the area of a single square 
 yard. Here and there we deserted the miry road and drove 
 for miles across the smooth, grassy plain, crushing flowers 
 by the score at every revolution of our carriage-wheels. In 
 the middle of the steppe I had our driver stop and wait for 
 me while I alighted and walked away into the flowery soli- 
 tude to enjoy the stillness, the perfumed air, and the sea of 
 verdure through which ran the long, sinuous black line 
 
 A STEPPE VILLAGE. 
 
 of the muddy highway. On my left, beyond the road, was 
 a wide, shallow depression six or eight miles across, rising 
 on the opposite side in a long, gradual sweep to a dark blue 
 line of birch forest which formed the horizon. This depres- 
 sion was one smooth expanse of close, green turf dotted with 
 grazing cattle and sheep, and broken here and there by a 
 silvery pool or lake. Around me, upon the higher ground, 
 the steppe was carpeted with flowers, among which I noticed 
 splendid orange asters two inches in diameter, spotted tiger- 
 lilies with strongly reflexed petals, white clover, daisies, 
 harebells, spirea, astragalus, melilotus, and a peculiar flower 
 growing in long, slender, curved spikes which suggested
 
 138 SIBERIA 
 
 tliuhts iA' miniature canniiu^ sky-rockets sent up by the 
 fairies of the steppe. The air was still and warm, and had 
 a strange, sweet f rag-ranee which I can liken only to the 
 taste of wild lioney. There were no sounds to break the 
 stillness of the great plain except the drowsy hum of bees, 
 the regular measured "Kate-did-Kate-did" of a few katydids 
 in the grass near me, and the wailing cry of a steppe hawk 
 hovering over the nest of some field-mice. It was a delight 
 simply to lie on the grass amidst the flowers and see, hear, 
 and breathe. 
 
 We traveled all day Friday over flowery steppes and 
 through little log villages like those that I have tried to 
 describe, stopping occasionally to make a sketch, collect 
 flowers, or talk with the peasants about the exile system. 
 Now and then we met a solitary traveler in a muddy tdr- 
 antds on his way to Tinmen, or passed a troop of exiles in 
 gray overcoats plodding along through the mud, surrounded 
 by a cordon of soldiers; but as we were off the great 
 through line of travel, we saw few vehicles except the tel- 
 egas of peasants going back and forth between the villages 
 and the outlying fields. 
 
 The part of the province of Tobolsk through which we 
 traveled from Tinmen to Omsk is much more productive 
 and prosperous than a careless observer would suppose it to 
 be from the appearance of most of its villages. The four 
 okrugs, or "circles," ^ of Tinmen, Yaliitorfsk, Ishim, and 
 Tiukalinsk, through which our road lay, have an aggregate 
 population of 650,000 and contain about 4,000,000 acres of 
 
 1 An okrug, or circle, bears some- Mississippi were one State, and each 
 
 thing like the same relation to a prov- of the existing States were a county, 
 
 inee that an American county does to such State and counties would bear to 
 
 a state, except that it is proportion- each other and to the United States 
 
 ately much larger. The province of something like the same relation which 
 
 Tobolsk, with an area of 590,000 square the province and olrmjs of Tobolsk 
 
 miles, has only ten okrugs, so that tbe bear to each other and to Siberia. The 
 
 average area of these subdivisions is highest administrative officer in a Si- 
 
 about that of the State of Michigan, berian province is the governor, who 
 
 If all of the territory north of the Ohio is represented in every okrug by an 
 
 River and the Potomac and east of the isprdvnik.
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF POST TRAVEL 139 
 
 cultivated land. The peasants in these circles own 1,500,000 
 head of live stock, and produce perhaps two-thirds of the 
 80,000,000 bushels of grain raised annually in the province. 
 There are held every year in the four circles 220 town and 
 village fairs or local markets, to which the peasants bring 
 great quantities of products for sale. The transactions of 
 •these fairs in the circle of Yalutorfsk, for example, amount 
 annually to $2,000,000 ; in the circle of Ishim to $3,500,000 ; 
 and in the whole province to about $14,000,000. From 
 these statistics, and from such inquiries and observations 
 as we were able to make along the road, it seemed to me 
 that if the province of Tobolsk were honestly and intelli- 
 gently governed, and were freed from the heavy burden 
 of criminal exile, it would in a comparatively short time 
 become one of the most prosperous and flourishing parts 
 of the empire. 
 
 We drank tea Friday afternoon at the circuit town of 
 Tiukalinsk, and after a short rest resumed our journey 
 with four "free" horses. The road was still muddy and 
 bad, and as we skirted the edge of the great marshy steppe 
 of Baraba between Tiukalinsk and Bekisheva, we were so 
 tormented by huge gray mosquitos that we were obliged 
 to put on thick gloves, cover our heads with calico hoods 
 and horse-hair netting, and defend ourselves constantly 
 with leafy branches. Between the mosquitos and the 
 jolting we had another hard, sleepless night; but fortu- 
 nately it was the last one, and at half -past ten o'clock on 
 the morning of Saturday, July 4th, our fdrantds rolled into 
 the streets of Omsk. Both we and our vehicle were so 
 spattered and plastered with black steppe mud that no 
 one who had seen us set out from Tinmen would have 
 recognized us. We had been four days and nights on 
 the road, and had made in that time a journey of 420 
 miles, with only eleven hours of sleep.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE GliEAT KIEGHIS STEPPE 
 
 OMSK, which is a city of about 30,000 inhabitants, is 
 the capital of the ohlast of Akmolinsk, and the seat of 
 government of the steppe territories/ It is an administra- 
 tive rather than a commercial or a manufacturing town, 
 and its population is largely composed of officials and clerks 
 employed in the various Government bureaus and depart- 
 ments. It has a few noticeable public buildings, among 
 which are the enormous white "cadet school," the house 
 of the governor-general, the police station, — a rather pic- 
 turesque log building, surmounted by a fire-alarm tower, — 
 and the krepast, or fortress. The streets of the city are 
 wide and unpaved ; the dwelling-houses are made generally 
 of logs ; there is the usual number of white- walled churches 
 and cathedrals with green, blue, or golden domes; and 
 every building that would attract a traveler's attention 
 belongs to the Government. If I were asked to charac- 
 terize Omsk in a few words, I should describe it as a city 
 of 30,000 inhabitants, in which the largest building is a 
 military academy and the most picturesque building a 
 police station ; in which there is neither a newspaper nor 
 a public library, and in which one-half the population wears 
 
 1 The larger administrative divi- denote the organized political division 
 
 sions of the Eussian empire are of called in Russia a guhernia, and " terri- 
 
 two kinds and are known as gubernie tory" to designate the comparatively 
 
 [governments] and oblastl [territories], unorganized division known as an ob- 
 
 As the English word "government" last. The distinction between them is 
 
 already has more than one meaning, I very much like that between our states 
 
 shall use "province" in this work to and territories.
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 141 
 
 the Tsar's uniform and makes a business of governing the 
 other half. The nature of the relations between the latter 
 half and the former may be inferred from the fact that an 
 intelligent and reputable citizen of this chinovnik-domi- 
 nated city, who had been kind and useful to us, said to 
 me, when he bade me good-by, "Mr. Kennan, if you find 
 
 POLICE STATION AND FIUE TOWEK IN OMSK. 
 
 it necessary to speak of me by name in your book, please 
 don't speak of me favorably." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, why not f " I inquired. 
 
 " Because," he replied, " I don't think your book will be 
 altogether pleasing to the Grovernment ; and if I am men- 
 tioned favorably in it, I shall be harried by the officials 
 here more than I am now. My request may seem to you 
 absurd, but it is the only favor I have to ask." ^ 
 
 1 This was said to me upon our re- an account which I had given to Mr. 
 turn from Eastern Siberia in the fol- X of our experience and the re- 
 lowing winter, and was callfed out by suits of our observations. I should
 
 142 SIBERIA 
 
 We found in Omsk very little that was either interesting 
 (.)!• instnu'tive. The city was the place of exile of a well- 
 known and talented Russian author named Petropavlovski, 
 but as we were not aware of the fact we missed an oppor- 
 tunity to make the acquaintance of a man whose w^ide and 
 thorough knowledge of Russian life, as well as of the exile 
 system, might have been in the highest degree useful to us.^ 
 The only letter of introduction that I had to deliver in 
 Omsk was a brief note from the editor of a newspaper in 
 St. Petersburg to Colonel Paivtsof, president of the West 
 Siberian branch of the Imperial Geographical Society. 
 The latter received me very cordially, gave me some useful 
 information with regard to the comparative merits of differ- 
 ent routes from Semipalatinsk to Tomsk, and went with me 
 to see the little museum connected w^ith the Geographical 
 Society, which, apparently, was the only evidence of culture 
 that the city afforded. Mr. Frost, meanwhile, made explo- 
 rations in the neighborhood ; discovered and sketched a 
 wretched suburb north of the river Om, which seemed to 
 be inhabited chiefly by poor, common criminal exiles, and 
 made the drawing of the police station that is reproduced 
 on page 141. I tried to find the ostrofj" where the gifted 
 Russian novelist Dostoyefski spent so many years of penal 
 servitude and where, according to the testimony of his 
 
 be glad to give some illustrations of as one of the results of a bad system 
 
 the "harrying" to which Mr. X of government. I do not know for what 
 
 referred, if I could do so without dis- specific reason he was banished to Si- 
 closing his identity. beria, but I presume that his writings 
 1 Mr. Petropdvlovski has written a were regarded by the censor as " per- 
 great deal for the Atechestceiiia Zapiski nicious in tendency." 
 and other Russian magazines under the 2 The word ostroy meant originally 
 pen-name of " Karonin," and a vohirae a stockaded entrenchment and was 
 of his collected stories was published in applied to the rude forts built by the 
 Moscow in 1890. His field as a writer Cossacks as they marched eastward 
 is the Russian village and the every- into Siberia three centuries ago. The 
 day life of the Russian peasant, and he custom of confining criminals in these 
 has shown in that field not only great forts finally gave to ostrog the meaning 
 accuracy of observation and faithful- of "prison," and up to the present 
 ness of portrayal, but a sympathetic century nearly all of the prisons in 
 comprehension of all the sufferings that Siberia were known as oxtrogs. 
 the common people are forced to endure
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 143 
 
 but I was told that 
 
 fellow prisoners, he was twice flogged 
 it had long before been torn down. 
 
 I did not wonder that the Government should 
 
 have 
 
 '^«i--.N>* 
 
 THE EXILE SUBURB — OMSK. 
 
 wished to tear down walls that had witnessed such scenes 
 of misery and cruelty as those described in Dostoyefski's 
 
 1 A touching account of this part of 
 Dostoyefski's life, by a convict named 
 Rozhnofski who occupied the same cell 
 with him in the Omsk os<;'ory,has recently 
 been published in the Tiflis newspaper 
 Kavkdz. Rozhnofski says that Dos- 
 toyefski was flogged the first time for 
 making complaint, in behalf of the 
 other prisoners, of a lump of filth found 
 in their soup. His second punishment 
 was for saving a fellow-prisoner from 
 drowning when the major in command 
 of the OHtroy had ordered him not to do 
 so. The flogging in each ease was so 
 
 brutally severe that the sufferer had to 
 be taken to the hospital, and after the 
 second "execution," Rozhnofski says, 
 the convicts generally regarded Dos- 
 toy^fski as dead. When he reappeared 
 among them, after lying six weeks in 
 the hospital, they gave him the nick- 
 name pokoinik [the deceased]. For fur- 
 ther particulars of Dostoyefski's trial, 
 condemnation, and life in penal servi- 
 tude see Atrehestvenia Zapiski [Annals 
 of the Fatherland], Feb. 1881, and 
 March, 1882.
 
 144 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 " Xotes from a House of the Dead." Tliere was one other 
 buililiiig ill Omsk that we desired to inspoet, namely, the 
 prison that had taken the place of the old ostrofj ; but we 
 were treated with such contemptuous diseoui'tesy by the 
 governor of the territory when we called upon him and asked 
 
 A KIKGUIS ENCAMPMENT. 
 
 permission to examine it, that we could only retire with- 
 out even having taken seats in his High Excellency's office. 
 On Wednesday, July 8th, having fully recovered from 
 the fatigue of our journey from Tinmen, we left Omsk with 
 three post horses and a Cossack driver for Semipalatinsk. 
 The road between the two cities runs everywhere along 
 the right bank of the Irtish through a line of log villages 
 which do not differ essentially in appearance from those 
 north of Omsk, but which are inhabited almost exclusively 
 by Cossacks. Whenever the Russian Government desires
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 145 
 
 to strengthen a weak frontier line so as to prevent the in- 
 cursions of hostile or predatory natives, it forcibly colonizes 
 along that line a few himdi'ed or a few thousand families of 
 armed Cossacks. During the last century it formed in this 
 way the "armed line of the Terek," to protect southeastern 
 Russia from the raids of the Caucasian mountaineers, and 
 a similar armed line along the Irtish, to hold in check the 
 Kirghis. The danger that was apprehended from these 
 half -wild tribes long ago passed away, but the descendants 
 of the Cossack colonists still remain in the places to which 
 their parents or their grandparents were transported. They 
 have all the hardy virtues of pioneers and frontiersmen, are 
 ingenious, versatile, and full of resources, and adapt them- 
 selves quickly to almost any en\ironment. There are thirty 
 or forty settlements of such Cossacks along the line of the 
 Irtish between Omsk and Semipalatinsk, and as many more 
 between Semipalatinsk and the Altai. 
 
 Almost immediately after leaving Omsk we noticed a 
 great change in the appearance of the country. The steppe, 
 which in the province of Tobolsk had been covered either 
 with fresh green grass or with a carpet of flowers, here be- 
 came more bare and arid, and its vegetation was evidently 
 withering and drying up under the fierce heat of the mid- 
 summer sun. Flowers were still abundant in low places 
 along the river, and we crossed now and then wide areas of 
 grass that was still green, but the prevailing color of the 
 high steppe was a sort of old-gold — a color like that of ripe 
 wheat. The clumps of white-stemmed birch trees, that 
 had diversified and given a park-like character to the 
 scenery north of Omsk, became less and less frequent; 
 cultivated fields disappeared altogether, and the steppe as- 
 sumed more and more the aspect of a Central Asiatic desert. 
 
 A few stations beyond Omsk, we saw and visited for the 
 
 first time an aiil [encampment] of the wandering Kirghis, 
 
 a pastoral tribe of natives who roam with their flocks and 
 
 herds over the plains of southwestern Siberia from the 
 
 10
 
 141) SIBERIA 
 
 I'aspiaii Sea to the moimtains of the Altai, and who make 
 up more than three-fourths of the population of the steppe 
 territories. The aiil consisted of only three or four small 
 kihithhs; or eireular tents of gray felt, pitched close together 
 at a distance from the road in the midst of the great ocean- 
 like expanse of di*y, yellowish grass which stretched away 
 in every direction to the horizon. There was no path lead- 
 ing to or from the encampment, and the little gray tents, 
 standing alone on that boundless plain, seemed to be almost 
 as much isolated, and as far removed from all civilized 
 human interests, as if they were so many frail skin cora- 
 cles floating in the watery solitude of the Pacific. 
 
 It was evident from the commotion caused by our ap- 
 proach that the encampment had not often been visited. 
 The swarthy, half-naked children, who had been playing out 
 on the grass, fled in affright to the shelter of the tents as 
 they saw our tdrantds coming towards them across the 
 steppe ; women rushed out to take a startled look at us and 
 then disappeared; and even the men, who gathered in a 
 group to meet us, appeared to be surprised and a little 
 alarmed by our visit. A few words in Klrghis, however, 
 from our Cossack driver reassured them, and upon the invi- 
 tation of an old man in a red-and-yellow skull-cap, who 
 seemed, to be the patriarch of the band, we entered one of 
 the kibithas. It was a circular tent about fifteen feet in 
 diameter and eight feet high, made by covering a dome- 
 shaped framework of smoke-blackened poles with large 
 overlapping sheets of heavy gray felt. The slightly curved 
 rafters which formed the roof radiated like the spokes of a 
 wheel from a large wooden ring in the center of the dome, 
 and were supported around the circumference of the tent by 
 a skeleton wall of wooden lattice-work in which there was 
 a hinged door. The ring in the center of the dome outlined 
 the aperture left for the escape of smoke and the admission 
 of air, and directly under this aperture a fire was smolder- 
 ing on the ground inside a circle of flat stones, upon which
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 147 
 
 INTERIOR OF A KIRGHIS KIUfTKA.
 
 148 SIBEllIA 
 
 stood a few pots, kettles, and other domestic utensils. The 
 furniture of the tent was very scanty, and consisted of a 
 narrow, unpainted bedstead opposite the door, two or three 
 cheap Russian trunks of wood painted blue and decorated 
 witli strips of tin, and a table about four feet in diameter 
 and eight inches high, intended evidently to be used by 
 persons who habitually squatted on the ground. Upon the 
 table were a few dirty wooden bowls and spoons and an 
 antique metal pitcher, while here and there, hanging against 
 the lattice wall, were buckets of birch bark, a harness or 
 two, a flint-lock rifle, a red-white-and-golden saddle of wood 
 with silver-inlaid stirrups, and a pair of carpet saddle-bags. 
 The fii'st duty that hospitality requires of a Kirghis host 
 is the presentation of kumis to his guests, and we had no 
 sooner taken seats on a sheet of gray felt beside the fire 
 than one of the women went to the kumis churn, — a large, 
 black, greasy bag of horse-hide hanging against the lattice 
 wall, — worked a wooden churn-dasher up and down in it 
 vigorously for a moment, and then poured out of it into a 
 greasy wooden bowl fully a quart of the great national Kir- 
 ghis beverage for me. It did not taste as much like sour 
 milk and soda-water as I expected that it would. On the 
 contrary, it had rather a pleasant flavor ; and if it had been 
 a little cleaner and cooler, it would have made an agreeable 
 and refreshing drink. I tried to please the old Kirghis pa- 
 triarcli and to show my appreciation of Kirghis hospitality 
 by drinking the whole bowlful ; but I underestimated the 
 quantity of kumis that it is necessary to imbibe in order to 
 show one's host that one does n't dislike it and that one is 
 satisfied with one's entertainment. I had no sooner finished 
 one quart bowlful than the old patriarch brought me another; 
 and when I told him that a single quart was all that I per- 
 mitted myself to take at one time, and suggested that he 
 reserve the second bowlful for my comrade, Mr. Frost, he 
 looked so pained and grieved that in order to restore his 
 serenity I had to go to the tdranfds, get my banjo, and sing
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 149 
 
 " There is a Tavern in the Town." Mr. Frost, meanwhile, 
 had shirked his duty and his Mmis by pretending that he 
 could not drink and draw simultaneously, and that he 
 wanted to make a likeness of the patriarch's six-year-old 
 sou. This seemed to be a very adroit scheme on Mr. Frost's 
 part, but it did not work as well as he had expected. No 
 sooner had he begun to make the sketch than the boy's 
 mother, taking alarm at the peculiar, searching way in which 
 the artist looked at his subject, and imagining perhaps that 
 her offspring was being mesmerized, paralyzed, or bewitched, 
 swooped down upon the ragged little urchin, and kissing 
 him passionately, as if she had almost lost him forever, 
 carried him away and hid him. This imtoward incident 
 cast such a gloom over the subsequent proceedings that 
 after singing four verses of " Solomon Levi," in a vain 
 attempt to restore public confidence in Mr. Frost, I put away 
 my banjo and we took our departure. I should like to know 
 what traditions are now current in that part of the Kirghis 
 steppe with regard to the two plausible but designing gia- 
 ours who went about visiting the aiils of the faithful, one 
 of them singing unholy songs to the accompaniment of a 
 strange stringed instrument, while the other cast an " evil 
 eye " upon the children, and tried to get possession of their 
 souls by making likenesses of their bodies. 
 
 Day after day we traveled swiftly southward over a good 
 road through the great Kirghis steppe, stopping now and 
 then to pick snowy pond-lilies in some reed-fringed pool, or 
 to visit an aiil and drink kumis with the hospitable nomads 
 in their gray felt tents. Sometimes the road ran down 
 into the shallow valley of the Irtish, through undulating 
 seas of goldenrod and long wild grass, whose wind-swept 
 waves seemed to break here and there in foaming crests 
 of snowy spirea; sometimes it made a long detour into the 
 high, arid steppe back from the river, where the vegetation 
 had been parched to a dull uniform yellow by weeks of hot 
 sunshine ; and sometimes it ran suddenly into a low, moist
 
 150 SIBERIA 
 
 oasis aroniul a blno stei)po lako, where we found oiivselves 
 in a beautiful natural llower-garden crowdtnl with rose- 
 bushes, hollyhocks, asters, daisies, fringed pinks, rosemary, 
 flowering pea, and splendid dark-blue spikes of aconite 
 standing shoulder high. 
 
 Animals ami birds were much more plentiful than they 
 had been in the province of Tobolsk, and were, moreover, 
 remarkably tame. Magnificent eagles perched upon the 
 telegraph poles and did not fly away until we were almost 
 opposite them; slate-colored steppe quails with tufted heads 
 ran fearlessly along the very edge of the road as we passed, 
 and even the timid little jerboa that the Cossacks call far- 
 ho(/dn stopped every now and then to look at us as it hopped 
 away into the dry grass. 
 
 As we went farther and farther from Omsk the steppe 
 became more and more sea-like in its appearance, until, 
 shortly after we passed the post-station of Piatorizhskaya 
 Thursday afternoon, it looked like a great yellow ocean 
 extending in every direction to the smooth horizon line. 
 Its peculiar old-gold color was given to it apparently by 
 the prevailing species of grass which, as it gradually dried 
 up in the hot sunshine, turned from green through reddish- 
 brown to the color of dead-ripe wheat. In places where 
 the soil happened for any reason to be moist, as in the 
 vicinity of small brackish ponds and lakes, the grass was 
 still fresh and was sprinkled with flowers ; but the stepi^e, 
 as a rule, presented the appearance of a boundless ocean of 
 wheat stubble, deepening here and there into the rich 
 orange of goldenrod. 
 
 Just before sunset we passed at a distance of two or 
 three hundred yards a lonely Kirghis cemetery, and, as we 
 had never before seen a burial-place of this nomadic tribe, 
 we stopped to examine it. It consisted of a few low, bare 
 mounds of various shapes and dimensions, and three or 
 four large, rectangular, fort-like structui'es of sun-dried 
 bricks. The high walls of the latter had raised corners,
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 151 
 
 and were pierced with square portholes through which, I 
 presume, the bodies of the dead were carried into the in- 
 closure for burial. Inside of each of these adobe forts were 
 two or more grave-shaped hillocks, and at the head of every 
 hillock stood a stick or pole with a small quantity of sheep's 
 wool wrapped around it. There were no inscriptions or 
 pictographs in or about these mortuary inclosures, and, 
 apart from the wrappings of wool, I could discover nothing 
 that seemed likely to have significance. The sun was just 
 setting as we finished our inspection and resumed our jour- 
 
 - ■- ■"♦at -■ =Si*«-v. . ;"-'>xc^ 
 
 
 A KfRGHIS CEMETERY. 
 
 
 ^^^; 
 
 ney, and twenty minutes later, when I looked back at the 
 lonely, abandoned cemetery, its orange-tinted walls made 
 the only break in the vast, curving horizon Hue of the Sea 
 of Grass. 
 
 The road everywhere between Omsk and Semipalatinsk 
 was hard and dry, and so smooth that we were scarcely 
 conscious of being jolted. We slept every night in our 
 tdrantds while going at the rate of eight miles an hour, 
 and if it had not been necessary to get out at the stations 
 in order to show our padarozhnaya and see to the harnessing 
 of fresh horses, we might have slept all night without 
 waking. 
 
 Very soon after we began to travel at night in Western 
 Siberia, our attention was attracted and our curiosity ex- 
 cited by the peculiar throbbing beat of an instrument that
 
 152 SIBERIA 
 
 we took to be a watch man's rattle, and that we heard in 
 every viUage through which we passed between sunset and 
 dawn. It was not exactly like any sound that either of us 
 had ever heard before, and we finally became very curious 
 to see how it was made. It suggested, at times, the shak- 
 ing of a billiard ball in a resonant wooden box ; but the 
 throbs were too clear-cut and regular to be made in that 
 way, and I concluded at last that they must be produced 
 by beating rapidly some sort of rude wooden drum. No 
 night-watchman ever happened to come near us until we 
 approached Pavlodar, a little town midway between Omsk 
 and Semipalatinsk. About two o'clock that morning, while 
 it was still very dark, we stopped to change horses at the 
 post station of Chernoyarskaya. Wliile a sleepy Kirghis 
 hostler was harnessing fresh horses under the supervision 
 of a large-bodied, sharp-tongued woman with a lantern in 
 her hand and a lighted cigarette in her mouth, we were 
 suddenly startled by the hollow staccato beat of a night- 
 watchman's drum coming out of the darkness behind us 
 and only a few feet away. " Now," I said to Mr. Frost, " I '11 
 see what that thing is," and springing from the tdrantds I 
 called the watchman and asked him to show me his holo- 
 tuslil'a [literally "hammerer"]. It proved to be the simplest 
 sort of a noise-producing instrument. If the reader will 
 take a wooden box about the size of a common brick, 
 knock out the two narrow sides, attach a wooden spool to 
 one end by means of a four-inch cord and fasten a clothes- 
 brush handle to the other, he will have a fairly good imita- 
 tion of a Siberian night-watchman's rattle. When this 
 instrument is shaken vigorously and rhythmically from 
 side to side, as if it were a heavy palm-leaf fan, the clap- 
 per, which is attached to the upper end and which is repre- 
 sented by the spool, swings back and forth, striking the 
 box first on one side and then on the other, and producing 
 a series of rapid staccato beats that can be heard on a still 
 night at a distance of two miles.
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 153 
 
 After a little argument and persuasion the Chernoyar- 
 skaya night-watchman consented to sell me his rattle, as a 
 curiosity, for the sum of ten cents : but he soon had reason 
 to regret the transaction. No sooner had he parted with 
 the insignia of office than the sharp-tongued and misan- 
 thropic postmistress, who was leaning against the court-yard 
 gate, and whose face I could just make out by the glow of 
 her cigarette, opened upon him a hot fire of sarcastic and 
 contemptuous remarks. "A fine night-watchman you are ! " 
 she said with scornful irony. " What are you good for now ? 
 There was nothing of you before but your breeches and 
 your rattle — and now you've sold your rattle ! " 
 
 " I can make another to-morrow," replied the night- 
 watchman in a deprecating tone. 
 
 " Make another ! " retorted the postmistress contempt- 
 uously. " There 's no use in making another if you don't 
 shake it oftener than you have to-night. Where have you 
 been all night anyhow — di'unk again with the priest?" 
 
 " Yei Bokhu matushka ! [Before God, my little mother] 
 I have n't taken a drop on my tongue to-night ! " protested 
 the night-watchman solemnly. " Of course you don't hear 
 my rattle when you're asleep — Grod forgive you for what 
 you say ! " and the watchman, as if to appease the woman's 
 wrath, began to help the Kirghis hostler harness the horses 
 — but it was of no use. 
 
 " What are you trying to do now ? " inquired the post- 
 mistress fiercely — "harness those horses up goose-fashion ? ^ 
 "Nyet bratushka" [No, my little brother], you may walk 
 goose-fashion with the priest when you and he go on a spree, 
 but you can't harness my horses goose-fashion. Gro curl up 
 in the sand somewhere until the Kabak- opens or the priest 
 gets up. Now that you 've sold the best part of yourself 
 for twenty hopeks you 're of no use to anybody. A night- 
 iva-a-tclundiTL ! that sells his r-r-attle ! ! and harnesses a troika 
 GOOSE-fashion ! ! ! " she concluded with immeasurable and 
 
 1 Tandem. 2 Dram-shop.
 
 154 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 inexpressible coutc^mpt. A moment passed — two minutes 
 — but there was no reply. The discomfited night-watchman 
 had slunk away into the darkness. 
 
 After we had passed the little Cossack town of Pavlodar 
 on Friday, the weather, which had been warm ever since 
 
 AN OASIS IN THE KfRGHIS STEPrE. 
 
 our departure from Omsk, became intensely hot, the ther- 
 mometer indicating ninety-one degrees Fahrenheit at 1 p, m. 
 As we sat, without coats or waistcoats, under the sizzling 
 leather roof of our tdrantds, fanning ourselves with our hats, 
 panting for breath, fighting huge green-eyed horseflies, 
 and looking out over an illimitable waste of dead grass
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 155 
 
 which wavered and trembled in the fierce ghire of the 
 tropical sunshine, we found it almost impossible to believe 
 that we were in Siberia. 
 
 Many of the Cossack villages along this part of our route 
 were situated down under the high, steep bank of the 
 Irtish at the very water's edge, where the soil was moist 
 enough to support a luxuriant vegetation. As a result of 
 such favorable situation, these villages were generally 
 shaded by trees and surrounded by well-kept vegetable and 
 flower gardens. After a ride of twenty miles over an arid 
 steppe in the hot, blinding sunshine of a July afternoon, it 
 was indescribably pleasant and refreshing to come down 
 into one of these little oases of greenery, where a narrow 
 arm of the Irtish flowed tranquilly under the checkered 
 shade of leafy trees; where the gardens of the Cossack 
 housewives were full of potato, encumber, and melon vines, 
 the cool, fresh green of which made an effective setting for 
 glowing beds of scarlet poppies; and where women and 
 girls with tucked-up skirts were washing clothes on a little 
 platform projecting into the river, while half-naked chil- 
 dren waded and splashed in the clear, cool water around 
 them. 
 
 We made the last stretches of our journey to Semipala- 
 tinsk in the night. The steppe over which we approached 
 the city was more naked and sterile than any that we had 
 crossed, and seemed in the faint twilight to be merely a 
 desert of sun-baked earth and short, dead grass, with here 
 and there a I'agged bush or a long, ripple-marked dune of 
 loose, drifting sand. I fell asleep soon after midnight, and 
 when I awoke at half-past two o'clock Sunday morning 
 day was just breaking, and we were passing a large white 
 building with lighted lanterns hung against its walls, which 
 I recognized as a city prison. It was the tiuremni zdmol; 
 or "prison castle" of Semipalatinsk. In a few moments 
 we entered a long, wide, lonely street, bordered by un- 
 painted log-houses, whose board window-shutters were all
 
 15() 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 closed, and whose steep, pyramidal roofs loomed high and 
 black ill the first gray light of dawn. The street was full 
 of soft, drifted sand, in which the hoofs of our horses fell 
 noiselessly, and through which our tdrantds moved with as 
 
 WASHrNG CLOTHES IN THE fRTISH. 
 
 little jar as if it were a gondola floating along a watery 
 street in Venice. There was something strangely weird 
 and impressive in this noiseless night ride through the 
 heart of a ghostly and apparently deserted city, in the 
 streets of which were the drifted sands of the desert, and 
 where there was not a sound to indicate the presence of
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 157 
 
 life save the faint, distant throbbing of a watchman's rat- 
 tle, like the rapid, far-away beating of a wooden drum. 
 We stopped at last in front of a two-story building of 
 brick, covered with white stucco, which our driver said 
 was the hotel SiUr. After pounding vigorously for five 
 minutes on the front door, we were admitted by a sleepy 
 waiter, who showed us to a hot, musty room in the second 
 story, where we finished our broken night's sleep on the 
 floor. 
 
 The city of Semipalatinsk, which has a population of 
 about 15,000 Russians, Klrghis, and Tatars, is situated on 
 the right bank of the river Irtish, 480 miles southeast of 
 Omsk and about 900 miles from Tinmen. It is the seat of 
 government of the territory of Semipalatinsk, and is com- 
 mercially a place of some importance, owing to the fact 
 that it stands on one of the caravan routes to Tashkend 
 and Central Asia, and commands a large part of the trade 
 of the Kirghis steppe. The country tributary to it is a pas- 
 toral rather than an agricultural region, and of its 547,000 
 inhabitants 497,000 are nomads, who live in 111,000 Uhit- 
 kas or felt tents, and own more than 3,000,000 head of live 
 stock, including 70,000 camels. The province produces an- 
 nually, among other things, 45,000 pounds of honey, 370,000 
 pounds of tobacco, 100,000 bushels of potatoes, and more 
 than 12,000,000 bushels of grain. There are held every 
 year within the Hmits of the territory eleven commercial 
 fairs, the transactions of which amount in the aggregate to 
 about $1,000,000. Forty or fifty caravans leave the city of 
 Semipalatinsk every year for various points in Mongolia 
 and Central Asia, carrying Russian goods to the value of 
 from $150,000 to $200,000. 
 
 It is hardly necessary, I suppose, to call the attention of 
 persons who think that all of Siberia is an arctic waste to 
 the fact that honey and tobacco are not arctic products, and 
 that the camel is not a beast of burden used by Eskimos 
 on wastes of snow. If Mr. Frost and I had supposed the
 
 158 SIBERIA 
 
 climate of southwestern Siberia to be arctic in its char- 
 actor, our minds would have been dispossessed of that 
 erroneous idea in loss than twelve hours after our arrival 
 in Seniipalatinsk. When we sot out for a walk through 
 the city about one o'clock Sunday afternoon, the thermom- 
 eter indicated eighty-nine degrees Fahrenheit in the shade, 
 with a north wind, and the inhabitants seemed to regard it 
 as rather a cool and pleasant summer day. After wading 
 around in the deej) sand under a blazing sun for an hour 
 and a half, we were more than ready to seek the shelter of 
 the hotel and call for refrigerating drinks. The city of 
 Semipalatinsk fully deserves the nickname that has been 
 given to it by the Russian officers there stationed, viz., 
 " The Devil's Sand-box." From almost any interior point 
 of view it presents a peculiar gray, dreary appearance, owing 
 partly to the complete absence of trees and grass, partly to 
 the ashy, weather-beaten aspect of its unpainted log-houses, 
 and partly to the loose, drifting sand with which its streets 
 are filled. We did not see in our walk of an hour and a 
 half a single tree, bush, or blade of grass, and we waded 
 a large part of the time through soft, dry sand which 
 was more than ankle-deep, and which in places had been 
 drifted, like snow, to a depth of four or five feet against 
 the walls of the gray log-houses. The whole city made 
 upon me the impression of a Mohammedan town built in 
 the middle of a north African desert. This impression was 
 deepened by the Tatar mosques here and there with their 
 brown, candle-extinguisher minarets; by the groups of 
 long-bearded, white-turbaned mullas who stood around 
 them ; and by the appearance in the street now and then 
 of a huge double-humped Bactrian camel, ridden into the 
 city by a swarthy, sheepskin-hooded Klrghis from the 
 steppes. 
 
 Monday morning I called upon General Tseklinski, the 
 governor of the territory, presented my letters from the 
 Russian Minister of the Interior and the Minister of Foreign
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 1.59 
 
 A STREET IN SEMIPALATINSK. 
 
 Affairs, and was gratified to find that he had apparently 
 received no private instructions with regard to us and knew 
 nothing whatever about us. He welcomed me courteously,
 
 IGO SIBEllIA 
 
 granted me permission to inspect the Semipalatinsk prison, 
 said lie wonld send tlie chief of the police to take us to 
 the mosques and show us about the city, and promised 
 to have prepared for us an open letter of introduction 
 to all the subordinate othcials in the Semipalatinsk 
 territory. 
 
 From the house of the governor I went, upon his recom- 
 mendation, to the public library, an unpretending log-house 
 in the middle of the town, where I found a small anthropo- 
 logical museum, a comfortable little reading-room supplied 
 with all the Russian newspapers and magazines, and a well- 
 chosen collection of about one thousand books, among which 
 I was somewhat surprised to find the works of Spencer, 
 Buckle, Lewes, Mill, Taine, Lubbock, Tylor, Huxley, Dar- 
 win, Lyell, Tyndall, Alfred Eussell Wallace, Mackenzie 
 Wallace, and Sir Henry Maine, as well as the novels and 
 stories of Scott, Dickens, Marryat, George Eliot, George 
 Macdonald, Anthony Trollope, Justin McCarthy, Erckmann- 
 Chatrian, Edgar Allan Poe, and Bret Harte. The library 
 was particularly strong in the departments of science and 
 political economy, and the collection of books, as a whole, 
 was in the highest degree creditable to the intelligence and 
 taste of the people who made and used it. It gave me a 
 better opinion of Semipalatinsk than anything that I had 
 thus far seen or heard. ^ 
 
 1 Most of the works of the scientific A similar taboo had been placed upon 
 authors above named were expurgated the works of Spencer, Mill, Lewes, Lub- 
 Russian editions. Almost every chap- bock, Huxley, and Lyell, notwithstand- 
 terofLecky's ''History of Rationalism" ing the fact that the censor had cut out 
 had been defaced by the censor, and in ofthemeverythingthatseemedtohimto 
 a hasty exarainatiou of it I found gaps have a " dangerous" or "demoralizing " 
 where from ten to sixty pages had been tendency. I subsequently ascertained 
 cut out bodily. Even in this mutilated that these volumes, with more than 100 
 form, and in the remote Siberian town others, had been put into the index 
 of Semipalatinsk, the book was such an expurgatorius, and that every public 
 object of terror to a cowardly Govern- librarian in the empire had been fer- 
 ment, that it had been quarantined by bidden to issue them to readers. A 
 order of the Tsar, and could not be is- complete list of the books thus placed 
 sued to a reader without special permis- under the ban will be found in Appen- 
 sion from the Minister of the Interior, dix B.
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 101 
 
 A. CAMEL TEAM CROSSING THE FORD. 
 
 11
 
 102 SIBEKIA 
 
 From the libiary i ytroJleil eastward aloug the bank of 
 the Irtish to the pendulum ferry by which communication 
 is maintained between Semipalatinsk and a Kirghis suburb 
 on the other side of the river. The ferry-boat starts from 
 a wooded ishuid in mid-stream, which is reached either by 
 crossing a foot-bridge, or by fording the shallow channel 
 that separates it from the Semipalatinsk shore. Just 
 ahead of me were several Kirghis with three or four double- 
 huuiped camels, one of which was harnessed to a Russian 
 telega. Upon reaching the ford the Kirghis released the 
 draught camel from the telega, lashed the empty vehicle, 
 wheels upwards, upon the back of the grunting, groaning 
 animal, and made him wade with it across the stream. A 
 Bactrian camel, with his two loose, drooj^ing humps, his 
 long neck, and his preposterously conceited and disdainful 
 expression of countenance, is always a ridiculous beast, but 
 he never looks so absurdly comical as when crossing a stream 
 with a four-wheeled wagon lashed bottom upward on his 
 back. The shore of the Irtish opposite Semipalatinsk is 
 nothing more than the edge of a great desert-like steppe 
 which stretches away to the southward beyond the limits of 
 vision. I reached there just in time to see the unloading 
 of a caravan of camels which had arrived from Tashkend 
 wdth silks, rugs, and other Central Asiatic goods for the 
 Semipalatinsk market. 
 
 Late in the afternoon I retraced my steps to the hotel, 
 where I found Mr. Frost, who had been sketching all day in 
 the Tatar or eastern end of the town. The evening was hot 
 and sultry, and we sat until eleven o'clock without coats or 
 waistcoats, beside windows thrown wide open to catch every 
 breath of air, listening to the unfamiliar noises of the Tatar 
 city. It was the last night of the great Mohammedan fast 
 of Ramazan, and the whole population seemed to be astir 
 until long after midnight. From every part of the town 
 came to us on the still night air the quick staccato throbbing 
 of watchmen's rattles, which sounded like the rapid beating
 
 THE GREAT KIKGHIS STEPPE 
 
 163 
 
 of wooden drums, and suggested some pagan ceremony in 
 central Africa or the Fiji Islands. Now and then the rattles 
 became quiet, and then the stillness was broken by the long- 
 
 
 \ JilKUUlS HORSEMAN i:S GALA DitliSS. 
 
 drawn, wailing cries of the muezzins from the minarets of 
 the Tatar mosques. 
 
 Tuesday morning when we awoke we found the streets 
 full of Tatars and Kirghis in gala dress, celebrating the first
 
 1(54 SIBERIA 
 
 of the three holidays that follow the Mohammedan Lent. 
 About noon the eliief of poliee came to our hotel, by diree- 
 tion of the governor, to make our aequaintance and to show 
 us about the city, and under his guidance we spent two or 
 three hours in examining the great Tatar mosque and 
 making ceremonious calls upon mullas and Tatar officials. 
 He then asked us if we would not like to see a Tatar and 
 Kirghis wrestling match. We replied, of course, in the 
 affirmative, and were driven at once in his (hyjslik)/ to an 
 open sandy common at the eastern end of the city, where 
 we found a great crowd assembled and where the wrestling 
 had already begun. The dense throng of spectators — mostly 
 Kirghis and Tatars — was arranged in concentric circles 
 around an open space twenty-five or thirty feet in diameter. 
 The inner circle was formed by two or three lines of men, 
 squatting on their heels ; then came three or four lines of 
 standing men, and behind the latter was a close circle of 
 horsemen sitting in their saddles, and representing the 
 gallery. The chief of police made a way for us through 
 the crowd to the inner circle, where we took orchestra seats 
 in the sand under a blazing sun and in a cloud of fine dust 
 raised by the wrestlers. The crowd, as we soon discovered, 
 was divided into two hostile camps, consisting respectively 
 of Kirghis and Tatars. Ours was the Kirghis side, and 
 opposite us were the Tatars. There were four masters of 
 ceremonies, who were dressed in long green khaldts, and 
 carried rattan wands. The two Tatar officials would select 
 a, champion in their corner, throw a sash over his head, pull 
 him out into the arena, and then challenge the Kirghis officials 
 to match him. The latter would soon find a man about 
 equal to the Tatar champion in size and weight, and then 
 the two contestants would prepare for the struggle. The 
 first bout after we arrived was between a good-looking, 
 smooth-faced young Kirghis, who wore a blue skull-cap and 
 a red sash, and an athletic, heavily built Tatar, in a yellow 
 skull-cap and a green sash. They eyed each other warily
 
 THE GREAT KIRGHIS STEPPE 
 
 165
 
 166 SIBEKIA 
 
 for a nionu'iit, and then clinched fiercely, each grasping with 
 one hand his adversary's sash, while he endeavored with 
 tlie other to get an advantageous hold of wrist, arm, or 
 shoulder. Their heads were pressed closely together, their 
 bodies were bent almost into right angles at their waists, 
 and their feet were kept well back to avoid trips. Presently 
 both secured sash and shoulder holds, and in a bent position 
 backed each other around the arena, the Kirghis watching 
 for an opportunity to trip and the Tatar striving to close 
 in. The veins stood out like whipcords on their foreheads 
 and necks, and their swarthy faces dripped with perspiration 
 as they struggled and manoeuvered in the scorching sun- 
 shine, but neither of them seemed to be able to find an 
 opening in the other's guard or to get any decided advantage. 
 At last, however, the Tatar backed away suddenly, pulling 
 the Kirghis violently towards him ; and as the latter stepped 
 forward to recover his balance, he was dexterously tripped 
 by a powerful side-blow of the Tatar's leg and foot. The 
 trip did not throw him to the ground, but it did throw him 
 off his guard ; and, before he could recover himself, the Ta- 
 tar broke the sash and shoulder hold, rushed in fiercely, 
 caught him around the body, and, with a hip-lock and a 
 tremendous heave, threw him over his head. The unfortu- 
 nate Kirghis fell with such violence that the blood streamed 
 from his nose and mouth and he seemed partly stunned ; but 
 he was able to get up without assistance and walked in a 
 dazed way to his corner, amidst a roar of shouts and trium- 
 phant cries from the Tatar side. 
 
 As the excitement increased new champions offered them- 
 selves, and in a moment two more contestants were locked 
 in a desperate struggle, amidst a babel of exclamations, 
 suggestions, taunts, and yells of encouragement or defiance 
 from their respective supporters. The hot air was filled with 
 a dusty haze of fine sand, which was extremely irritating to 
 the eyes ; our faces and hands burned as if they were being 
 slowly blistered by the torrid sunshine ; and the odors of
 
 THE GKEAT KillGHIS STEPPE 167 
 
 horses, of perspiration, and of greasy old sheepskins, from 
 the closely packed mass of animals and men about us, 
 became so overpowering that we could scarcely breathe ; but 
 there was so much excitement and novelty in the scene, that 
 we managed to hold out through twelve or fifteen bouts. 
 Two police officers were present to maintain order and pre- 
 vent fights, but their interference was not needed. The 
 wrestling was invariably good-lmmored, and the vanquished 
 retired without any manifestations of ill-feeling, and often 
 with laughter at their own discomfiture. The Klrghis were 
 generally overmatched. The Tatars, although perhaps no 
 stronger, were quicker and more dexterous than their 
 nomadic adversaries, and won on an average two falls out 
 of every three. About five o'clock, although the wrestling 
 still continued, we made our way out of the crowd and 
 returned to the hotel, to bathe our burning faces and, if 
 possible, get cool.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 
 
 OUR first meeting with political exiles in Siberia was 
 brought about by a fortunate accident, and, strangely 
 enough, through the instrumentality of the Government. 
 Among the many officers whose acquaintance we made in 
 Semipalatinsk was an educated and intelligent gentleman 
 named Piivlovski, who had long held an important position 
 in the Russian service, and who was introduced to us as 
 a man whose wide and accurate knowledge of Siberia, 
 especially of the steppe territories, might render him val- 
 uable to us, both as an adviser and as a source of trust- 
 worthy information. Although Mr. Pavlovski impressed 
 me from the first as a cultivated, humane, and liberal man, 
 I naturally hesitated to apply to him for information con- 
 cerning the political exiles. The advice given me in St. 
 Petersburg had led me to believe that the Grovernment 
 would regard with disapprobation any attempt on the part 
 of a foreign traveler to investigate a certain class of politi- 
 cal questions or to form the acquaintance of a certain class 
 of political offenders; and I expected, therefore, to have 
 to make all such investigations and acquaintances stealth- 
 ily and by underground methods. I was not at that time 
 aware of the fact that Russian officials and political exiles 
 are often secretly in sympathy, and it would never have 
 occurred to me to seek the aid of the one class in making 
 the acquaintance of the other. In all of my early conver- 
 sations with Mr. Pavlovski, therefore, I studiously avoided
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 169 
 
 the subject of political exile, and gave him, I think, no 
 reason whatever to suppose that I knew anything about 
 the Russian revolutionary movement, or felt any partic- 
 ular interest in the exiled revolutionists. 
 
 In the coui'se of a talk one afternoon about America, 
 Mr. Pavlovski, turning the conversation abruptly, said 
 to me, " Mr. Kennan, have you ever paid any attention to 
 the movement of young people into Siberia f " 
 
 I did not at first see the drift nor catch the significance of 
 this inquiry, and replied, in a qualified negative, that I had 
 not, but that perhaps I did not fully understand the mean- 
 ing of his question. 
 
 "I mean," he said, "that large numbers of educated 
 young men and women are now coming into Siberia from 
 European Eussia ; I thought perhaps the movement might 
 have attracted your attention." 
 
 The earnest, significant way in which he looked at me 
 while making this remark, as if he were experimenting 
 upon me or sounding me, led me to conjecture that the 
 young people to whom he referred were the political exiles. 
 I did not forget, however, that I was dealing with a Rus- 
 sian officer; and I replied guardedly that I had heard 
 something about this movement, but knew nothing of it 
 from personal observation. 
 
 " It seems to me," he said, looking at me with the same 
 watchful intentness, "that it is a remarkable social phe- 
 nomenon, and one that would naturally attract a foreign 
 traveler's attention." 
 
 I replied that I was interested, of course, in all the social 
 phenomena of Russia, and that I should undoubtedly feel 
 a deep interest in the one to which he referred if I knew 
 more about it. 
 
 " Some of the people who are now coming to Siberia," he 
 continued, "are young men and women of high attain- 
 ments — men with a university training and women of 
 remarkable character."
 
 170 SIBERIA 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " so I have heard ; and I should think 
 that they might perhaps be interesting people to know." 
 
 ''They are," he assented. "They are men and women 
 who, under other circumstances, might render valuable 
 services to their country; I am surprised that you have 
 not become interested in them." 
 
 In this manner Mr. Pavlovski and I continued to fence 
 cautiously for five minutes, each trying to ascertain the 
 views of the other, without fully disclosing his own views 
 concerning the unnamed, but clearly understood, subject of 
 political exile. Mr. Pavlovski's words and manner seemed 
 to indicate that he himself regarded with great interest 
 and respect the "young people now coming to Siberia"; 
 but that he did not dare make a frank avowal of such 
 sentiments until he should feel assured of my discretion, 
 trustworthiness, and sympathy. I, on my side, was equally 
 cautious, fearing that the uncalled-for introduction of this 
 topic by a Russian official might be intended to entrap me 
 into an admission that the investigation of political exile 
 was the real object of our Siberian journey. The adoption 
 of a quasi-friendly attitude by an ofiicer of the Govern- 
 ment towards the exiled enemies of that Grovernment seemed 
 to me an extraordinary and unprecedented phenomenon, 
 and I naturally regarded it with some suspicion. 
 
 At last, tired of this conversational beating around the 
 bush, I said frankly, " Mr. Pavlovski, are you talking about 
 the political exiles ? Are they the young people to whom 
 you refer ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied ; " I thought you understood. It seems 
 to me that the banishment to Siberia of a large part of the 
 youth of Russia is a phenomenon that deserves a traveler's 
 attention." 
 
 " Of course," I said, " I am interested in it, but how am 
 I to find out anjrthiug about it? I don't know where to 
 look for political exiles, nor how to get acquainted with 
 them; and I am told that the Government does not re-
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 171 
 
 garcl with favor intercourse between foreign travelers and 
 politicals." 
 
 " Politicals are easy enough to find," rejoined Mr. Pav- 
 lovski. " The country is full of them, and [with a shrug 
 of the shoulders] there is nothing, so far as I know, to 
 prevent you from making their acquaintance if you feel 
 so disposed. There are thirty or forty of them here in 
 Semipalatinsk, and they walk about the streets like other 
 people : why should n't you happen to meet them I " 
 
 Having once broken the ice of reserve and restraint, Mr. 
 Pavlovski and I made rapid advances towards mutual con- 
 fidence. I soon became convinced that he was not making 
 a pretense of sympathy wdth the politicals in order to lead 
 me into a trap ; and he apparently became satisfied that I 
 had judgment and tact enough not to get him into trouble 
 by talking to other people about his opinions and actions. 
 Then everything went smoothly. I told him frankly what 
 my impressions were with regard to the character of nihi- 
 lists generally, and asked him whether, as a matter of fact, 
 they were not wrong-headed fanatics and wild social theo- 
 rists, who would be likely to make trouble in any state. 
 
 " On the contrary," he replied, " I find them to be quiet, 
 orderly, reasonable human beings. We certainly have no 
 troul^le with them here. Governor Tseklinski treats them 
 with great kindness and consideration; and, so far as I 
 know, they are good citizens." 
 
 In the course of further conversation, Mr. Pavlovski said 
 that there were in Semipalatinsk, he believed, about forty 
 political exiles, including four or five women. They had 
 all been banished without judicial trial, upon mere exec- 
 uti^'e orders, signed by the Minister of the Interior and 
 approved by the Tsar. Their -terms of exile varied from 
 two to five years ; and at the expiration of such terms, if 
 their behavior meanwhile had been satisfactory to the local 
 Siberian authorities, they would be permitted to return, at 
 their own expense, to their homes. A few of them had found
 
 172 SIBEKIA 
 
 employment in Semipalatiusk and were supporting them- 
 selves; others reeeived money from relatives or friends; 
 and the remainder were supported — or rather kept from 
 aetual starvation — by a Government allowance, which 
 amounted to six rubles ($3.00) a month for exiles belong- 
 ing to the noble or privileged class, and two rubles and 
 seventy kojjc/iS ($1.35) a month for non-privileged exiles. 
 
 " Of course," said Mr. Pavlovski, " such sums are wholly 
 inadequate for their support. Nine liOpeks [four and a half 
 cents] a day won't keep a man in bread, to say nothing of 
 providing him with shelter ; and if the more fortunate ones 
 who get employment or receive money from their relatives 
 did not help the others, there would be much more suffering 
 than there is. Most of them are educated men and women, 
 and Grovernor Tseklinski, who appreciates the hardships of 
 their situation, allows them to give private lessons, although, 
 according to the letter of the law, teaching is an occu- 
 pation in which political exiles are forbidden to engage. 
 Besides giving lessons, the women sew and embroider, and 
 earn a little money in that way. They are allowed to write 
 and receive letters, as well as to have unobjectionable books 
 and periodicals; and although they are nominally under 
 police surveillance, they enjoy a good deal of personal 
 freedom." 
 
 " What is the nature of the crimes for which these young 
 people were banished ? " I inquired. " Were they conspir- 
 ators? Did they take part in plots to assassinate the 
 Tsar ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Mr. Pavlovski with a smile ; " they were 
 only nehlagonadiozhni [untrustworthy]. Some of them be- 
 longed to forbidden societies, some imported or were in 
 possession of forbidden books, some had friendly relations 
 with other more dangerous offenders, and some were con- 
 nected with disorders in the higher schools and the univer- 
 sities. The greater part of them are administrative exiles 
 — that is, persons whom the Government, for various rea-
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 173 
 
 sons, has thought it expedient to remove from their homes 
 and put under police surveillance in a part of the empire 
 where they can do no harm. The real conspirators and 
 revolutionists — the men and women who have actually- 
 been engaged in criminal activity — are sent to more re- 
 mote pai'ts of Siberia and into penal servitude. Banish- 
 ment to the steppe territories is regarded as a very light 
 punishment ; and, as a rule, only administrative exiles are 
 sent here." 
 
 In reply to further questions with regard to the character 
 of these political exiles, Mr. Pavlovski said, " I don't know 
 anything to their discredit ; they behave themselves well 
 enough here. If you are really interested in them, I can, 
 perhaps, help you to an acquaintance with some of them, 
 and then you can draw your own conclusions as to their 
 character." 
 
 Of course I assured Mr. Pavlovski that an introduction 
 to the politicals would give me more pleasure than any 
 other favor he could confer upon me. He thereupon sug- 
 gested that we should go at once to see a young political 
 exile named Lobonofski, who was engaged in painting a 
 drop-curtain for the little town theater. 
 
 " He is something of an artist," said Mr. Pavlovski, " and 
 has a few Siberian sketches. You are making and col- 
 lecting such sketches: of course you want to see them." 
 
 "Certainly," I replied with acquiescent diplomacy. 
 " Sketches are my hobby, and I am a connoisseur in drop- 
 curtains. Even although the artist be a nihilist and an 
 exile, I must see his pictures." 
 
 Mr. Pavlovski's droshhj was at the door, and we drove 
 at once to the house where Mr. Lobonofski was at work. 
 
 I find it extremely difficult now, after a whole year of 
 intimate association with political exiles, to recall the im- 
 pressions that I had of them before I made the acquain- 
 tance of the exile colony in Semipalatinsk. I know that 
 I was prejudiced against them, and that I expected them
 
 174 SIBERIA 
 
 to bo wholly unlike the rational, cultivated men and women 
 whom one nirots in civilized society ; but I cannot, by any 
 exercise of will, bring back the unreal, fantastic conception 
 of them that I had when I crossed the Siberian frontier. As 
 nearly as I can now remember, I regarded the people whom 
 I called nihilists as sullen, and more or less incomprehen- 
 sible " cranks," with some education, a great deal of fanat- 
 ical courage, and a limitless capacity for self-sacrifice, but 
 with the most visionary ideas of government and social 
 organization, and with only the faintest trace of what an 
 American would call "hard common-sense." I did not 
 expect to have any more ideas in common with them than 
 I should have in common with an anarchist like Louis 
 Lingg ; and although I intended to give their case against 
 the Government a fair hearing, I believed that the result 
 would be a confii*mation of the judgment I had already 
 formed. Even after all that Mr. Pavlovski had said to 
 me, I think I more than half expected to find in the drop- 
 curtain artist a long-haired, wild-eyed being who would 
 pour forth an incoherent recital of wrongs and outrages, 
 denounce all governmental restraint as brutal tyranny, 
 and expect me to approve of the assassination of Alex- 
 ander II. 
 
 The log house occupied by Mr. Lobonofski as a work-shop 
 was not otherwise tenanted, and we entered it without 
 announcement. As Mr. Pavlovski threw open the door, I 
 saw, standing before a large square sheet of canvas which 
 covered one whole side of the room, a blond young man, 
 apparently about thirty years of age, dressed from head to 
 foot in a suit of cool brown linen, holding in one hand an 
 artist's brush, and in the other a plate or palette covered 
 with freshly mixed colors. His strongly built figure was 
 erect and well-proportioned ; his bearing was that of a cul- 
 tivated gentleman ; and he made upon me, from the first, a 
 pleasant and favorable impression. He seemed, in fact, to 
 be an excellent specimen of the blond type of Russian
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL, EXILES 175 
 
 young manhood. His eyes were clear and blue ; his thick, 
 light-brown hair was ill cut, and rumpled a little in a boyish 
 way over the high forehead ; the full blond beard gave man- 
 liness and dignity to his well-shaped head, and his frank, 
 open, good-tempered face, flushed a little with heat and wet 
 with perspiration, seemed to me to be the face of a warm- 
 hearted and impulsive but, at the same time, strong and 
 well-balanced man. It was, at any rate, a face strangely out 
 of harmony with all my preconceived ideas of a nihilist. 
 
 Mr. Pavlovski introduced me to the young artist as an 
 American traveler, who was interested in Siberian scenery, 
 who had heard of his sketches, and who would like very 
 much to see some of them. Mr. Lobonofski greeted me 
 quietly but cordially, and at once brought out the sketches 
 — apologizing, however, for their imperfections, and asking 
 us to remember that they had been made in prison, on 
 coarse writing-paper, and that the out-door views were 
 limited to landscapes that could be seen from prison and 
 etax^e windows. The sketches were evidently the work of 
 an untrained hand, and were mostly representations of prison 
 and etape interiors, portraits of political exiles, and such bits 
 of towns and villages as could be seen from the windows of 
 the various cells that the artist had occupied in the course 
 of his journey to Siberia. They all had, however, a certain 
 rude force and fidelity, and one of them served as material 
 for the sketch illustrating the Tinmen prison-yard on 
 page 85. 
 
 My conversation with Mr. Lobonofski at this interview 
 did uot touch political questions, and was confined, for the 
 most part, to topics suggested by the sketches. He described 
 his journey to Siberia just as he would have described it 
 if he had made it voluntarily, and, but for an occasional 
 reference to a prison or an etape^ there was nothing in the 
 recital to remind one that he was a nihilist and an exile. 
 His manner was quiet, modest, and frank ; he followed any 
 conversational lead with ready tact, and although I watched
 
 171) SIBEKIA 
 
 him closely I could not detect the slightest indication of 
 eccentricity or '' crankiness." He must have felt conscious 
 that I was secretly regarding him with critical curiosity, — 
 looking at him, in fact, as one looks for the first time at an 
 extraordinary type of criminal, — but he did not manifest the 
 least awkwardness, embarrassment, or self-consciousness. 
 He was simply a quiet, well-bred, self-possessed gentleman. 
 
 AVhen we took our leave, after half an hour's conversation, 
 Mr. Lobonofski cordially invited me to bring Mr. Frost to 
 see him that evening at his house, and said that he would 
 have a few of his friends there to meet us. I thanked him 
 and promised that we would come. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Pavlovski, as the door closed behind us, 
 " what do you think of the political exile ? " 
 
 "He makes a very favorable impression upon me," I 
 replied. " Ai*e they all like him ? " 
 
 " No, not precisely like him ; but they are not bad people. 
 There is another interesting political in the city whom you 
 ought to see — a young man named Leantief. He is em- 
 ployed in the office of Mr. Makovetski, a justice of the 
 peace here, and is engaged with the latter in making an- 
 thropological researches among the Kirghis. I believe they 
 are now collecting material for a monograph upon Kirghis 
 customary law.* Why should n't you call upon Mr. Mak- 
 ovetski ? I have no doubt that he would introduce Mr. 
 Leantief to you, and I am sure that you would find them 
 both to be intelligent and cultivated men." 
 
 This seemed to me a good suggestion; and as soon as 
 Mr. Pavlovski had left me I paid a visit to Mr. Makovet- 
 ski, ostensibly for the purpose of asking permission to 
 sketch some of the Kirghis implements and utensils in the 
 town library, of which he was one of the directors. Mr. 
 Makovetski seemed pleased to learn that I was interested 
 in their little library, granted me permission to sketch the 
 
 1 This monograph has since been published in the ''Proceedings of the West 
 Siberian Branch of the Imperial Geographical Society."
 
 OUK FIKST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 177 
 
 specimens of Klrghis handiwork there exhibited, and finally 
 introduced me to his writing-clerk, Mr. Leantief, who, he 
 said, had made a special study of the Klrghis, and could 
 give me any desired information concerning the natives of 
 that tribe. 
 
 Mr. Leantief was a good-looking young fellow, apparentl}^ 
 about twenty-five years of age, rather below the medium 
 height, with light-brown hair and beard, intelligent gray 
 eyes, a slightly aquiline nose, and a firm, well-rounded chin. 
 His head and face were suggestive of studious and scien- 
 tific tastes, and if I had met him in Washington and had 
 been asked to guess his profession from his appearance, I 
 should have said that he was probably a young scientist 
 connected with the United States Geological Survey, the 
 Smithsonian Institution, or the National Museum. He 
 was, as I subsequently learned, the son of an army officer 
 who at one time commanded the Cossack garrison in this 
 same city of Semipalatinsk. As a boy he was enrolled in 
 the corps of imperial pages, and began his education in 
 the large school established by the Government for the 
 training of such pages in the Russian capital. At the age 
 of eighteen or nineteen he entered the St. Petersburg Uni- 
 versity, and in the fourth year of his student life was 
 arrested and exiled by " administrative jorocess " to West- 
 ern Siberia for five years, upon the charge of having had 
 secret communication with political prisoners in the for- 
 tress of Petropavlovsk. 
 
 Although Mr. Leantief's bearing was somewhat more 
 formal and reserved than that of Mr. Lobonofski, and his 
 attitude toward me one of cool, observant criticism, rather 
 than of friendly confidence, he impressed me very favorably; 
 and when, after half an hour's conversation, I returned to 
 my hotel, I was forced to admit to myself that if all nihilists 
 were like the two whom I had met in Semipalatinsk, I 
 should have to modify my opinions with regard to them. 
 In point of intelligence and education Mr. Lobonofski and 
 12
 
 178 SIBERIA 
 
 Mr. Leautiof seemed to me to compare favorably with any 
 young men of my acquaintance. 
 
 At eight o'clock that evening Mr. Frost and I knocked 
 at Mr. Lobonofski's door, and were promptly admitted and 
 cordially welcomed. We found him living in a small log 
 lunise not far from our hotel. The apartment into which 
 we were shown, and which served in the double capacity of 
 sitting-room and bed-room, was very small — not larger, I 
 think, than ten feet in width by fourteen feet in length. 
 Its log walls and board ceiling were covered with dingy 
 whitewash, and its floor of rough unmatched planks was 
 bare. Against a rude, unpainted partition to the right of 
 the door stood a small single bedstead of stained wood, 
 covered with neat but rather scanty bed-clothing, and in the 
 corner beyond it was a triangular table, upon which were 
 lying, among other books, Herbert Spencer's " Essays : 
 Moral, Political, and Esthetic," and the same author's 
 " Principles of Psychology." The opposite corner of the 
 room was occupied by a what-not, or etagere, of domestic 
 manufacture, upon the shelves of which were a few more 
 books, a well-filled herbarium, of coarse brown wrapping- 
 paper, an opera-glass, and an English New Testament. 
 Between two small deeply set windows opening into the 
 court-yard stood a large, unpainted wooden table, without 
 a cloth, upon which was lying, open, the book that Mr. 
 Lobonofski had been reading when we entered — a French 
 translation of Balfour Stewart's " Conservation of Energy." 
 There was no other furniture in the apartment except three 
 or four unpainted wooden chairs. Everything was scrupu- 
 lously neat and clean •, but the room looked like the home 
 of a man too poor to afford anything more than the barest 
 essentials of life. 
 
 After Mr. Lobonofski had made a few preliminary inqui- 
 ries with regard to the object of our journey to Siberia, and 
 had expressed the pleasure which he said it afforded him to 
 meet and welcome Americans in his own house, he turned
 
 OUR FIEST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 179 
 
 to me with a smile and said, " I suppose, Mr. Kennan, you 
 have heard terrible stories in America about the Russian 
 nihilists ? " 
 
 " Yes," I replied ; " we seldom hear of them except in 
 connection with a plot to blow up something or to kill some- 
 body, and I must confess that I have had a bad opinion of 
 them. The very word ' nihilist ' is understood in America 
 to mean a person who does not believe in anything and who 
 advocates the destruction of all existing institutions." 
 
 "'Nihilist' is an old nickname," he said; "and it is no 
 longer applicable to the Russian revolutionary party, if, 
 indeed, it was ever applicable. I don 't think you will find 
 among the political exiles in Siberia any ' nihilists,' in the 
 sense in which you use the word. Of course there are, in 
 what may be called the anti-Government class, people who 
 hold all sorts of political opinions. There are a few w^ho 
 believe in the so-called policy of ' terror ' — who regard 
 themselves as justified in resorting even to political assas- 
 sination as a means of overthrowing the Government ; but 
 even the terrorists do not propose to destroy all existing 
 institutions. Every one of them, I think, would lay down 
 his arms, if the Tsar would grant to Russia a constitutional 
 form of government and guarantee free speech, a free press, 
 and freedom from arbitrary arrest, imprisonment, and exile. 
 Have you ever seen the letter sent by the Russian revolu- 
 tionists to Alexander III. upon his accession to the throne?" 
 
 " No," I replied ; " I have heard of it, but have never 
 seen it." 
 
 " It sets forth," he said, " the aims and objects of the 
 revolutionary party, and contains a distinct promise that 
 if the Tsar will grant freedom of speech and summon a 
 national assembly the revolutionists will abstain from all 
 further violence, and will agree not to oppose any form of 
 government which such assembly may sanction.^ You can 
 hardly say that people who express a willingness to enter 
 
 1 See appendix C.
 
 180 SIBERIA 
 
 iuto suoli ail ajiTeenient as this are in favor of the destruction 
 of all existing- institutions. I suppose you know," he con- 
 tinued, "that when your President Garfield was assassinated, 
 the columns of ' The Will of the People ' [the organ of the 
 Russian revolutionists in Geneva] were bordered with black 
 as a token of grief and sympathy, and that the paper con- 
 tained an eloquent editorial condemning political assassina- 
 tion as wholly unjustifiable in a country where there are open 
 courts and a free press, and where the officers of the govern- 
 ment are chosen by a free vote of the people ? " 
 
 " No," I replied ; " I was not aware of it." 
 
 " It is true," he rejoined. " Of course at that time Gar- 
 field's murder was regarded as a political crime, and as 
 such it was condemned in Russia, even by the most extreme 
 terrorists." 
 
 Our conversation was interrupted at this point by the 
 entrance of three young men and a lady, who were intro- 
 duced to us as Mr. Lobonofski's exiled friends. In the 
 appearance of the young men there was nothing partic- 
 ularly striking or noticeable. One of them seemed to be 
 a bright university student, twenty-four or twenty-five 
 years of age, and the other two looked like educated peas- 
 ants or artisans, whose typically Russian faces were rather 
 heavy, impassive, and gloomy, and whose manner was 
 lacking in animation and responsiveness. Life and exile 
 seemed to have gone hard with them, and to have left 
 them depressed and embittered. The lady, whose name 
 was Madame Dicheskula, represented apparently a differ- 
 ent social class, and had a more buoyant and sunny dispo- 
 sition. She was about thirty years of age, tall and straight, 
 with a well-proportioned but somewhat spare figure, thick, 
 short brown hair falling in a soft mass about the nape of 
 her neck, and a bright, intelligent, mobile face, which I 
 thought must once have been extremely pretty. It had be- 
 come, however, a little too thin and worn, and her com- 
 plexion had been freckled and roughened by exposure to
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 181 
 
 wind and weather and by the hardships of prison and etape 
 life. She was neatly and becomingly dressed in a Scotch 
 plaid gown of soft dark serge, with little ruffles of white lace 
 at her throat and wrists ; and when her face lighted up in 
 animated conversation, she seemed to me to be a very 
 attractive and interesting woman. In her demeanor there 
 was not a suggestion of the boldness, hardness, and eccen- 
 tricity that I had expected to find in women exiled to 
 Siberia for political crime. She talked rapidly and well ; 
 laughed merrily at times over reminiscences of her journey 
 to Siberia ; apologized for the unwomanly shortness of her 
 hair, which, she said, had all been cut off in prison; and 
 related with a keen sense of humor her adventures while 
 crossing the Kirghis steppe from Akmola to Semipalatinsk. 
 That her natural buoyancy of disposition was tempered by 
 deep feeling was evident from the way in which she de- 
 scribed some of the incidents of her Siberian experience. 
 She seemed greatly touched, for example, by the kindness 
 shown to her party by the peasants of Kamishlova, a village 
 through which they passed on their way from Ekaterin- 
 burg to Tiumeu. They happened to arrive there on Trinity 
 Sunday, and were surprised to find that the villagers, as a 
 manifestation of sympathy with the political exiles, had 
 thoroughly scoured out and freshened up the old village 
 etape^ and had decorated its gloomy cells with leafy branches 
 and fresh wild-flowers. It seemed to me that tears came 
 to her eyes as she expressed her deep and grateful appre- 
 ciation of this act of thoughtfulness and good-will on the 
 part of the Kamishlova peasants. 
 
 About nine o'clock Mr. Lobonofski brought in a steaming 
 samovar, Madame Dicheskula made tea, and throughout 
 the remainder of the evening we sat all around the big 
 pine table as if we had been acquainted for months instead 
 of hours, talking about the Russian revolutionary move- 
 ment, the exile system, literature, art, science, and American 
 politics. The cool, reasonable way in which these exiles
 
 18i! SIBERIA 
 
 discussed public affairs, problems of government, and their 
 personal experience impressed me very favorably. There 
 was none of the bitterness of feeling and extravagance of 
 statement that I had anticipated, and I did not notice in 
 their conversation the least tendency to exaggerate or even 
 to dwell upon their own sufferings as a means of exciting 
 our sympathy. Madame Dicheskula, for instance, had been 
 robbed of most of her clothing and personal effects by the 
 police at the time of her arrest ; had spent more than a year 
 in solitary confinement in the Moscow forwarding prison ; 
 had then been banished, without trial, to a dreary settle- 
 ment in the Siberian province of Akmolinsk ; and, finally, 
 had been brought across the great Kirghis steppe in winter 
 to the city of Semipalatinsk. In all this experience there 
 must have been a great deal of intense personal suffering ; 
 but she did not lay half as much stress upon it in conversa- 
 tion as she did upon the decoration of the old etape with 
 leafy branches and flowers by the people of Kamishlova, as 
 an expression of sympathy with her and her exiled friends. 
 About eleven o'clock, after a most pleasant and interesting 
 evening, we bade them all good-night and returned to our 
 hotel. 
 
 On the following morning Mr. Lobonofski, Madame Dich- 
 eskula, Mr. Frost, and I took droshhies and drove down the 
 right bank of the Irtish a mile or two, to a small grove of 
 poplars and aspens near the water's edge, where six or 
 eight political exiles were spending the summer in camp. 
 A large Kirghis yiirt of felt, and two or three smaller cotton 
 tents, had been pitched on the grass under the trees, and 
 in them were living two or three young women and four 
 or five young men, who had taken this means of escaping 
 from the heat, glare, and sand of the verdureless city. 
 Two of the women were mere girls, seventeen or eighteen 
 years of age, who looked as if they ought to be pursuing 
 their education in a high school or a female seminary, and 
 why they had been exiled to Siberia I could not imagine.
 
 OUK FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 183 
 
 It did not seem to me possible that they could be regarded 
 in any country, or under any circumstances, as a danger- 
 ous menace to social order or to the stability of the Gov- 
 ernment. As I shook hands with them and noticed their 
 shy, embarrassed behavior, and the quick flushes of color 
 which came to their cheeks when I spoke to them, I experi- 
 enced for the first time something like a feeling of con- 
 tempt for the Eussian Government. " Jf I were the Tsar," 
 I said to Mr. Frost, "and had an army of soldiers and 
 police at my back, and if, nevertheless, I felt so afraid of 
 timid, half-grown school-girls that I could n't sleep in 
 peaceful security until I had banished them to Siberia, I 
 think I should abdicate in favor of some stronger and 
 more courageous man." The idea that a powerful Govern- 
 ment like that of Russia could not protect itself against 
 seminary girls and Sunday-school teachers without tearing 
 them from their families, and isolating them in the middle 
 of a great Asiatic desert, seemed to me not only ludicrous, 
 but absolutely preposterous. 
 
 We spent in the pleasant shady camp of these political 
 exiles nearly the whole of the long, hot summer day. Mr. 
 Frost made sketches of the picturesquely grouped tents, 
 while I talked with the young men, read Irving aloud to 
 one of them who was studying English, answered questions 
 about America, and asked questions in turn about Siberia 
 and Russia. Before the day ended we were upon as cor- 
 dial and friendly a footing with the whole party as if we 
 had known them for a month. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we returned to the city, and in the 
 evening went to the house of Mr. Leantief, where most of 
 the political exiles whom we had not yet seen had been 
 invited to meet us. The room into which we were ushered 
 was much larger and better furnished than that in which 
 Mr. Lobonofski lived; but nothing in it particularly at- 
 tracted my attention except a portrait of Herbert Spencer, 
 which hung on the wall over Mr. Leantief's desk. There
 
 1g^ SIBEKIA 
 
 \vi"r(> twt'lvo or tit'tooii exiles present, including Mr. Lobo- 
 nofski, M:ulanie Dieheskiila, Dr. Bogomolets,— a young sur- 
 gtH>n \vlu)st> wife was in penal servitude at the mines of 
 Kara,— and tlio two Prisedski sisters, to whom reference 
 was niado in my article upon the "Prison Life of the Rus- 
 sian Rovohitionists," in The Cm fun/ Maf/cmiiC for Decem- 
 ber, 1887. The general conversation which followed our 
 introiluction to the assembled company was bright, ani- 
 mated, and informal. Mr. Leantief, in reply to questions 
 from me, related the history of the Semipalatinsk library, 
 and said that it had not only been a great boon to the 
 political exiles, but had noticeably stimulated the intellec- 
 tual life of the city. " Even the Kirghis," he said, " occa- 
 sionally avail themselves of its privileges. I know a learned 
 old Kirghis here, named Ibrahim Konobai, who not only 
 goes to the library, but reads such authors as Buckle, Mill, 
 and Draper." 
 
 " You don 't mean to say," exclaimed a young university 
 student, " that there is any old Kirghis in Semipalatinsk 
 who actuaUy reads Mill and Draper ! " 
 
 " Yes, I do," replied Mr. Leantief, coolly. " The very first 
 time I met him he astonished me by asking me to explain 
 to him the difference between induction and deduction. 
 Some time afterward I found out that he was really making 
 a study of Enghsh philosophy, and had read Russian trans- 
 lations of all the authors that I have named." 
 
 " Do you suppose that he understood what he read I " 
 inquired the university student. 
 
 '• I spent two w4iole evenings in examining him upon 
 Draper's ' Intellectual Development of Europe,' " replied Mr. 
 Leantief ; " and I must say that he seemed to have a very 
 fair comprehension of it." 
 
 " I notice," I said, " that a large number of books in the 
 library — particularly the works of the English scientists — 
 have been withdrawn from public use, although all of them 
 seem once to have passed the censor. How does it happen
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING ^VITH POLITICAL EXILES 185 
 
 that books are at one time allowed and at another time 
 prohibited I " 
 
 "Our censorship is very capricious," replied one of the 
 exiles. " How would you explain the fact that such a book 
 as Adam Smith's ' Wealth of Nations ' is prohibited, while 
 Darwin's ' Origin of Species ' and ' Descent of Man ' are 
 allowed ? The latter are certainly more dangerous than 
 the former." 
 
 " It has been suggested," said another, "that the list of 
 prohibited books was made up by putting together, without 
 examination, the titles of all books found by the police in 
 the quarters of persons arrested for political offenses. The 
 ' Wealth of Nations ' happened to be found in some un- 
 fortunate revolutionist's house, therefore the ' Wealth of 
 Nations ' must be a dangerous book." 
 
 " When I was arrested," said Mr. Lobonofski, " the police 
 seized and took away even a French history that I had 
 borrowed from the public library. In looking hastily 
 through it they noticed here and there the word 'revolution,' 
 and that was enough. I tried to make them understand 
 that a French history must, of course, treat of the French 
 Revolution, but it was of no use. They also carried off, 
 under the impression that it was an infernal machine, a 
 rude imitation of a steam-engine which my little brother 
 had made for amusement out of some bits of wood and 
 metal and the tubes of an old opera-glass." Amidst general 
 laughter, a number of the exiles related humorous anecdotes 
 illustrating the methods of the Russian police, and then the 
 conversation drifted into other channels. 
 
 As an evidence of the intelligence and cultui*e of these 
 political exiles, and of the wide range of their interests and 
 sympathies, it seems to me worth while to say that their 
 conversation showed more than a superficial acquaintance 
 with the best English and American literature, as well as a 
 fairly accurate knowledge of American institutions and 
 history. Among the authors referred to, discussed, or
 
 186 SIBERIA 
 
 quoted l.y tlioin that ovoiiiiig were Shakspere, Mill, Spen- 
 oer, Buckle, Balt'ouv Stewart, Heine, Hegel, Lange, Irving, 
 Cooper, Longfellow, Bret Harte, and Harriet Beeclier Stowe. 
 Tliey knew the name and something of the record of our 
 newiy elected Pi-esident, discussed intelligently his civil- 
 service reform policy and asked pertinent questions with 
 regard to its working, and manifested generally an acquain- 
 tance with American att'airs that one does not expect to 
 tind anywhere on the other side of the Atlantic, and least 
 of all in Siberia. 
 
 After a plain hut substantial supper, with delicious over- 
 land tea, the exiles sang for us in chorus some of the 
 plaintive popular melodies of Russia, and Mr. Frost and I 
 tried, in turn, to give them an idea of our college songs, our 
 war songs, and the music of the American negroes. It must 
 have been nearly midnight when we reluctantly bade them 
 all good-by and returned to the Hotel Sibir. 
 
 It is impossible, of course, to give even the substance of 
 the long conversations concerning the Eussian Government 
 and the Russian revolutionary movement which I had with 
 the political exiles in Semipalatinsk. All that I aim to do 
 at present is to describe, as fairly and accurately as possible, 
 the impression that these exiles made upon me. If I may 
 judge others by myself, American readers have had an idea 
 that the people who are called nihilists stand apart from the 
 rest of mankind in a class by themselves, and that there is 
 in their character something fierce, gloomy, abnormal, and, 
 to a sane mind, incomprehensible, which alienates from 
 them, and which should alienate from them, the sympathies 
 of the civilized world. If the political exiles in Semipala- 
 tinsk be taken as fair representatives of the class thus 
 judged, the idea seems to me to be a wholly mistaken one. 
 I found them to be bright, intelligent, well-informed men 
 and women, with warm affections, quick sympathies, gener- 
 ous impulses, and high standards of honor and duty. They 
 are, as Mr. Pavlovski said to me, "men and women who.
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING WITH POLITICAL EXILES 187 
 
 under other circumstances, might render valuable services 
 to their country." If, instead of thus serving their country, 
 they are living in exile, it is not because they are lacking in 
 the\drtue and the patriotism that are essential to good 
 citizenship, but because the Government, which assumes 
 the right to think and act for the Russian people, is out of 
 harmony with the spirit of the time.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 OX Saturday, July 18th, after having inspected the city 
 prison, ol)taine(I as much information as possible con- 
 cerning the exile system, and made farewell calls upon our 
 friends, we provided ourselves with a new padarozhnaya 
 and left Semipalatinsk with three post-horses for the moun- 
 tains of the Altai. The wild alpine region that we hoped 
 to explore lies along the frontier of Mongolia, about 350 
 miles east of Semipalatinsk and nearly 600 miles due south 
 from Tomsk. The German travelers Finsch and Brehm 
 went to the edge of it in 1876, but the high snowy peaks of 
 the Katunski and Chuiski Alps, east of the Altai Station, 
 had never been seen by a foreigner, and had been visited 
 by very few Russians. 
 
 For nearly two hundred versts, after leaving Semipala- 
 tinsk, we rode up the right bank of the Irtish, through a 
 great rolling steppe of dry, yellowish grass. Here and there, 
 where this steppe was irrigated by small streams running 
 into the Irtish, it supported a luxuriant vegetation, the little 
 transverse valleys being filled with wild roses, hollyhocks, 
 goldenrod, wild currant and gooseberry bushes, and splen- 
 did spikes, five feet in height, of dark-blue aconite ; but in 
 most places the gi^eat plain was sun-scorched and bare. The 
 Cossack villages through which we passed did not differ 
 materially from those between Semipalatinsk and Omsk, 
 except tliat their log houses were newer and in better repair, 
 and thcii- inhabitants seemed to be wealthier and more
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 189 
 
 prosperous. The Russian love of crude color became again 
 apparent in the dresses of the women and girls; and on 
 
 ■'^-^■- y^ '.' •<■ 
 
 St.Petersburg '^"■-.-"^'^C-' — ^^ 
 
 Moscow \ 
 6 
 
 'er,.,s/:U 
 
 MAP OF ROnXE FROM SEMIPALAtINSK TO THE ALTAi. 
 
 Sunday, when all of the Cossacks were in holiday attire, the 
 streets of these villages were bright with the red, blue, and 
 yellow costumes of the young men and women, who sat in
 
 190 
 
 SIBEKIA 
 
 rows upon benches in the shade of the houses, talking, 
 tlirting, and eating melon seeds, or, after the sun had gone 
 ilownrdaneed in the streets to the music of fiddles and 
 triaiiu-nlar u'uitars. 
 
 
 COSSACK PEASANT UIKL SPINNING. 
 
 The farther we went up the Irtish the hotter became the 
 weather and the more barren the steppe, until it was easy 
 to imagine that we were in an Arabian or a north African 
 desert. The thermometer ranged day after day from 90° to 
 103° in the shade ; the atmosphere was suffocating ; every
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI llJl 
 
 leaf and every blade of grass, as far as the eye could reach, 
 had been absolutely burned dead by the fierce sunshine ; 
 great whirling columns of sand, 100 to 150 feet in height, 
 swept slowly and majestically across the sun-scorched 
 plain ; and we could trace the progress of a single mounted 
 Kirghis five miles away by the cloud of dust that his horse's 
 hoofs raised from the steppe. I suffered intensely from 
 heat and thirst, and had to protect myself from the fierce 
 sunshine by swathing my body in four thicknesses of 
 blanket and putting a big down pillow over my legs. I 
 
 » could not hold my hand in that sunshine five minutes with- 
 out pain, and wrapping my body in four thicknesses of 
 heavy woolen blanketing gave me at once a sensation of 
 coolness. Mine was the southern or sunny side of the 
 tdrcDitds, and I finally became so exhausted with the fierce 
 heat, and had such a strange feeling of faintness, nausea, 
 
 . and suffocation, that I asked Mr. Frost to change sides with 
 me, and give me a brief respite. He wrapped himself up in 
 a blanket, put a pillow over his legs, and managed to endure 
 it until evening. Familiar as I supjDOsed myself to be with 
 Siberia, I little thought, when I crossed the frontier, that I 
 should find in it a North African desert, with whirling sand- 
 columns, and sunshine from which I should be obliged to 
 protect my limbs with blankets. I laughed at a Russian' 
 officer in Omsk who told me that the heat in the valley of 
 the Irtish was often so intense as to cause nausea and 
 fainting, and who advised me not to travel between eleven 
 o'clock in the morning and three in the afternoon when the 
 day was cloudless and hot. The idea of having a sunstroke 
 in Siberia, and the suggestion not to travel there in the 
 middle of the day, seemed to me so preposterous that I could 
 not restrain a smile of amusement. He assured me, how- 
 ever, that he was talking seriously, and said that he had 
 seen soldiers unconscious for hours after a fit of nausea and 
 fainting, brought on by marching in the sunshine. He did 
 not know sunstroke by name, and seemed to think that the
 
 1V2 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 symptoms which ho doscribed were peculiar effects of the 
 Irtish valley heat, but it was evidently sunstroke that he 
 
 had seen. 
 
 At the station of Voroninskaya, in the middle of this 
 parched desert, we were ovei'taken by a furious hot sand- 
 
 _»i;i.iiii'iMi"' 
 
 storm from the southwest, with a temperature of 103° in 
 the shade. The sand and fine hot dust were carried to a 
 height of a hundred feet, and drifted past us in dense, suf- 
 focating clouds, hiding everything from sight and making 
 it almost impossible to breathe. Although we were riding
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 193 
 
 with the storm, and not against it, I literally gasped for 
 breath for more than two hours ; and when we arrived at 
 the station of Cheremshanka, it would have been hard to 
 tell, from an inspection of our faces, whether we were Kir- 
 ghis or Americans — black men or white. I drank nearly 
 a quart of cold milk, and even that did not fully assuage 
 my fierce thirst. Mr. Frost, after washing the dust out of 
 his eyes and drinking seven tumblers of milk, revived suf- 
 ficiently to say, " If anybody thinks that it does n't get hot 
 in Siberia, just refer him to me ! " 
 
 At the station of Malo Ki'asnoyarskaya we left the Irtish 
 to the right and saw it no more. Late that afternoon we 
 reached the first foot-hills of the great mountain range of 
 the Altai, and began the long, gradual climb to the Altai 
 Station. Before dark on the following day we were riding 
 through cool, elevated alpine meadows, where the fresh 
 green grass was intermingled with bluebells, fragrant spirea, 
 gentians, and delicate fringed pinks, and where the moun- 
 tain tops over our heads were white, a thousand feet down, 
 with freshly fallen snow. The change from the torrid Af- 
 rican desert of the Irtish to this superb Siberian Switzer- 
 land was so sudden and so extraordinary as to be almost 
 bewildering. I could not hel]3 asking myself every fifteen 
 minutes, "Did I only dream of that dreary, sun-scorched 
 steppe yesterday, with its sandspouts, its mountains of 
 furnace slag, its fierce heat, and its whitening bones, or is 
 it really possible that I can have come from that to this in 
 twenty-four hours f" To my steppe- wearied eyes, the 
 scenery, as we approached the Altai Station, was inde- 
 scribably beautiful. On our left was a range of low moun- 
 tains, the smooth slopes of which were checkered with 
 purple cloud shadows and tinted here and there by vast 
 areas of flowers ; on our right, rising almost from the road, 
 was a splendid chain of bold, grandly sculptured peaks 
 from seven thousand to nine thousand feet in height, 
 crowned with one thousand feet of fresh, brilliantly white 
 13
 
 194 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 snow, aiul hvhvd with u broad zone of evergreen forest; 
 beneath lay a beautiful, park-like valley, through which 
 ran the road, under the shade of scattered larches, across 
 clear, rushing mountain streams which came tumbling 
 down in cascades from the melting snows above, and over 
 grassy meadows sprinkled with wild pansies, gentians, 
 fringed pinks, and ripening strawberries. After three thou- 
 sand miles of almost unbroken plain, or steppe, this scene 
 
 THE ALtIi station. 
 
 made upon me a profound impression. We reached the 
 Altai Station about six o'clock in the cool of a beautiful, 
 calm, midsummer afternoon. I shall never forget the enthu- 
 siastic delight that I felt as I rode up out of a wooded valley 
 fragrant with wild-flowers, past a picturesque cluster of 
 colored Kirghis tents, across two hundred yards of smooth, 
 elevated meadow, and then, stopping at the entrance to the 
 village, turned back and looked at the mountains. Never, 
 I thought, had I seen an alpine picture that could for a 
 moment bear comparison with it. I have seen the most
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 195 
 
 beautiful sceuery iu the mouutaius of the Sierra Nevada, 
 of Nicaragua, of Kamchatka, of the Caucasus, and of the 
 Russian Altai, and it is my deliberate opinion that for varied 
 beauty, picturesqueness, and effectiveness that mountain 
 landscape is absolutely unsurpassed. If there exist any- 
 where a more superbly situated village, I am ready to cross 
 three oceans to see it. 
 
 The Altai Station, or, as the Kirghis call it, " Koton Kara- 
 ghai," is situated at a height of about thirty-five hundred 
 feet in the upper part of the fertile alpine valley known as 
 the valley of the Biikhtarma. The village stands upon a 
 small, flat terrace or plateau two or three miles square, which 
 is bounded on the north by rolling, flowery foot-hills and 
 on the south by a shallow wooded ravine through which 
 flows an insignificant tributary of the Bukhtarma River. 
 The main street of the little hamlet runs parallel with the 
 ravine, and on the opposite side of the latter rise abruptly 
 three or four grandly sculptured peaks, whose steep slopes 
 are clothed to a height of two or three thousand feet with 
 larch forests, and above that are generally white, even iu 
 midsummer, with fresh-fallen snow. The village itself is 
 a mere Cossack picket of seventy or eighty log houses, with 
 wide, clean streets, and mth a quaint log chui'ch at one end ; 
 but to a traveler just from the hot, arid plains of the Irtish 
 even this insignificant Cossack station has its peculiar 
 charm. In front of every house in the settlement is a little 
 inclosure, or front yard, filled with young birches, silver- 
 leafed aspens, and flowering shrubs, and through all of these 
 yards, down each side of every street runs a tinkling, gur- 
 gling stream of clear, cold water from the melting snows 
 on the mountains. The whole village, therefore, go where 
 you will, is filled with the murmur of falling water; and 
 how pleasant that sound is, you must travel for a month 
 in the parched, dust-smothered, sun-scorched valley of the 
 Irtish fully to understand. The little rushing streams seem 
 to bring with them, as they tumble in rapids through the
 
 iiu; 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 settltMiieiit, the fre.^li, cool atmosphere of the high peaks 
 where they were boru two hours before ; and although your 
 theniioineter may say that the day is hot aud the air sul- 
 try, its statements are so pei-sistently, so confidently, so 
 hilariously controverted by the joyous voice of the stream 
 under your window, with its half- expressed suggestions of 
 snow and i;-laciers and cooling spray, that your reason is 
 
 
 OUK HOUSE AT THE ALTAI STATION. 
 
 silenced and your imagination accepts the story of the 
 snow-born brook. 
 
 The morning after our arrival at the Altai Station dawned 
 clear, cool, and bright, and after a good breakfast served by 
 the wife of the Cossack in whose house we had found 
 shelter, we went out to survey the village. Mr. Frost, who 
 was equipped with sketching-block and i^encils, soon dis- 
 covered a desirable point of view for a picture and, having 
 hired a burly Cossack to stand beside him in such a 
 position as to throw the shadow of his body across the 
 paper, and thus serve as a sun-umbrella, he went to work. 
 Meanwhile I strolled through the village and out past the 
 quaint log church in the direction of the village shops which, 
 with the Government storehouses, were situated on the
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 197 
 
 eastern side of the plateau. Three or four hundred yards 
 from the church, hi the middle of the flowery plain, a com- 
 pany of Cossacks, dressed in dark-green uniforms and 
 armed with Berdan rifles, were practising what seemed to 
 be the Russian skirmish drill. They had been divided into 
 three squads, each of which, under the direction of an 
 oflacer, was manoeuvering against an imaginary enemy. 
 Now they would rush forward at " double-quick," firing at 
 will as they advanced, then they would suddenly close up, 
 throw themselves at full length on the ground, and in that 
 position deliver volley after volley until they were hidden 
 in powder smoke, and finally the three squads would unite 
 and charge fiercely in solid column, with the peculiar con- 
 tinuous Russian " oor-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah ! " which has been 
 heard with anxiety and dread by the defenders of many a 
 Turkish redoubt. 
 
 The shops of the Altai Station were only three or four in 
 number, and I found in them few things that were either 
 curious or interesting. Perhaps, however, I should qualify 
 this statement by limiting it to things purchasable. The 
 shops were full of Kirghis buyers and Klrghis horses, and 
 in many respects they were interesting enough to satisfy the 
 most exacting foreign traveler. There is a certain amount 
 of adventurous interest in the mere act of forcing one's 
 way into a shop when the shop is full of Klrghis and the 
 door is completely blocked up with the bodies of Kirghis 
 saddle-horses. Hitching-posts at the Altai Station are 
 entirely unknown, and in the absence of such conveniences 
 Kirghis horsemen are accustomed to lead their horses di- 
 rectly into the shops that they have occasion to visit and 
 hold them there by the bridles while they themselves stand 
 at the counter and examine goods. As a result of this in- 
 teresting custom you will often see four or five Kirghis 
 horses whose heads and fore-legs are across the threshold 
 of a shop door, while their hind-quarters are massed in a 
 sort of reversed equine phalanx outside. If you have not
 
 l;)v^ SIBEKIA 
 
 implicit I'OiitidiMK'o in the tompevs of Kirghis mountain 
 ponit's, tlioir bodies thus arranged constitute a most for- 
 midable barricade. By means of soothing and conciliatory 
 measures I generally succeeded in separating two horses 
 surticicntly so that I could squeeze through between them 
 into the shop, but I rarely found there anything of local 
 origin or nuiuufacture to repay me for my trouble. Most 
 of the goods that were shown to me were from European 
 Russia, and were such as I had seen in scores of Siberian 
 shops already. The mountain Kirghis, however, who were 
 tlie chief consumers of these goods, were interesting enough 
 to more than nuike up for the commonplace nature of the 
 goods themselves. They wei'e generally wilder-looking men 
 than the steppe Kirghis whose acquaintance we had made 
 in the territory of Semipalatinsk, and the wildness of their 
 appearance was heightened, perhaps, to some extent, by 
 their dress. This consisted of an under tunic or shirt of 
 cotton cloth striped perpendicularly with red, straight 
 trousers of butternut homespun thrust into top-boots, a 
 bcshnict or quilted dressing-gown of black, brown, or gray 
 homespun girt about the waist with a narrow, silver-studded 
 leather belt, and finally an extraordinary pointed hood of 
 quilted cloth covering the whole head and neck, with long 
 chin-laps hanging over the shoulders in front and a bunch 
 of soft feathers dangling from the high, pointed crown. 
 These hoods were almost invariably lined and trimmed with 
 fur, and were made frequently of a peculiar kind of Russian 
 cloth, in which the wavy markings of watered silk are 
 imitated in green, yellow, and purple, so as to produce a 
 sort of chromatic moire antique. It would be hard to 
 imagine anything stranger or wilder in appearance than the 
 rough-hewn, beardless, sun-scorched face of an old Kirghis, 
 framed in one of these high, pointed hoods of green, yellow, 
 and p*ir})le, and half concealed by the chin-laps and the 
 shaggy fringe of bear-skin or wolf-skin that hangs like a 
 neglected bang over the dark, fierce eyes.
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 199 
 
 I spent an hour or more that morniug in the little shops 
 of the Altai Station, making a pretense of looking at goods 
 in order that I might have an opportunity to study the 
 Kirghis. I was greatly interested in their forms of saluta- 
 tion, and particularly in their method of shaking or pressing- 
 hands, which I had never before seen. When two Kirghis 
 acquaintances meet, after a period of separation, each of 
 them holds out both his hands with thumbs uppermost, very 
 much as he would hold out his arms to take a baby. One 
 of them puts the palm of his right hand against the back of 
 the other's left, and the back of his left hand against the 
 palm of the other's right, and then both bring their hands 
 together as if they were about to clap them. The result is 
 a sandwiching of the two pairs of hands in such a manner 
 that each person has between his two palms one hand of 
 the other. The hands are pressed closely together in this 
 way without motion while the acquaintances exchange 
 salutations and inquiries with regard to health. This 
 seemed to me to be a much more graceful and appropriate 
 form of hand-greeting than the vise-like grip and the 
 meaningless shake of the civilized world. The mere pump- 
 ing of interlocked hands has neither grace nor significance, 
 while the gentle pressure of a friend's hand between both 
 one's own is a perfectly natural and suitable expression of 
 affectionate regard. The only objection that I can see to it 
 is that, for indiscriminate use, it partakes too much of the 
 nature of a caress. In civilized society, therefore, it should 
 be reserved for cases in which a hand-shake would be too 
 formal and an embrace too familiar. Thus restricted, I offer 
 it to the world as the first contribution of the Altai Kirghis 
 to the polite ceremonies of social life. 
 
 Upon returning from the shops to the place where I had 
 left Mr. Frost, I found him still at work upon his sketch, 
 which had begun to assume the appearance of the illustra- 
 tion on page 19-4. Just before noon, at the suggestion of the 
 Cossack ataman who came to our house to return our pass-
 
 •_)()() SIBEKIA 
 
 polls, I nuulo a call of ceremony upon Captain Maiefski, the 
 in/cUdni tuH'hUii'tk or ehief administrative officer of the 
 southern Altai district. I found him to be a pleasant, culti- 
 vated othcei- about thirty-five years of age, who had just 
 returned from a trip on horseback through the high Altai, 
 and \vlu> could give me the fullest and most accurate infor- 
 mation with regard to scenery and routes. He welcomed 
 nu' very cordially, introduced me to his wife,— a most agree- 
 able and intelligent young Avoman,— and invited me to come 
 with Mr. Frost that day to dinner. I accepted the invitation, 
 \)o{\\ for myself and for my comrade, and we thus began an 
 aciiuaintance that proved to be a very delightful and advan- 
 tageous one for us, and that brought some novelty and 
 variety, I hope, into the rather lonely and eventless lives of 
 Ca]>tain and Mrs. Maiefski. 
 
 \Ve remained at the Altai Station three or four days, 
 making excursions into the neighboring mountains with 
 Captain Maiefski and his wife, visiting and photographing 
 the Kirghis who were encamped near the village, and col- 
 lecting information with regard to the region lying farther 
 to the northward and eastward which we hoped to explore. 
 The uKnintains of the Altai occupy in southern Siberia an 
 area more than three times as great as that of Switzerland. 
 Only a small part of this vast wilderness of mountains has 
 been actually settled by the Russians, and outside of the 
 fertile valleys of such rivers as the Katun and the Biikh- 
 tarma it is very imperfectly known, even to the hardy and 
 daring Cossack pioneers. For this ignorance, however, 
 there are several good reasons. In the first place, the 
 southern part of the Russian Altai, including the valley 
 of the Bukhtarma and the high peaks of the Katiinski and 
 Chili ski Alps, belonged, until very recently, to the empire 
 of China. The Russians first appeared in the upper part 
 of the Bukhtarma valley in 1869, and the Altai Station was 
 not founded until two years later. It was then nothing 
 more than a Cossack observing-jjicket on the new Chinese
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 201 
 
 frontier. In the second place, exploration of these wild 
 mountain fastnesses has always been attended with gTeat 
 difficulty. In the high alpine valleys, and on the elevated 
 plateaus of the main range, snow falls to a great depth in 
 winter; the short summer begins late; the streams that 
 rise among the colossal peaks of the Great Altai are gener- 
 ally torrents and flow through deep, rugged, almost impas- 
 sable gorges until they descend to the level of the foot-hills ; 
 and the mountain walls that separate neighboring valleys 
 are so high, rocky, and precipitous, that crossing them on 
 horseback is difficult and dangerous, even when they are 
 free from snow. There is only one practicable commercial 
 route over the main range of the Altai between the Chiiiski 
 Alps and the right bank of the Irtish, — a distance of more 
 than two hundred miles, — and this solitary route is a mere 
 bridle-path, which crosses the desolate plateau of Ukeik 
 and the precipitous water-shed of Ulan-daba at a height 
 of 9260 feet. Of course in such a wilderness as this there 
 was an ample field for enterprising explorers, but as our 
 time was limited we decided, after a number of consul- 
 tations with Captain Maiefski, to content ourselves with 
 an excursion to the peaks and glaciers of the Katiinski 
 Alps. 
 
 The day of our departure happened to be Captain Maief- 
 ski's namesday; and in order to celebrate it and at the 
 same time to give us a pleasant " send-off," he invited a 
 party of friends to go with us as far as the rapids of the 
 Bukhtarma river, about fifteen versts from the Station, and 
 there have a picnic. When we started, therefore, we were 
 accompanied by Captain Maiefski and his wife and daugh- 
 ter, the Cossack atamdn and his wife, a political exile named 
 Zavalishin and his wife, and three or four other officers and 
 ladies. The party was escorted by ten or fifteen mounted 
 Klrghis in bright-colored heshmets girt about the waist with 
 silver-studded belts; and the cavalcade of uniformed offi- 
 cers, gaily dressed ladies, and hooded Kirghis presented a
 
 •2()-2 SIBERIA 
 
 mot^t novel and pict mosque appearance, as it cantered away 
 across the grassy plateau. 
 
 The ilay was warm and sunshiny, but clouds were drift- 
 inu" occasionally across the snow-clad peaks south of the 
 \ilhmv, diversifying their sides with moving areas of pur- 
 ple shadow and increasing the impression of great height 
 that they made upon one. The road, which was dry, hard, 
 and in good condition, crossed the little valley just above 
 the village and then ran along the slopes of the southern 
 mountains through an open, park-like forest of larch, pop- 
 lar, and silver birch. Flowers were blossoming everywhere 
 in almost incredible luxuriance and profusion. The sunny 
 stretches of grass in the forest openings were embroidered 
 with dark-blue gentians, wild pansies, forget-me-nots, and 
 delicate fringed pinks ; in moister, cooler places stood splen- 
 did ultramarine spikes, eight feet high, of aconite, and here 
 and there, on the brink of the valley, were white drifts of 
 spirea covering areas of from twenty to fifty square feet 
 with dense masses of snowy bloom. 
 
 All along the road, w^here it ran through the open forest, 
 we noticed ant-hills, four or five feet in height, swarming 
 with large black ants. As we passed one of them Mrs. 
 Maiefski handed her white cambric handkerchief to a 
 Kirghis horseman, and told him to throw it upon the hill 
 and then give it to me. The handkerchief no sooner touched 
 the hill than it was black with startled ants. After allow- 
 ing them to run over it for three or four seconds the Kirghis, 
 who had evidently seen this experiment tried before, caught 
 it up dexterously by one corner, gave it a quick, sharp flirt 
 to free it from the insects, and then handed it to me. 
 
 " Smell of it," said Mrs. Maiefski. I obeyed, and was sur- 
 prised to discover that, although perfectly dry to the touch, 
 it affected the nostrils precisely as if it had been saturated 
 with aromatic vinegar. It had acquired this odor in the few 
 seconds that it had lain upon the ant-hill. I then tried the 
 same experiment with my own handkerchief. After the
 
 BKIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 203 
 
 ants had run over it for three minutes it was so impregnated 
 with the strong, pungent vapor of formic acid that I could 
 not bring it anywhere near my face without stranghng. 
 The odor, which is that of aromatic vinegar, is rather plea- 
 
 sant if not too strong, but in excess it affects the nostrils 
 very much in the same way that ammonia affects them. 
 
 About twelve versts from the Altai Station we began to 
 catch glimpses, now and then, of the pale-gi'een glacier 
 water of the Bukhtarma, flowing through a deep wooded
 
 204 SIBEKIA 
 
 valley on our left and siio-gosting, in color and topographieal 
 onvironnK'ut, the water of the Niagara below the falls. 
 Just beyond the sixteen-f^>-5^ post we abandoned the road, 
 ;iu(l turning sharply to the left descended to the bank of the 
 river. Oajttain Maiefski had sent forward to the picnic 
 ground early that morning two Kirghis tents, a quantity of 
 rugs and pillows, and his whole house-keeping outfit ; and 
 when we arrived a most luxurious camp was in complete 
 readiness. The two tents — one of them white trimmed with 
 scarlet and the other a deep Pompeiian red — had been 
 pitched in a beautiful grassy nook beside the river; soft 
 Bokharan rugs from a Kirghis Jxihiflri had been lavishly 
 used to line and carpet them ; a polished sdmovdr was 
 steaming and singing on the grass in the shade of a droop- 
 ing birch, and columns of smoke and sparks were rising from 
 two or three cheerful camp-fires. In less than ten minutes 
 after our arrival the whole party was scattered up and down 
 the bank of the river, every one engaged in the occupation 
 that was to him most congenial. Captain Maiefski and 
 Mr. Frost, armed with long-handled nets, were rushing 
 hither and thither in pursuit of brilliantly colored but 
 erratic butterflies ; the Cossack ataman was casting a hook 
 and line into the river and landing every now and then a 
 silvery fish ; Mrs. Maiefski was superintending the prepara- 
 tions for dinner, while Mr. Zavalishin and I, having neither 
 duty nor speciality, strolled aimlessly about the neighbor- 
 hood, picking flowers, watching the Kirghis, and enjoying 
 the picturesque effect of the dark-red tent against the 
 backgi'ound of green trees, the blue curling smoke of the 
 camp-fires and the pale malachite coloring of the glacier- 
 tinted stream. 
 
 After an excellently cooked and well-served dinner of 
 soup, freshly caught fish, roast lamb, boiled mutton, cold 
 chicken, pilau of rice with raisins, strawberries and confec- 
 tionery, we spent a long and delightful afternoon in bot- 
 anizing, fishing, rifle-shooting, catching butterflies, telling
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 205 
 
 riddles and singiiig songs. It was, I think, the most pleasant 
 and successful picnic that I ever had the good fortune to 
 enjoy, and when, late in the afternoon, Mr. Frost and I bade 
 the party good-by, I am sure we both secretly wished that 
 
 
 "W 
 
 we could stay there in camp for a week instead of going to 
 the Katunski Alps. 
 
 We spent that night at the little Cossack picket of Jingis- 
 tai, which consisted of two newly built log houses situated 
 in the shallow, flower-carpeted valley of the Bukhtarma,
 
 l.>tl(; SIBERIA 
 
 altout tliirty rersfs from the Altai Station. The Cossack 
 family that coiistitntod tlie "picket" occupied only one of 
 the houses, and we therefore bivouacked in the other. Oar 
 sleeping apartment contained no furniture of any kind, its 
 windows were mere rectangular openings in the wall with- 
 out sashes or glass, and we were forced to make our beds 
 on tlu^ rough-hewn planks of the floor; but the room was 
 tillrd with the faint, clean fragrance of pine shavings and 
 spruce boards, the air that came in through the sashless 
 windows was fresh from the flowery slopes of the hills, and 
 we slept as soundly and awoke as much refreshed as if we 
 had lain on couches of rose petals in the palace of the Tsar. 
 
 Tuesday, July 28th, we continued our ride up the valley 
 of the Bukhtarma in the general dii-ection of the Katiinski 
 Alps. The snowy range of the Great Altai could no longer 
 be seen from the trail, and we did not catch a single glimpse 
 that day of the group of colossal peaks at the source of the 
 Katun ; but the scenery through which we rode was, never- 
 theless, beautiful and picturesque. The high rolling foot- 
 hills which formed the sides of the valley, and which con- 
 cealed the peaks of the main range, were endlessly varied 
 in outline and coloring ; the valley itself was full of park- 
 like openings and sunny glades where the soft green carpet 
 of turf was sprinkled with violets, pansies, and forget-me- 
 nots ; and every verst or two a clear rushing stream came 
 tumbling down across the trail from a melting snow-field 
 in some deep shaded glen high up among the hills. 
 
 Early in the afternoon we reached a small Cossack village 
 called Arul, about thirty versts from Jingistai, and went 
 to the house of the ataman to present our order for fresh 
 horses. The atammi's son, a good-looking young fellow of 
 twenty-two or three, soon made his appearance in full uni- 
 form, and said that his father, for whom we had inquired, 
 was making hay on the mountain-side about twelve versts 
 away, but that he would send for him if it was " shipka 
 nuzhni " [awful necessary]. We replied that we must have
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 207 
 
 horses to continue our journey, and that if we could not 
 get them without an order from the ataman., the ataman 
 must be summoned. The young man, thereupon, saddled 
 a horse and galloped away down the valley. While wait- 
 
 ing for his return we refreshed ourselves with bread and 
 tea, and Mr, Frost made the sketch of the village that is 
 reproduced on this page. The ataman arrived in about an 
 hour and a half. He proved to be an officer of intelligence 
 and energy, and procured the necessary horses and a guide 
 for us at once. The distance from Arul to the Cossack
 
 20S SIBERIA 
 
 villaj^c of Berel, where we expected to leave the valley of 
 tlio Hi'ikhtarinA, was only about twenty rersts^ and the road 
 lay, as before, along the river. The foothills that bounded 
 it were higher and steeper than in the part of the valley 
 through whieh we had passed, and here and there, along 
 their bases, were enormous masses of loose rocks and boul- 
 ders which looked as if they might have been brought down 
 into the valley by tremendous avalanches or landslides. 
 Ahout half-past four o'clock we crossed, on rude corduroy 
 bridges, two or three turbid, milky arms of the Bukhtarma 
 River, and rode into the little hamlet of Berel — the most 
 remote Russian settlement in that part of the Altai and the 
 settlement where we expected to make our final arrange- 
 ments for the long and ditficult ride across the mountains 
 to the Katunski Alps. 
 
 The Cossack atamdn at the Altai Station had given us a 
 letter of introduction to one of his acquaintances in Berel— 
 a peasant farmer named Bielaiisof — and we therefore went 
 directly to the latter's house. He proved to be an intelli- 
 gent man, fifty-five or sixty years of age, and an excellent 
 type of the hardy Siberian pioneers who seek to escape 
 from the burdensome restraints of government by migra- 
 tion to remote and unexplored regions. He was a noncon- 
 formist in religion, and had come to this wild corner of the 
 Altai partly to enjoy freedom of religious worship and 
 partly to find, if possible, the mythical Bielovodye or unin- 
 habited land of peace and plenty which certain Russian 
 dissenters believe to exist somewhere on the Mongolian 
 frontier in the far East. He had not found the Siberian 
 Eden which was the main object of his quest, but he had 
 found the valley of the Bukhtarma, and, tempted by its 
 beauty and fertility, he had l)uilt a log house for himself 
 at the intersection of the Bukhtarma River and the Berel 
 and in course of time had become prosperous and contented 
 as a peasant farmer and a breeder of the mardl or great Al- 
 tai deer [Cervus elephas]. The horns of the mardJ^ when
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 209 
 
 at that stage of development known as " in the velvet," are 
 believed by the Chinese to have peculiar medicinal proper- 
 ties, and are very highly prized. Chinese traders go in 
 search of them to the remotest parts of the Altai and some- 
 times offer for them as much as four dollars a pound, or a 
 hundred dollars for a single pair of large antlers. Bielali- 
 sof had succeeded in capturing fifteen or twenty of these 
 deer, and had shut them up in an extensive park, made by 
 putting a nine-foot fence around a whole mountain so as* 
 to inclose a range almost as extensive as the animals would 
 have had in a state of freedom. From the sale of the 
 horns of the stags he derived every year an income of six 
 or eight hundred dollars, which, with the proceeds of his 
 farm, enabled him to live in more than ordinary comfort. 
 We spent in Berel only one night. Before we went to 
 bed Tuesday evening we had engaged one of Bielalisof's 
 nephews to accompany us in the capacity of guide, had 
 hired a second man to assist him in making camp, had 
 procured the necessary number of horses, and were virtually 
 ready to start. Wednesday morning at nine o'clock the 
 whole population of Berel — about fifty souls — assembled 
 in front of Bielaiisof's house to see the cavalcade get under 
 way. Mikhaiel, the guide, a stout, chubby-faced young 
 fellow, with tangled masses of yellow hair faUing over his 
 shoulders, had arrayed himself in a traveling suit of extra- 
 ordinary chromatic brilliancy, and was the admired of all 
 beholders. His cotton shirt, which he wore outside his 
 breeches like a tunic, was of a gory crimson, whose sug- 
 gestions of bloodshed were relieved to some extent by a 
 pattern of big yellow harps; his loose buckskin trousers 
 were embroidered with bouquets of scarlet roses and huge 
 orange sunflowers, and the brim of his antiquated chimney- 
 pot hat had been turned up in piratical fashion on one side 
 and fastened to the crown with round buttons of colored 
 glass. His assistant, Nikolai, had on yellow buckskin 
 trousers embroidered with Patagonian cactuses and a cot- 
 14
 
 210 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 ton shirt ot dcvp iiulig'o blue. Our provisions, consisting 
 of toa. suirar, broad, two le^s of mutton, and a little honey, 
 
 ASCICNT OF THE MOLNTAIN FKU.M BEREL. 
 
 were packed in capacious, antediluvian saddle-bags; our 
 brushes, soajj, towels, sponges, and spare underclothing
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 211 
 
 were wrapped up in our blankets and securely lashed be- 
 hind our saddles ; and we sat on our pillows. The horses 
 that had been provided for our use did not look very prom- 
 ising at first sight, but I knew that the good qualities of a 
 Kirghis horse are not to be discovered by simple inspection, 
 and I accepted Mikhaiel's assurance that they were hardy, 
 sure-footed, and accustomed to mountain paths. About 
 half-past nine o'clock everything was said to be ready, and 
 cHmbing into our high, short-stirruped saddles we rode 
 solemnly in single file out of the settlement. There was 
 a faint cheer from the more youthful half of the assembled 
 crowd as we got under way, but Frost and I did not claim 
 for ourselves, or for our horsemanship, any of the popular 
 enthusiasm thus manifested. We knew very well that it 
 was inspired by the golden harps on the crimson "tunic of 
 the yellow-haired Mikhaiel, and the Patagonian cactuses 
 that blossomed all over the orange legs of the indigo-shir ted 
 Nikolai. 
 
 After having forded one of the milky channels of the 
 Berel River we climbed slowly for two hours in short zigzags 
 up a steep Kirghis trail that led to the summit of an im- 
 mense mound-shaped foothill behind the village. As we 
 ascended, the whole magnificent amphitheater of snow-clad 
 mountains at the head of the Bukhtarma valley opened on 
 our right, and a long line of sharp white peaks that we had 
 not before seen appeared on the southern side of the Bukh- 
 tarma along the boundary line of Mongolia. Everywhere 
 to the northward and eastward snowy mountains were 
 piled on snowy mountains until there seemed to be no pos- 
 sibility of crossing or piercing the tremendous alpine barrier. 
 On the summit of the mound-shaped foothill, two or three 
 thousand feet above Berel, we found half a dozen Kirghis 
 Jiihitkas, pitched here and there among immense glacial 
 boulders and surrounded by flocks of Kirghis sheep and 
 goats. As the summer advances and the vegetation begins 
 to dry up in the lower Altai valleys, the Kirghis are accus-
 
 212 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 tonioil to drive their floeks and herds to the crests of the 
 foothills wliere the p-ass is still fresh and green. In the 
 latter part oi' Jnl\-, tluMvfore, they may be found encamped 
 
 high up in the mountains, and often in the most beautiful, 
 picturesque, and commanding situations. From the aiil of 
 the Berel Kirghis we could look out over a perfect ocean of 
 foothills and could trace the snowy range of the Great Altai 
 for a distance of a hundred miles.
 
 BEIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 213 
 
 After stopping for a few moments at the Kirghis encamp- 
 ment and making some inquiries with regard to the con- 
 dition of the trail from there to the Rakmanofski hot 
 springs, we tightened our saddle-girths and plunged into 
 the wilderness of steep foothills and wild ravines that lies 
 between the headwaters of the Biikhtarma and the head- 
 waters of the Katun. The northern slope of the mountain 
 upon which the Kirghis encampment stood was much barer, 
 bleaker, and more rocky than the slope that we had as- 
 cended. The yellow flowers that had given a sunny and 
 cheerful glow to the latter suddenly disappeared, and their 
 places were taken by a star-like purple blossom growing in 
 long, slender spikes, and a very striking and showy species 
 of dark-blue campanula. At the same time a new kind of 
 shrub with silvery-gray leaves made its appearance, and 
 grew so abundantly among the rocks as to change the 
 whole tone of the landscape. I cannot remember to have 
 seen in any other i^art of the world so sharp and sudden a 
 transition from one aspect of nature to another under the 
 very same atmospheric conditions. The northern exposure, 
 the hoary, lichen-stained rocks, the dark-purple flowers, 
 and the cool, silvery-gray foliage of the sage-like shrubs 
 gave me the impression of a landscape seen by moonlight. 
 
 Soon after leaving the Kirghis encampment we crossed 
 for the first time in Siberia the terminal moraine of an ex- 
 tinct glacier. It was an immense mass of loose rocks and 
 boulders of all shapes and sizes thrown together in the 
 wildest confusion, and extending far up and down one of 
 the lateral ravines. At the point where we crossed it, it 
 seemed to me to be at least an eighth of a mile wide, and it 
 presented obstacles that brought out all the best qualities 
 of our Kirghis horses. They made their way over the 
 loose slabs and boulders with the judgment and agility of 
 mountain sheep, rarely slipping, and, when they did slip, 
 recovering their foothold without the least nervousness or 
 excitement.
 
 214 SIBERIA 
 
 Latt> ill \]w afternoon, after a very difficult and fatiguing 
 ji)urnoy of twoiity-five or thirty rersfs, we rode two or three 
 thiMisaiid feet down a slii)]»ery, l)reak-neck descent into the 
 
 deep valley of the Rakmanofski hot springs, where, shut in 
 by high mountains and framed in greenery and flowers, we 
 found a beautiful alpine lake. The medicinal properties of
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 215 
 
 the water that flows from the Rakmauofski springs attract 
 to this beautiful secluded valley every summer many 
 Russians and Klrghis from the neighboring villages and 
 encampments, and there have been erected for their accom- 
 modation two comfortable log buildings, and a small spring- 
 house with three bathing-tanks. In the larger of the 
 buildings, which had a well-built Russian oven, w^e stopped 
 for the night. The ceiling and walls of the room that we 
 occupied bore many names and inscriptions in French, 
 Russian, and Tatar, among which I noticed "N. Yadrint- 
 soff, 16 Aoute, 1880";^ " ^Qad. Banikof, VI 22, 1885"; and 
 " M. T. Zheleiznikof, Semipalatinsk, 5 June, 1885." On the 
 partition wall over the rude plank bench where Mr. Frost 
 made his bed, some sufferer who, apparently, had come with 
 weak faith to the springs in the hope of being cured had 
 inscribed carefully in large, well-formed capital letters the 
 words, " Lord, I beheve, help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 The hot springs oozed out from under two or three piles 
 of what seemed to be small glacial boulders, over which 
 devout Russians had placed wooden crosses, and devout 
 Kirghis had hung colored fragments from their shirts and 
 trousers. The water from these springs was collected a 
 short distance below in small vats or tanks in the spring- 
 house, so that sufferers from rheumatism or cutaneous disease 
 might be able to soak themselves in it under shelter. It 
 was remarkably clear and bright in appearance, but had a 
 peculiar soapy, slippery feeling, that suggested the presence 
 of soda or borax. According to the Russian chemist Haller, 
 who has made an analysis of it, it very closely resembles 
 the water of the famous springs at Carlsbad. Its tempera- 
 ture in the tanks was 104° Fahrenheit. 
 
 When we awoke Thursday morning rain was falling 
 heavily, and horseback travel in such a country was evi- 
 dently out of the question. The storm continued, with an 
 
 1 Mr. Yddrintsoff is the editor of the Eastern Review in Irkutsk and a well- 
 known author, explorer, and anthropologist.
 
 216 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 occasional brief intermission, for two days; but on the 
 morning i>f the tliird the weather finally cleared up and, 
 ^vithout'" waiting for the mountain slopes to become dry, we 
 saddled onr liorses and went on. 
 
 The last sixty versts of our journey were made with great 
 difficulty and much peril, our route lying across tremend- 
 ous mountain ridges and deep valleys with almost precipi- 
 tous sides, into which we descended by following the course
 
 BEIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 217 
 
 of foaming moiiutaiu torrents, or clambering down the 
 moraines of extinct glaciers, over great heaj)ed-up masses 
 of loose, broken rocks, through swamps, tangled jungles of 
 laurel bushes and fallen trees, and down slopes so steep 
 that it was almost impossible to throw one's body far enough 
 back to keep one's balance in the saddle. Half the time 
 our horses were sliding on all four feet, and dislodging 
 stones which rolled or bounded for half a mile downward, 
 until they were dashed to pieces over tremendous preci- 
 pices. I was not wholly inexperienced in mountain travel, 
 having ridden on horseback the whole length of the moun- 
 tainous peninsula of Kamchatka, and crossed three times the 
 great range of the Caucasus, once at a height of twelve 
 thousand feet ; but I must confess that during our descents 
 into the valleys of the Rakmanofski, the Black Berel, the 
 White Berel, and the Katun, my heart was in my mouth for 
 hours at a time. On any other horses than those of the Kir- 
 ghis such descents would have been utterly impossible. My 
 horse fell with me once, but I was not hurt. The region 
 through which we passed is a primeval wilderness, traversed 
 only by the Biko-Jcdmenoi Kirghis, or " Kirghis of the Wild 
 Rocks," and abounding in game. We saw mardls, wolves, 
 wild sheep, and many fresh trails made by bears in the 
 long grass of the valley bottoms ; we chased wild goats, and 
 might have shot hundreds of partridges, grouse, ducks, 
 geese, eagles, and cranes. The flora of the lower mountain 
 valleys was extremely rich, varied, and luxuriant, comprising 
 beautiful wild pansies of half a dozen varieties and colors, 
 fringed pinks, spirea, two species of gentian, wild holly- 
 hocks, daisies, forget-me-nots, alpine roses, trollius, wild 
 poppies, and scores of other flowers that I had never before 
 seen, many of them very large, brilliant, and showy. 
 Among plants and fruits that with us are domesticated, but 
 that in the Altai grow wild, I noticed rhubarb, celery, red 
 currants, black currants, gooseberries, raspberries, straw- 
 berries, blackberries, wild cherries, crab-apples, and wild
 
 21S 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 api-ii'ots. Most of the berries were rijie, or nearly ripe, and 
 the ^vila currants were as large and abundant as in an 
 American irarden. The scenery was extremely wild and 
 
 Mif^S^» III "I "^v li ■ 
 
 DESCI.NT INK) TIIL A \LL1 \ Ol TIIL WHUL BEREL. 
 
 grand, surpassing, at times, anything that I had seen in 
 the Caucasus. 
 
 On Saturday, August 1st, we reached the foot of the last 
 gi*eat ridge, or water-shed, which separated us from the 
 main chain of the Katiinski Alps, and camped for the night
 
 BEIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 219 
 
 in a high mountain valley beside the White Berel, a milky 
 stream which runs out from under a great glacier a few 
 miles higher up. The air was clear and frosty, but we built 
 a big camp-fire and managed to get through the night with- 
 out much discomfort. Sunday morning we chmbed about 
 two thousand feet to the summit of the last ridge, and looked 
 over into the wild valley of the Katiin, out of which rise 
 the " Katunski Pillars," the highest peaks of the Russian 
 
 i~i \N I vif;\v of jiii: kaLln^ki ai.i'^. 
 
 Altai. I was prepared, to a certain extent, for grandeur of 
 scenery, because I had already caught glimpses of these 
 peaks two or three times, at distances varying from twenty- 
 five to eighty miles ; but the near view, from the heights 
 above the Katun, so far surpassed all my anticipations that 
 I was simply overawed. I hardly know how to describe it 
 without using language that will seem exaggerated. The 
 word that oftenest rises to my lips when I think of it is 
 "tremendous." It was not beautiful, it was not pictur-
 
 220 SIBERIA 
 
 esque; it was tronieiulous and overwhelming^. The nar- 
 row valley, or gorge, of the Katun, whieli lay almost un- 
 der our feet, was between 2000 and 3000 feet deep. On 
 the other side of it rose, far above our heads, the wild, 
 mighty ehain of the Katunski Alps, culminating just oppo- 
 site us in two tremendous snowy peaks whose height I 
 estimated at 15,000 feet.' They were white from base to 
 summit, except where the snow was broken by great black 
 precipices, or pierced by sharp, rocky spines, or aiguilles. 
 Down the sides of these peaks, from vast fields of neve 
 above, fell seven immense glaciers, the largest of them 
 descending from the saddle between the twin summits in 
 a series of ice falls for at least 4000 feet. The glacier on 
 the extreme right had an almost perpendicular ice fall 
 of 1200 or 1500 feet, and the glacier on the extreme left 
 save birth to a torrent which tumbled about 800 feet, 
 with a hoarse roar, into the deep narrow gorge. The latter 
 glacier was longitudinally divided by three moraines, which 
 looked from our point of view like long, narrow, A-shaped 
 dumps of furnace slag or fine coal dust, but which were 
 in reality composed of black rocks, from the size of one's 
 head to the size of a freight car, and extended four or five 
 miles, with a width of 300 feet and a height of from 50 to 
 75 feet above the general level of the glacier. The ex- 
 treme summits of the two highest peaks were more than 
 half of the time hidden in clouds ; but this rather added to 
 than detracted from the wild grandeur of the scene, by 
 giving mystery to the origin of the enormous glaciers, which 
 at such times seemed to the imagination to be tumbling 
 down from unknown heights in the sky through masses of 
 rolling vapor. All the time there came up to us from the 
 depths of the gorge the hoarse roar of the waterfall, and 
 with it blended, now and then, the deeper thunder of the 
 
 1 Captain Mai^fski's estimate of their nor measured, aud I do not even know 
 height was 18,000 feet above the sea the height above the sea of the valley 
 level. They have never been climbed bottom from which they rise.
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 221 
 
 great glaciers, as masses of ice gave way aod settled into 
 new jDositions in the ice falls. This thundering of the 
 glaciers continued for nearly a minute at a time, varying in 
 intensity, and resembling occasionally the sound of a distant 
 
 but heavy and rapid cannonade. No movement of the ice 
 in the falls was perceptible to the eye from the point at 
 which we stood, but the sullen, rumbling thunder was evi- 
 dence enough of the mighty force of the agencies which 
 were at work before us.
 
 222 SIBEKIA 
 
 After lookiiii;- at the iiioniitains for half an hour, we 
 turnod our attention to the valley of the Katiin beneath 
 us, witli tlie \ie\v to aseertain whether it would be possible 
 to got down into it and reaeli the foot of the main glacier, 
 whieh gave birth to the Katun Kiver. Mr. Frost declared 
 tlie descent to be utterly impracticable, and almost lost 
 patience with me because I insisted upon the guides trying 
 it. "Anybody can see," he said, "that this slope ends in a 
 big precipice ; and even if we get our horses down there, we 
 never can get them up again. It is foolish to think of such 
 a thing." I had seen enough, however, of Kirghis horses 
 to feel great confidence in their climbing abilities ; and al- 
 though the descent did look very dangerous, I was by no 
 means satisfied that it was utterly impracticable. While we 
 were discussing the question, our guide was making a bold 
 and practical attempt to solve it. We could no longer see 
 him from where we stood, but every now and then a stone 
 or small boulder, dislodged by his horse's feet, would leap 
 suddenly into sight 300 or 400 feet below us, and go crash- 
 ing down the mountain side, clearing 200 feet at every 
 bound, and finally dashing itself to pieces against the rocks 
 at the bottom, with a noise like the distant rattling dis- 
 charge of musketry. Our guide was evidently making pro- 
 gress. In a few moments he came into sight on a bold, rocky 
 buttress about six hundred feet below us and shouted cheer- 
 fully, " Come on ! This is nothing ! You could get down 
 here with a telega!'''' Inasmuch as one could hardly look 
 down there without getting dizzy, this was rather a hyper- 
 bolical statement of the possibilities of the case ; but it had 
 the effect of silencing Mr. Frost, who took his horse by the 
 bridle and followed me down the mountain in cautious zig- 
 zags, while I kept as nearly as I could in the track of our 
 leader. At the buttress the guide tightened my forward 
 and after saddle-girths until my horse groaned and grunted 
 an inarticulate protest, and I climbed again into the saddle. 
 It seemed to me safer, on the whole, to ride down than to
 
 BEIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 223 
 
 try to walk down leciding my horse, since in the latter case 
 he was constantly sliding upon me, or dislodging loose 
 stones which threatened to knock my legs from under me 
 and launch me into space like a projectile from a catapult. 
 The first hundred feet of the descent were very bad. It was 
 
 THE DKSCENT INTO THE (ioRGE OF THE I 
 
 almost impossible to keep in the saddle on account of the 
 steepness of the incline, and once I just escaped being 
 pitched over my horse's head at the end of one of his short 
 slides. We finally reached a very steep but grassy slope, like 
 the side of a titanic embankment, down which we zigzagged, 
 with much discomfort but without any danger, to the
 
 •).J4 SIBERIA 
 
 hoUom of the Katun valley. As we rode towards tli(^ great 
 peaks, and tinally, leaving our horses, climbed up on the 
 prineipal glacier, I saw how greatly we had underestimated 
 distances, heights, and magnitudes, from the elevated 
 
 position which we had previously occupied. The Katiin 
 Eiver, which, from above, had looked like a narrow, dirty 
 white ribbon that a child could step across, proved to be a 
 toiTent thirty or forty feet wide, with a current almost deep 
 and strong enough to sweep away a horse and rider. The 
 main glacier, which I had taken to be about three hundred
 
 BRIDLE PATHS OF THE ALTAI 
 
 225 
 
 feet wide, proved to have a width of more than half a mile; 
 and its central moraine, which had looked to me like a strip 
 of black sand piled up to the height of six or seven feet like 
 a long furnace dump, proved to be an enormous mass of 
 
 gigantic rocks, three or four miles long, and from 300 to 
 400 feet wide, piled up on the glacier in places to the height 
 of 75 feet. Mr. Frost estimated the width of this glacier at 
 two-thirds of a mile, and the extreme height of the moraine 
 at 100 feet. 
 15
 
 •Jl'(; SIBERIA 
 
 I took tlio photojiTaphic apparatus, and in the course of 
 an hour and an lialf sueeeeded in ('limV)ing up the central 
 nioraini' about two miles towards the foot of the great iee 
 fall; l»ul hy that time 1 was tired out and dripping with 
 perspiration. I passed many wide crevasses into which 
 were running streams of water from the surface of the 
 glacier ; and judging from the duration of the sound made 
 by stones that I dropped into some of them, they must have 
 had a depth of a hundred feet, perhaps much more. This 
 was only one of eleven glaciers that I counted from the 
 sunnnit of the high ridge which divides the water-shed of 
 the Irtish from that of the Ob. Seven glaciers descend 
 from the two main peaks alone. 
 
 We spent all the remainder of the day in sketching, 
 taking photographs, and climbing about the glacier and the 
 valley, and late in the afternoon returned to our camp in 
 the valley of the White Berel. That night — the 2d of 
 August — was even colder than the preceding one. Ice 
 formed to the thickness of more than a quarter of an inch 
 in our tea-kettle, and my blankets and pillow, when I got 
 up in the morning, were covered with thick white frost. 
 
 Monday we made another excursion to the summit of the 
 ridge that overlooks the valley of the Katun, and succeeded 
 in getting a good photograj)h of the tw^o big peaks, against 
 a background of cloudless sky. Our little instrument, of 
 course, could not take in a quarter of the mighty landscape, 
 and what it did take in it reduced to so small a scale that 
 all of the grandeur and majesty of the mountains was lost ; 
 but it was a satisfaction to feel that we could carry away 
 something that would suggest and recall to us in later years 
 the suV)limity of that wonderful alpine picture. 
 
 Monday noon we broke camp and started for the Rak- 
 manofski hot springs ; and on the 5th of August, after an 
 absence of ten days, we returned to the Altai Station.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 
 
 FEW pages in my Siberian note-books are more sugges- 
 tive of pleasant sensations and experiences tlian the 
 pages that record the incidents of our life in the mountains 
 of the Altai. As I now turn over the flower-stained leaves 
 dated "Altai Station, August 5, 1885," every feature of that 
 picturesque Cossack village comes back to me so vividly 
 that, if for a moment I close my eyes, I seem to hear again 
 the musical plash and tinkle of the clear, cold streams that 
 tumble through its streets; to see again the magnificent 
 amphitheater of flower-tinted slopes and snowy peaks that 
 encircles it ; and to breathe once more the fresh, perfumed 
 air of the green alpine meadow upon which it stands. If 
 the object of our Siberian journey had been merely enjoy- 
 ment, I think we should have remained at the Altai Station 
 all summer ; since neither in Siberia nor in any other coun- 
 try could we have hoj)ed to find a more delightful place for 
 a summer vacation. The pure mountain air was as fra- 
 grant and exhilarating as if it had been compounded of 
 perfume and ozone ; the beauty and luxuriance of the flora 
 were a never-failing source of pleasure to the eye;^ the 
 clear, cold mountain streams were full of fish ; elk, argali, 
 wild goats, bears, foxes, and wolves were to be found by 
 an enterprising hunter in the wooded ravines and the high 
 mountain valleys south of the station; troops of Kirghis 
 
 1 I brought back with me from the Altdi an herbarium consisting of nearly a 
 thousand species of flowering plants. 
 
 227
 
 228 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 horsemen were ready to escort us to the Mongolian boun- 
 dary post, to the beautiful alpine lake of Marka Kul, or to 
 tlie wild, unexplored fastnesses of the Chinese Altai; and 
 Captain Maiefski, the hospitable commandant of the post; 
 tempted us to prolong our stay, by promising to organize 
 for us all sorts of delightful excursions and expeditions. 
 The season of good weather and good roads, however, 
 
 was rapidly passing ; and if we 
 hoped to reach the mines of 
 Kara before winter should set 
 in, we had not a day to spare. 
 It was already the first week 
 in August, and a distance of 
 2500 miles lay between us and 
 the head- waters of the Amur. 
 
 Our next objective point was 
 the city of Tomsk, distant from 
 the Altai Station about 750 
 miles. In order to reach it we 
 should be obliged to return 
 over a part of the road that 
 we had already traversed, and 
 to descend the Irtish as far as 
 the station of Pianoyarof skaya. 
 At that point the road to Tomsk 
 leaves the Semipalatinsk road, 
 and runs northward through the great Altai mining district 
 and the city of Barnaiil. There were two colonies of political 
 exiles on our route — one of them at the Cossack station of 
 Ulbinsk, 160 miles from the Altai Station, and the other in 
 the town of Ust Kamenogorsk. In each of these places, 
 therefore, we purposed to make a short stay. 
 
 On the morning of Thursday, August 6th, we packed our 
 baggage in the tdrantds, ordered horses from the post 
 station, took breakfast for the last time wdth Captain Maief- 
 ski and his wife, whose kindness and warm-hearted hospi- 
 
 EOCTE FROM THE AI.tAi STATION 
 TO TOMSK.
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 229 
 
 tality had made their house seem to us like a home, and 
 after drinking to the health of all our Altai friends, and 
 bidding everybody good-by three or four times, we rode 
 reluctantly out of the beautiful alpine village and began 
 oui' descent to the plains of the Irtish. 
 
 It is not necessary to describe our journey down the 
 valley of the Biikhtarma and across the gray, sterile steppes 
 of the upper Irtish. It was simply a reversal of the expe- 
 rience through which we had passed in approaching the 
 Altai Station three weeks before. Then we were climbing 
 from the desert into the alps, while now we were descending 
 from the alps to the desert. 
 
 At six o'clock Friday afternoon we reached the settlement 
 of Bukhtarma, w^here the Irtish pierces a great outlying 
 spur of the Altai chain, and where the road to Ust Kame- 
 nogorsk leaves the river and makes a long detour into the 
 mountains. No horses were obtainable at the post station; 
 the weather looked threatening; the road to Alexandrof- 
 skaya was said to be in bad condition owing to recent rains ; 
 and we had great difficulty in finding a peasant with "free" 
 horses who was willing to take our heavy tdrantds up the 
 steep, miry mountain road on what promised to be a dark 
 and stormy night. With the cooperation of the station 
 master, however, we found at last a man who was ready, 
 for a suitable consideration, to make the attempt, and about 
 an hour before dark we left Bukhtarma for Alexandrofskaya 
 with four " free " horses. We soon had occasion to regret 
 that we had not taken the advice of our driver to stop at 
 Bukhtarma for the night and cross the mountains by day- 
 light. The road was worse than any neglected wood-road 
 in the mountains of West Virginia; and before we had 
 made half the distance to Alexandrofskaya, night came on, 
 with a violent storm accompanied by lightning, thunder, and 
 heavy rain. Again and again we lost the road in the dark- 
 ness ; two or three times we became almoi?t hopelessly 
 mired in bogs and sloughs ; and finally our tdrantds capsized,
 
 2[\0 SIBERIA 
 
 or partly capsized, into a deep ditcli or gully worn out in 
 the mountain-side by falling water. The driver shouted, 
 rursod, and lashed his dispirited horses, while Mr. Frost 
 and 1 explored the gully with lighted wisps of hay, and 
 lifted, tugged, and pulled at the heavy vehicle until we were 
 tired out, drenched witli i-ain, and covered from head to foot 
 with mud ; but all our eft'orts were fruitless. The tdrantds 
 could not be extricated. From this predicament we were 
 tinally rescued by the drivers of three or four telegas, who 
 left Biikhtarma with the mail shortly after our departure 
 and who overtook us Just at the time when their services 
 were most needed. With theu' aid we righted the capsized 
 vehicle, set it again on the road, and proceeded. The lightly 
 loaded telegas soon left us behind, and knowing that we 
 could expect no more help from that source, and that 
 another capsize would probably end our travel for the 
 night, I walked ahead of our horses in the miry road for 
 half or three-quarters of an hour, holding up a white hand- 
 kerchief at arm's-length for the guidance of our driver, and 
 shouting directions and warnings to him whenever it seemed 
 necessary. Tired, at last, of wading through mud in Cim- 
 merian darkness, and ascertaining the location of holes, 
 sloughs, and rocks by tumbling into or over them, I climbed 
 back into the tdrantds and wrapped myself up in a wet 
 blanket, with the determination to trust to luck. In less 
 than fifteen minutes our vehicle was again on its side in 
 another deep gully. After making a groping investigation 
 by the sense of touch, we decided that the situation this 
 time was hopeless. There was nothing to be done but to 
 send the driver on horseback in search of help, and to get 
 through the night as best we could where we were. It was 
 then about eleven o'clock. The wind had abated, but the 
 rain was still falling, and the intense darkness was relieved 
 only by an occasional flash of lightning. Cold, tired, and 
 liungry, we "crawled into our capsized vehicle, which still 
 afforded us some little shelter from the rain, and sat there
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 
 
 231 
 
 in sleepless discomfort until morning. Just before daylight 
 our driver returned with a Cossack from Alexandrofskaya, 
 
 COMING Dl- THE ALEXANDr6fSKAYA-SEIVERNAYA RAVINE. 
 
 bringing lanterns, ropes, crowbars, and fresh horses, and 
 with these helps and appliances we succeeded in righting the 
 tdrantds and dragging it back to the road.
 
 jnil SIBEKIA 
 
 AVo voju'hod Aloxandrofskaya in tlio gray light of early 
 (lawn, and after drinking tea and sleeping two hours on the 
 floor of the post station, we resumed our journey with eight 
 liorsos and three drivers. The road from Alexandrofskaya 
 to Seivernaya runs for five or six miles up the steep, wild 
 ravine that is shown in the illustration on page 231. 
 It then erosses a series of high, bare ridges running gen- 
 erally at right angles to the course of the Irtish, and finally 
 descends, through another deep, precipitous ravine, into 
 the valley of Ulbinsk, which it follows to Ust Kameno- 
 gorsk. The mountains which compose this spur, or out- 
 lying branch, of the Altai system are not high, but, as will 
 be seen from the illustration on page 235, they are pictur- 
 esque and effective in outlining and grouping, and. are 
 separated one from another by extremely beautiful valleys 
 and ra\'ines. 
 
 Owing to the bad condition of the roads and the moun- 
 tainous nature of the country, we were more than ten hours 
 in making the nineteen miles between Seivernaya and Ul- 
 binsk, although we had eight horses on the first stretch 
 and five on the second. The slowness of our progress gave 
 us an opportunity to walk now and then, and to make col- 
 lections of flowers, and we kept the tdrantds decorated all 
 day wdth goldenrod, wild hollyhocks, long blue spikes of 
 monk's-hood, and leafy branches of zMmolost or Tatar 
 honeysuckle, filled with showy scarlet or yellow berries. 
 
 Late Saturday afternoon, as the sun was sinking behind 
 the western hills, we rode at a brisk trot down the long, 
 beautiful ravine that leads into the valley of the Ulba, and 
 before dark we were sitting comfortably in the neat wait- 
 ing-room of the Ulbinsk post station, refreshing ourselves 
 with bread and milk and raspberries. 
 
 Among the political exiles living in Ulbinsk at that time 
 were Alexander L. Blok, a young law student from the city 
 of Saratof on the Volga ; Apollo Karelin, the son of a well- 
 known photographer in Nizhni Novgorod ; Seiverin Gross,
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 
 
 233 
 
 a young lawyer from the province of Kovno, and Mr. Vitort, 
 a technologist from Riga. 
 
 Mr. Karelin had been accompanied to Siberia by his 
 wife, but the others were, I believe, unmarried. I had 
 
 THE ULBfNSK RAVINE. 
 
 learned the names, and something of the histories, of these 
 exiles from the politicals in Semipalatinsk, and there were 
 several reasons why I particularly wished to see them and 
 to make their acquaintance. I had an idea that perhaps 
 the politicals in Semipalatinsk were above the average 
 level of administrative exiles in intelligence and education
 
 234 SIBERIA 
 
 —that thoy were uiiusiuiUy favorable specimens of their 
 
 ^.jass, aiul it seemed to me not improbable that in the 
 
 wilder and remoter parts of Western Siberia I should find 
 types that would correspond more nearly to the conception 
 of nihilists that I had formed in America. 
 
 Before we had been in the village an hour, two of the 
 exiles— Messrs. Blok and Gross— called upon us and intro- 
 duced themselves. Mr. Blok won my heart from the very 
 first. He was a man twenty-six or twenty-eight years of 
 age, of medium height and athletic figure, with light-brown 
 hair, blue eyes, and a beardless but strong and resolute 
 face, which seemed to me to express intelligence, earnest- 
 ness, and power in every line. It was, in the very best sense 
 of the word, a ^700^ face, and I could no more help liking and 
 trusting it than I could help breathing. Marcus Aurelius 
 somewhere says, with coarse vigor of expression, that "a 
 man who is honest and good ought to be exactly like a 
 man who smells strong, so that the bystander, as soon as 
 he comes near, must smell, whether he choose or not." Mr. 
 Blok's honesty and goodness seemed to me to be precisely 
 of this kind, and I found myself regarding him with friendly 
 sympathy, and almost with affection, long before I could 
 assign any reason for so doing. Mr. Gross was a rather 
 handsome man, perhaps thirty years of age, with brown 
 hair, full beard and mustache, gray eyes, and clearly cut, 
 regular features. He talked in an eager, animated way, 
 with an affectionate, caressing modulation of the voice, and 
 had a habit of unconsciously opening his eyes a little more 
 widely than usual as an expression of interest or emotion. 
 Both of the young men were university graduates; both 
 spoke French and German, and Mr. Gross read English; 
 both were particularly interested in questions of political 
 economy, and either of them might have been taken for a 
 young professor, or a post-graduate student, in the Johns 
 Hopkins University. I had not talked with them an hour 
 before I became satisfied that in intellig:ence and culture
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 
 
 235 
 
 they were fully abreast of the Semipalatinsk exiles, and 
 that I should have to look for the wild, fanatical nihilists 
 of my imagination in some part of Siberia more remote 
 than Ulbinsk. 
 
 We talked in the post station until about nine o'clock, 
 and then, at Mr. Blok's suggestion, made a round of calls 
 
 TUE VALLEV OF ULBlNSlv. 
 
 upon the other political exiles in the village. They were 
 all living in wi^etehedly furnished log houses rented from 
 the Ulbinsk Cossacks, and were surrounded by unmistak- 
 able evidences of hardship, privation, and straitened circum- 
 stances ; but they seemed to be trying to make the best of 
 their situation, and I cannot remember to have heard any- 
 where that night a l)itter complaint or a single reference tt)
 
 •_);U» SIBEIUA 
 
 personal oxpovienee tliat seemed to be made for the purpose 
 of exeiting our sympathy. If they suffered, they bore their 
 sutfering with dignity and self-control. All of them seemed 
 to be physically well except Mrs. Kai'elin, who looked thin, 
 pale, and careworn, and Mr. Vitort, who had been three 
 times in exile and ten years in prison or in Siberia, and who, 
 1 thought, would not live much longer to trouble the 
 Government that had wrecked his life. Although only 
 forty-five years of age, he seemed greatly broken, walked 
 feebly with a cane, and suffered constantly from rheuma- 
 tism contracted in damp prison cells. He was one of the 
 best-informed exiles that I met in Western Siberia, and was 
 the first to tell me of the death of General Grant. We had 
 a long talk about the United States, in the course of which 
 he asked many questions concerning our civil war, the con- 
 stitutional amendments adopted after the war, the balance 
 of parties in Congress, and the civil service reform policy of 
 President Cleveland, which showed that he had more than 
 a superficial acquaintance with our political history. In 
 the houses of all the exiles in Ulbinsk, no matter how 
 wi'etchedly they might be furnished, I found a writing-desk 
 or table, books, and such magazines as the Revue des 
 Beux Mondes, and the Russki Velstnik, or Russian 
 Messenger. In the house of Mr. Blok there was a small 
 but well-selected library, in which I noticed, in addition to 
 Russian books, a copy of Longfellow's poems, in English ; 
 Maine's "Ancient Law," and "Village Communities " ; Bain's 
 " Logic " ; Mill's " Political Economy " ; Lecky's " History of 
 Rationalism " (an expurgated Russian edition) ; Spencer's 
 " Essays : Moral, Political, and Esthetic," and his " Princi- 
 ples of Sociology"; Taine's "History of English Litera- 
 ture " ; Laboulaye's " History of the United States," and a 
 large number of French and German works on jurisprudence 
 and political economy. I need hardly call attention, I 
 think, to the fact that men who read and carry to Siberia 
 with them such books as these are not wild fanatics.
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 237 
 
 nor "ignorant shoemakers and mechanics," as they were 
 once contemptuonsly described to me by a Russian officer, 
 but are serious, cultivated, thinking men. If such men are 
 in exile in a lonely Siberian village on the frontier of Mon- 
 golia, instead of being at home in the service of the state — 
 so much the worse for the state ! 
 
 We spent with the political exiles in Ulbinsk the greater 
 part of one night and a day. I became very deeply interested 
 in them, and should have liked to stay there and talk with 
 them for a week ; but our excursion to the Katunski Alps 
 had occupied more time than we had allotted to it, and it 
 was important that we should, if possible, reach the convict 
 mines of Eastern Siberia before the coming on of winter. 
 Sunday afternoon at four o'clock we set out for Ust 
 Kamenogorsk. Messrs. Blok and Karelin accompanied us 
 on horseback as far as the ferry across the Ulba, and then, 
 after bidding us a hearty and almost affectionate good-by, 
 and asking us not to forget them when we should return to 
 " a freer and happier country," they remounted their horses 
 and sat motionless in their saddles, watching us while we 
 were being ferried over the river. When we were ready to 
 start on the other side, a quarter of a mile distant, they 
 waved their handkerchiefs, and then, taking off their hats, 
 bowed low towards us in mute farewell as we dashed away 
 into the forest. If these pages should ever be read in one 
 of the lonely cabins of the political exiles in Ulbinsk, the 
 readers may feel assured that "in a freer and happier 
 country" we have not forgotten them, but think of them 
 often, with the sincerest esteem and the most affectionate 
 sympathy. 
 
 We reached Ust Kamenogorsk before dark Sunday after- 
 noon and took up our quarters in the post station. The 
 town, which contains about 5000 inhabitants, is a collection 
 of 600 or 800 houses, built generally of logs, and is situated 
 in the midst of a treeless plain on the right bank of the 
 Irtish, just where the latter is joined by its tributary the
 
 238 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 Ulba. It contains one or two Tatar mosques, two or three 
 Russian chnrelies with colored domes of tin, and an ostrog, 
 
 or fortress, consisting of a high quadrangular earthen wall 
 or embankment, surrounded by a dry moat, and inclosing 
 a white-walled jjrison, a church, and a few Government 
 buildings. The mosques, the white- turbaned mullas, the
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 239 
 
 hooded Kirghis horsemen in the streets, the morning and 
 evening cry of the muezzins, and the files of Bactrian 
 camels, which now and then come pacing slowly and sol- 
 emnly in from the steppe, give to the town the same Ori- 
 ental appearance that is so noticeable in Semipalatinsk, 
 and that suggests the idea that one is in northern Africa 
 or in Central Asia, rather than in Siberia. 
 
 While we were drinking tea in the post station we were 
 surprised by the appearance of Mr. Gross, who had come 
 from Ulbmsk to Ust Kamenogorsk that morning, and had 
 been impatiently awaiting our arrival. He had hardly taken 
 his seat when the wife of the station-master announced that 
 a Russian officer had come to call on us, and before I had 
 time to ask Mr. Gross whether his relations with the Rus- 
 sian authorities were pleasant or unpleasant, the officer, 
 dressed in full uniform, had entered the room. I was em- 
 barrassed for an instant by the awkwardness of the sit- 
 uation. I knew nothing of the officer except his name, 
 and it was possible, of course, that upon finding a political 
 exile there he might behave towards the latter in so offen- 
 sive a manner as to make some decisive action on my part 
 inevitable. I could not permit a gentleman who had called 
 upon us to be offensively treated at our table, even if he 
 was officially regarded as a " criminal " and a " nihilist." 
 Fortunately my apprehensions proved to be groundless. 
 Mr. Shaitanof, the Cossack officer who had come to see us, 
 was a gentleman, as well as a man of tact and good breed- 
 ing, and whatever he may have thought of the presence of 
 a political exile in our quarters so soon after our arrival, 
 he manifested neither surprise nor annoyance. He bowed 
 courteously when I introduced Mr. Gross to him, and in 
 five minutes they were engaged in an animated discussion 
 of bee-keeping, silk-worm culture, and tobacco-growing. 
 Mr. Shaitanof said that he had been making some experi- 
 ments near Ust Kamenogorsk with mulberry trees and 
 Virginian and Cuban tobacco, and had been so successful
 
 240 SIBERIA 
 
 that ho hoped to introdueo silk-worm culture there the next 
 year, and to substitute for the coarse native tobacco some 
 of the liner sorts from the West Indies and the United 
 States. 
 
 After half an hour of pleasant conversation Mr. Shaita- 
 nof bade us good-night, and Mr. Gross, Mr. Frost, and 1 
 went to call on the political exiles. In anticipation of our 
 coming, ten or fifteen of them had assembled in one of the 
 hirge upper rooms of a two-story log building near the 
 center of the town, which served as a residence for one of 
 tliem and a place of rendezvous for the others. It is, of 
 course, impracticable, as well as unnecessary, to describe 
 and characterize all of the political exiles in the Siberian 
 towns and villages through which we passed. The most 
 that I aim to do is to give the reader a general idea of 
 their appearance and behavior, and of the impression that 
 they made upon me. The exiles in Ust Kamenogorsk did 
 not dilfer essentially from those in Ulbinsk, except that, 
 taken as a body, they furnished a greater variety of types 
 and represented a larger number of social classes. In Ul- 
 binsk there were only professional men and students. In 
 Ust Kamenogorsk there was at one end of the social scale a 
 peasant shoemaker and at the other a Caucasian princess, 
 while between these extremes were physicians, chemists, 
 authors, publicists, university students, and landed pro- 
 prietors. Most of them were of noble birth or belonged to 
 the privileged classes, and some of them were men and 
 women of high cultivation and refinement. Among those 
 with whom I became best acquainted were Mr. Kanovalof, 
 who read English well but spoke it imperfectly ; ^ Mr. Mil- 
 inchuk, a dark-haired, dark-bearded Greorgian from Tiflis ; 
 and Mr. Adam Bialoveski, a writer and publicist from the 
 pro\ance of Mohilef. The last-named gentleman, who was 
 a graduate of the university of Kiev, impressed me as a 
 
 1 Mr. Kanovdlof committed suicide in Ust Kdmenogorsk about six months 
 after we left there.
 
 TWO COLONIES OF POLITICAL EXILES 241 
 
 man of singular ability, fairness, and breadth of view. He 
 was thoroughly acquainted with Russian history and juris- 
 prudence, as well as with the history and literature of the 
 west European nations ; and, notwithstanding the fact that 
 he had been in prison or in exile moet of the time since his 
 graduation from the university, he regarded life and its 
 problems with undiminished cheerfulness and courage. I 
 had a long talk with him about the Russian situation, and 
 was very favorably impressed by his cool, dispassionate 
 review of the revolutionary movement and the measures 
 taken by the Government for its suppression. His state- 
 ments were entirely free from exaggeration and prejudice, 
 and his opinions seemed to me to be almost judicially fair 
 and impartial. To brand such a man as a nihilist was ab- 
 surd, and to exile him to Siberia as a dangerous member 
 of society was simply preposterous. In any other civilized 
 country on the face of the globe except Russia he would 
 be regarded as the most moderate of liberals. 
 
 16
 
 OHAPTEE XI 
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 
 
 ^■IIIE colony of political exiles in list Kamenogorsk was 
 JL the last one that we saw in the steppe territories, and 
 it seems to me desirable, before proceeding with the nar- 
 rative of our Siberian journey, to describe more fully and 
 carefully the particular form of punishment that these of- 
 fenders were undergoing — a form of punishment that is 
 known in Russia as " exile by administrative process." 
 
 Exile by administrative process means the banishment 
 of an obnoxious person from one part of the empire to 
 another without the observance of any of the legal formal- 
 ities that, in most civilized countries, precede the depri- 
 vation of rights and the restriction of personal liberty. 
 The obnoxious person may not be guilty of any crime, and 
 may not have rendered himself amenable in any way to 
 the laws of the state, but if, in the opinion of the local 
 authorities, his presence in a particular place is "preju- 
 dicial to public order," or "incompatible with public tran- 
 quillity," he may be arrested without a warrant, may be 
 held from two weeks to two years in prison, and may then 
 be removed by force to any other place within the limits 
 of the empire and there be put under police surveillance 
 for a period of from one year to ten years. He may or may 
 not be informed of the reasons for this summary proceed- 
 ing, but in either case he is perfectly helpless. He cannot 
 examine the witnesses upon whose testimony his presence 
 is declared to be " prejudicdal to public order." He cannot
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 248 
 
 summon friends to prove his loyalty and good character, 
 without great risk of bringing upon them the same calamity 
 that has befallen him. He has no right to demand a trial, 
 or even a hearing. He cannot sue out a writ of habeas 
 corpus. He cannot appeal to his fellow-citizens through 
 the press. His communications with the world are so sud- 
 denly severed that sometimes even his own relatives do not 
 know what has happened to him. He is literally and abso- 
 lutely without any means whatever of self-defense. To 
 show the natiu'e of the evidence upon which certain classes 
 of Russians are banished to Siberia, and to illustrate the 
 working of the system generally, I will give a few cases of 
 administrative exile from the large number recorded in 
 my note-books. 
 
 Some of the readers of this chapter will perhaps remem- 
 ber a young naval officer named Constantine Staniukovich, 
 who was attached to the staff of the Grand Duke Alexis 
 at the time of the latter's visit to the United States. From 
 the fact that I saw in Mr. Staniukovich's house in Tomsk 
 the visiting cards of people well known in New York and 
 San Francisco, I infer that he went a good deal into society 
 here and that he may still be recalled to mind by persons 
 who met him. He was the son of a Russian admiral, was 
 an officer of great promise, and had before him the prospect 
 of a brilliant career in the Russian naval service. He was, 
 however, a man of broad and liberal views, with a natural 
 taste for literary pursuits, and after his return from Amer- 
 ica he resigned his position in the navy and became an 
 author. He wrote a number of novels and plays which 
 were fairly successful, but which, in the language of the 
 censor, " manifested a pernicious tendency," and in 1882 
 or 1883 he purchased a well-known Russian magazine in St. 
 Petersburg called the D'lelo and became its editor and pro- 
 prietor. He spent a considerable part of the summer of 
 1884 abroad, and in the latter part of that year left his wife 
 and children at Baden-Baden and started for St. Petersburg.
 
 •J44 SIBERIA 
 
 At tlu' Russian Iroiitior station of Verzhbolof he was sud- 
 denly arii'sted, was taken thence to St. Petersburg under 
 L,aiard, and was tliero thrown into tlie fortress of Petropav- 
 lovsk. His wife, knowing nothing of this misfortune, con- 
 tinued to write to him at St. Petersburg without getting any 
 answers to her letters, until finally she became alarmed, and 
 telegraphed to the editorial department of the Dielo, asking 
 what had happened to her husband and why he did not 
 write to her. The managing editor of the magazine replied 
 that Mr. Staniukovich was not there, and that they had 
 supposed him to be still in Baden-Baden. Upon the receipt 
 of this telegram, Mrs. Staniukovich, thoroughly frightened, 
 proceeded at once with her children to St. Petersburg. 
 Notliing whatever could be learned there with regard to 
 her husband's whereabouts. He had not been seen at the 
 editorial rooms of the Dielo, and none of his friends had 
 heard anything of or from him in two weeks. He had sud- 
 denly and mysteriously disappeared. At last, after days of 
 torturing anxiety, Mrs. Staniukovich was advised to make 
 inquiries of General Orzhefski, the chief of gendarmes. She 
 did so, and found that her husband was a prisoner in one of 
 the casemates of the Petropavlovsk fortress. The police, as 
 it afterward appeared, had for some time been intercepting 
 and reading his letters, and had ascertained that he was in 
 correspondence with a well-known Russian revolutionist 
 who was then living in Switzerland. The correspondence 
 was perfectly innocent in its character, and related solely 
 to the business of the magazine ; but the fact that an ed- 
 itor, and a man of known liberal views, was in communi- 
 cation with a political refugee was regarded as sufficient 
 evidence that his presence in St. Petersburg would be 
 " prejudicial to public order," and his arrest followed. In 
 May, 1885, he was exiled for three years by administrative 
 process to the city of Tomsk in Western Siberia. The 
 publication of the magazine was of course suspended in 
 consequence of the imprisonment and ultimate banishment
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTEATIVE PROCESS 245 
 
 of its owner, and Mr. Staniukovich was financially ruined. 
 If the Eussian Government deals in this arbitrary way with 
 men of rank, wealth, and high social position in the capital 
 of the empire, it can be imagined what treatment is ac- 
 corded to authors, physicians, students, and small landed 
 proprietors whose presence is regarded as "prejudicial to 
 public order" in the provinces. 
 
 In the year 1880 the well-known and gifted Russian 
 novelist Vladimir Korolenko, two of whose books have 
 recently been translated into English and published in 
 Boston, ^ was exiled to Eastern Siberia as a result of what 
 the Government itself finally admitted to be an official 
 mistake. Through the influence of Prince Imeretinski, Mr. 
 Korolenko succeeded in getting this mistake corrected be- 
 fore he reached his ultimate destination and was released in 
 the West Siberian city of Tomsk. Hardly had he returned, 
 however, to European Russia, when he was called upon to 
 take the oath of allegiance to Alexander III., and to swear 
 that he would betray every one of his friends or acquain- 
 tances whom he knew to be engaged in revolutionary or 
 anti-Government work. No honorable and self-respecting 
 man could take such an oath as that, and of course Mr. 
 Korolenko declined to do so. He was thereupon exiled by 
 administrative process to the East Siberian territory of 
 Yakutsk, where, in a wretched native iiMs, he lived for 
 about three years.- 
 
 Mr. Borodin, another Russian author and a well-known 
 contributor to the Russian magazine Annals of the Father- 
 land, was banished to the territory of Yakutsk on account 
 of the alleged " dangerous " and " pernicious " character of 
 a certain manuscript found in his house by the police during 
 
 1 "The Vagrant," a series of sketches the well-known author S. A. Priklonski 
 of Siberian life and experience, and in the newspaper Zemstvo for 1881, No. 
 " The Blind Musician." 10, p. 19. Korolenko has been four 
 
 2 A statement of the circumstances times banished to various parts of the 
 of Mr, Korolenko's first exile to Siberia empire without trial or hearing. 
 
 was published over the signature of
 
 •_'4(i SIBERIA 
 
 a soaii'h. Tliis inanuseript was a spare copy of an article 
 upon the I'cononiic coDditioii of the province of Viatka, 
 wliii'h Mr. Borodin had written and sent to the above- 
 nanuHl magazine, but which, up to that time, had not been 
 pubHshed. The author went to Eastern Siberia in a con- 
 vict's gray overcoat with a yellow ace of diamonds on his 
 back, and three or four months after his arrival in Yakutsk 
 111' liad tlie ]:)k^asure of reading in the Annals of the Father- 
 land tlie very same article for which he had been exiled. 
 The Minister of the Interior had sent him to Siberia merely 
 for having in his possession what the police called a 
 "dangerous" and "pernicious" manuscript, and then the 
 St. Petersburg committee of censorship had certified that 
 another copy of that same manuscript was perfectly harm- 
 less, and had allowed it to be published, without the change 
 of a line, in one of the most popular and widely circulated 
 magazines in the emjDire.^ 
 
 A gentleman named Achkin, in Moscow, was exiled to 
 Siberia by administrative process in 1885 merely because, 
 to adopt the language of the order that was issued for his 
 arrest, he was "suspected of an intention to put himself 
 into an illegal situation." The high crime which Mr. Ach- 
 kin was "suspected of an intention" to commit was the 
 taking of a fictitious name in the place of his own. Upon 
 what ground he was " suspected of an intention " to do this 
 terrible thing he never knew. 
 
 Another exile of my acquaintance, Mr. Y , was 
 
 banished merely because he was a friend of Mr. Z , who 
 
 was awaiting trial on the charge of political conspiracy. 
 
 Wlien Mr. Z 's case came to a judicial investigation he 
 
 was found to be innocent and was acquitted ; but in the mean- 
 
 1 Zemstvo, 1881, No. 10, p. 19. It is of Mr. Koroleuko was published at the 
 
 not often, of course, that facts of this time when the liberal ministry of Loris- 
 
 kind, which are so damaging to the Melikof was in power, just at the close 
 
 Government, get into the Russian of the reign of the late Tsar, when the 
 
 newspaper press. The account of Mr. strictness of the censorship was greatly 
 
 Borodin's experience and of the exile relaxed.
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 247 
 
 time Mr. Y , merely for being a friend of this innocent 
 
 man, had gone to Siberia by administrative process. 
 
 In another case a young student, called Vladimir Sidorski 
 (I use a fictitious name), was arrested by mistake instead of 
 another and a different Sidorski named Victor, whose 
 presence in Moscow was regarded by somebody as " preju- 
 dicial to public order." Vladimir protested that he was not 
 Victor, that he did not know Victor, and that his arrest in 
 the place of Victor was the result of a stupid blunder ; but 
 his protestations were of no avail. The police were too much 
 occupied in unearthing what they called "conspiracies" 
 and looking after " untrustworthy " people to devote any 
 time to a troublesome verification of an insignificant stu- 
 dent's identity. There must have been something wrong 
 about him, they argued, or he would not have been arrested, 
 and the safest thing to do with him was to send him to 
 Siberia, whoever he might be — and to Siberia he was sent. 
 When the convoy officer called the roll of the out-going 
 exile party, Vladimir Sidorski failed to answer to Victor 
 Sidorski's name, and the officer, with a curse, cried " Victor 
 Sidorski ! Why don't you answer to your name ? " 
 
 " It is not my name," replied Vladimir, " and I won't 
 answer to it. It 's another Sidorski who ought to be going 
 to Siberia." 
 
 " What is your name, then ? " 
 
 Vladimir told him. The officer coolly erased the name 
 " Victor " in the roll of the party, inserted the name " Vla- 
 dimir," and remarked cynically, " It does n't make a 
 
 bit of difference ! " 
 
 In the years 1877, 1878, and 1879, no attempt was made, 
 apparently, by the Government to ascertain whether an 
 arrested person was deserving of exile or not, nor even to 
 ascertain whether the man or woman exiled was the iden- 
 tical person for whom the order of banishment had been 
 issued. The whole system was a chaos of injustice, acci- 
 dent, and caprice. Up to November, 1878, as appears from
 
 'J4S SIBERIA 
 
 ail official circular to provincial governors, the local author- 
 ities (lid not even take the trouble to make a report of 
 political arrests to the Minister of the Interior.' If a man 
 was taken into custody as a political otfender, that, in many 
 cases, was the end of it so far as an investigation was con- 
 cerned. The fact that he had been arrested by mistake, or 
 in the place of some other person, did not necessarily insure 
 liis release. The local authorities reversed the humane rule 
 of Catharine II. and acted, in political cases, upon the prin- 
 ciple that it is better to punish ten innocent persons than to 
 allow one criminal to escape. 
 
 The above-cited case of the student Sidorski is by no 
 means exceptional. In the open letter to the Tsar for 
 which Madame Tsebrikova has recently been exiled to the 
 province of Vologda, the reader will find a brief statement 
 of a similar case in which two brothers were banished by 
 mistake in place of two other brothers of like name but of 
 dift'erent family. The banished young men were the sole 
 support of their widowed mother and a fifteen-year-old 
 sister. When, at last, the blunder was discovered and the 
 innocent brothers were permitted to return to their home, 
 they found that their mother had died of grief and priva- 
 tion, and that, after her death, their child-sister had been 
 sold by a boarding-house keeper into a house of prosti- 
 tution. " What must have been the feeling of those young 
 men towards the Government," Madame Tsebrikova asks, 
 " when they came back and were informed of their mother's 
 death and their sister's shame I " In the light of such facts 
 terrorism ceases to be an unnatural or an inexplicable phe- 
 nomenon. Wrong a man in that way, deny him all redress, 
 exile him again if he complains, gag him if he cries out, 
 strike him in the face if he struggles, and at last he will stab 
 and throw bombs. It is useless to say that the Russian Gov- 
 ernment does not exasperate men and women in this way. 
 
 1 Circular letter from the Departmeut of Executive Police No. 159, November 4, 
 1878, in " Prison Circulars," p. 655. Ministry of the Interior, St. Petersburg, 1880.
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 249 
 
 The ease of Madame Tsebrikova herself is a recent case in 
 point. For merely writing out the above story of injustice 
 and other stories like it, and sending them to Alexander 
 III. with an earnest and respectful letter imploring him to 
 right such wrongs, Madame Tsebrikova has been exiled by 
 administrative process to a remote village in the province 
 of Vologda. The only results of her letter were a decree 
 of banishment and a contemptuous inquiry from the Tsar, 
 " What business is it of hers ? " 
 
 The two things that are most exasperating to a liberal 
 and warm-hearted young Russian are, first, official lawless- 
 ness [pi'oizvol] in the sphere of personal rights, and second, 
 the suffering brought by such lawlessness upon near 
 relatives and dear friends. In exile by administrative pro- 
 cess these two exasperating agencies operate conjointly. 
 The suffering of a loved wife, or the loss of an affectionate 
 child, is hard enough to bear when it comes in the ordinary 
 course of nature and seems to be inevitable ; but when it 
 comes as the direct result of unnecessary causes, such as 
 injustice, tyi'anny, and official caprice, it has more than the 
 bitterness of death, and it arouses fiercer passions than 
 those that carry men into the storm of battle. As an illus- 
 tration of this I will relate briefly the story of a young 
 Russian surgeon who is known to a number of persons in 
 the United States. 
 
 In the year 1879 there was living in the town of Ivango- 
 rod, in the province of Chernigof, a skilful and accom- 
 plished young surgeon named Dr. Bieli. Although he was 
 a man of liberal views, he was not an agitator nor a 
 revolutionist, and had taken no active part in political 
 affaii^s. Some time in th^ late winter or early spring of 
 1879 there came to him, with letters of introduction, two 
 young women who had been studying in one of the medical 
 schools for women in St. Petersburg, and had been expelled 
 and ordered to return to their homes in central Russia 
 on account of their alleged political " untrustworthiness "
 
 !.>:)() SIBERIA 
 
 [nihlmf(nin(ri(khnosf]. They were very anxious to complete 
 tlu'ir ediu'ation and to fit themselves for useful work among 
 the peasants ; anil they begged Dr. Bieli to aid them in 
 their studies, to hear their recitations, and to allow them to 
 make use of iiis library and the facilities of his office. As 
 they were both in an "illegal" position, — that is, were liv- 
 ing in a place where, without permission from the author- 
 ities, they had no right to be, — it was Dr. Bieli's duty as a 
 loyal subject to hand them over to the police, regardless of 
 the fact that they had come to him with letters of introduc- 
 tion and a petition for help. He happened, however, to be 
 a man of courage, independence, and generous instincts ; 
 and, instead of betraying them, he listened with sympathy 
 to their story, promised them his aid, introduced them to 
 his wife, and began to give them lessons. The year 1879 in 
 Russia was a year of intense revolutionary activity. At- 
 tempts were constantly being made by the terrorists to 
 assassinate high Government officials; and the police, in 
 all parts of the empire, were more than usually suspicious 
 and alert. The visits of the young girls to Dr. Bieli's house 
 and office soon attracted the attention of the local authori- 
 ties in Ivangorod, and they took steps to ascertain who they 
 were and where they had come from. An investigation 
 showed that one of them was living on a forged passport, 
 while the other had none, and that both had been expelled 
 from 8t. Petersburg for political " uutrust worthiness." 
 Their unauthorized appearance in Ivangorod, when they 
 should have been at their homes, and their half-secret 
 visits — generally at night — to the house of Dr. Bieli were 
 regarded as evidence of a political conspiracy, and on the 
 10th of May, 1879, both they and the young surgeon were 
 arrested and exiled by administrative process to Siberia. 
 Dr. Bieli eventually was sent to the arctic village of Verk- 
 hoyansk, latitude 67.30°, in the province of Yakutsk, where 
 he was seen in 1882 by Engineer Melville, Lieutenant 
 Danenhower, Mr. W. H. Grilder, and all the survivors of the
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 251 
 
 arctic exploring steamer Jeannette, At the time of Dr. Bieli's 
 banishment, his wife, a beautiful young woman, twenty-four 
 or twenty-five years of age, was expecting confinement, and 
 was therefore unable to go to Siberia with him. As soon as 
 possible, however, after the birth of her child, and before 
 she had fully recovered her strength, she left her nursing 
 baby with relatives and started on a journey of more than 
 6000 miles to join her husband in a village situated north 
 of the arctic circle and near the Asiatic pole of cold. She 
 had not the necessary means to make such a journey by 
 rail, steamer, and post, as Lieutenant Schuetze made it in 
 1885-86, and was therefore forced to ask permission of the 
 Minister of the Interior to travel with a party of exiles.^ 
 As far as the city of Tomsk in Western Siberia both 
 political and common-criminal exiles are transported in 
 convict trains or barges. Beyond that point the common 
 criminals walk, and the politicals are carried in telegas^ at 
 the rate of about sixty miles a week, stopping in an etape 
 every third day for rest. At this rate of progress Mrs. Bieli 
 would have reached her husband's place of exile only after 
 sixteen months of incessant hardship, privation, and suffer- 
 ing. But she did not reach it. For many weeks her hope, 
 courage, and love sustained her, and enabled her to endure 
 without complaint the jolting, the suffocating dust, the 
 scorching heat, and the cold autumnal rains on the road, 
 the bad food, the plank sleeping-benches, the vermin, and 
 the pestilential air of the etape s ; but human endurance 
 has its limits. Three or four months of this unrelieved 
 misery, with constant anxiety about her husband and the 
 baby that, for her husband's sake, she had abandoned in 
 Russia, broke down her health and her spirit. She sank 
 into deep despondency and eventually began to show signs 
 of mental aberration. After passing Krasnoyarsk her con- 
 
 1 By Russian law a wife may go to with an exile party, lives on the exile 
 her exiled husband at the expense of ration, sleeps in the roadside e7ajje5,and 
 the Government, provided she travels submits generally to prison discipline.
 
 lit)- 
 
 SIBEllIA 
 
 (lit ion became such tliat any sudden shock was likely 
 eonipletely to ovevtlirow her reason — and the shock soon 
 came. There are two callages ni Eastern Siberia whose 
 names are almost alike— Verkholensk and Verkhoyansk. 
 The lornier is situated on the river Lena, only 180 miles 
 from Irkutsk, while the latter is on the head-waters of the 
 Yaua, and is distant from Irkutsk nearly 2700 miles. As 
 the party with which she was traveling approached the 
 capital of Eastern Siberia, her hope, strength, and courage 
 seemed to revive. Her husband she thought was only a few 
 hundred miles away, and in a few more weeks she would be 
 in his arms. She talked of him constantly, counted the 
 verst-po^ts which measured her slow progress towards him, 
 and literally lived upon the expectation of speedy reunion 
 with him. A few stations west of Irkutsk she accidentally 
 became aware, for the first time, that her husband was not 
 in Verkholensk, hut in Verkhoyansk ; that she was still 
 separated from him by nearly 3000 miles of mountain, 
 steppe, and forest; and that in order to reach his place 
 of banishment that year she would have to travel many 
 weeks on dog or reindeer sledges, in terrible cold, through 
 the arctic solitudes of northeastern Asia. The sudden 
 shock of this discovery was almost immediately fatal. She 
 became violently insane, and died insane a few months later 
 in the Irkutsk prison hospital, without ever seeing again 
 the husband for whose sake she had endured such mental 
 and physical agonies. 
 
 I have been compelled to restrict myself to the barest 
 outline of this terrible tragedy; but if the reader could 
 hear the story, as I heard it, from the lips of exiles who 
 traveled with Mrs. Bieli, and who saw the flickering spark 
 of her reason go out, in an East Siberian eta2)e, he would not 
 wonder that exile by administrative process makes terror- 
 ists, but rather that it does not make a nation of terrorists.^ 
 
 2 My authorities for the facts of this of a Russian provincial assembly, a 
 case are : first, a well-known member man of the highest character, who was
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 
 
 253 
 
 A recent writer in the German periodical Unsere Zeit of 
 Leipzig, who signs himself "A Russian Resident of Eastern 
 Siberia," and who is, apparently, a sincere and earnest man, 
 attempts to lay the whole responsibility for exile by admin- 
 istrative process upon the Russian revolutionists. He ad- 
 mits the truth of all I have said on the subject, and acknow- 
 ledges that " no man knows at what moment he may be 
 seized and cast into prison or doomed to exile without 
 even a hearing"; but he declares that "all this has been 
 brought upon us by a band so vile — so horribly vile — that 
 
 their crimes are without parallel But for the nihilists 
 
 of Kara there would have never been any administrative 
 exile." ^ The " Russian Resident of Eastern Siberia," how- 
 ever, is as much mistaken in the explanation that he gives 
 of the origin of administrative exile, as in the character 
 
 personally cognizant of the circum- 
 stances attending Dr. Bieli's arrest and 
 banishment ; second, exiles who went 
 to Siberia in the same party with Dr. 
 Bieli ; and third, exiles — one of them 
 a lady — who were in the same party 
 with Dr. Bieli's wife. 
 
 1 The passages of the " Russian Res- 
 ident's" article to which I desire to 
 call the reader's attention are as fol- 
 lows: "And now came the most terri- 
 ble calamity of all — the delegation by 
 the Tsar to the administrative author- 
 ities of the power of exile, which, until 
 then, had been the imperial preroga- 
 tive. It was a measure resorted to in 
 a time of terrible necessity, when the 
 nihilists, in the indulgence of their 
 bloody phantasy, were recklessly wield- 
 ing the assassin's dagger, and not hes- 
 itating even to hurl railway trains to 
 destruction by dynamite. The power 
 of exile was committed to the adminis- 
 tration as a means of precaution. The 
 governors-general were intrusted with 
 power to banish all suspected persons. 
 It appeared to be the only possible 
 means to counteract the nefarious 
 doings of these dark conspirators. It 
 was an unfortunate decision and a 
 
 serious error. It did not save the Tsar 
 and has done nothing for the suppres- 
 sion of nihilism ; but the incalculable 
 evil and misery to which the wretched 
 system has reduced us is indescribable. 
 What Kennan writes on this head is 
 true, every word of it. The word 
 nchlagonadiozhni [untrustworthy] has 
 become a curse-word in the Russian 
 language and will be recalled with a 
 shudder by latest generations. This 
 is the unspeakable misery that the ter- 
 rorists have plunged us into with their 
 murders. From the day this power 
 was delegated, no man knows at what 
 moment he may be seized and cast into 
 prison or doomed to exile without even 
 a hearing. All this has been brought 
 upon us by a band so vile — so horribly 
 vile — that their CTimes are without 
 parallel ; young people from eighteen 
 to twenty-three, without ideals, with- 
 out moral restraint, without regard for 
 family, fatherland, or station, spread- 
 ing blood and ruin at the prompting of 
 
 their presumptuous fancies 
 
 The same author wlio knew so well 
 how to stir our sjonpathies for unde- 
 served sorrow wields his pen with equal 
 facility in denunciation of the just fate
 
 27A 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 that he attributes to the Russian revolutionists. Exile by 
 adniiuistrative process is not a new thing in Russia/ nor 
 was it first resorted to by the Russian Government as an 
 extraordinary and exceptional measure of self-defense in 
 the struggle with the revolutionists. It is older than ni- 
 hilism, it is older than the modern revolutionary move- 
 ment, it is older than the hnperial house of Romanof. It 
 has been practised for centuries as a short and easy method 
 of dealing with people who happen to be obnoxious or in 
 
 of a band of profligates Are 
 
 Kennan and Frost, perhaps, of opinion 
 that tlie murders of Lincoln and Gar- 
 field are to be reckoned as benefac- 
 tions to the race ? Did it never occur 
 to Kennan that for all the nameless 
 miseries which he depicts in the fii'st 
 part of his book " [the first of my 
 magcazine articles I'epublished in Ger- 
 many in book form] " we are indebted 
 to the heroes of the second part — that 
 but for the nihilists of Kara there never 
 would have been any administrative 
 exile ? " L Unsere Zcit, Leipzig, August, 
 1890. Translation in the Literary Di- 
 gest of the same month and year.] 
 
 I shall recur in a later chapter to 
 the controverted question of the moral 
 character of the Eussian revolutionists, 
 but, in the meantime, it may not be 
 out of place to ask the "Russian Resi- 
 dent of Eastern Siberia" whether it 
 never occurred to him that an unpre- 
 judiced investigator who, he admits, 
 is perfectly right in his description of 
 Siberian prisons, right " beyond ques- 
 tion" in his account of common-crimi- 
 nal exile, and right "to a word" in his 
 statements concerning administrative 
 banishment, may, possibly, be right 
 also in his estimate of the character of 
 men with whom he lived for a whole 
 year upon terms of the closest inti- 
 macy? Did it never occur to the 
 "Russian Resident " that a man who 
 tells the exact truth in ninety-nine 
 consecutive instances is likely to tell 
 the exact truth also in the one hun- 
 dredth, unless there be, in that par- 
 ticular case, some good and previously 
 
 non-existent reason for deception or 
 error ? 
 
 1 Administrative punishments gen- 
 erally, as distinguished from judicial 
 punishments, have been inflicted in 
 Russia from the very dawn of history. 
 At the beginning of the eighteentli 
 century the right to inflict punishment 
 by administrative process was vested 
 in more than twenty different classes 
 of Russian officials, including gover- 
 nors, vice-governors, vocvods, comman- 
 dants, chiefs of detective police, ecclesi- 
 astical authorities, chiefs of provincial 
 bureaus, excise officers, landed proprie- 
 tors, chief foresters, post-station mas- 
 ters, officers of the mints, and mana- 
 gers of Government salt works. Most of 
 these officials were empowered not only 
 to exile at their own discretion, but to 
 confiscate property, to inflict torture, to 
 brand, and to flog with the Icnut. For 
 references to the laws that conferred 
 such powers upon Russian officials 
 see "Personal Detention as a Police 
 Measure to Insure Public Safety," by 
 
 I. Tai-asof, Professor of Criminal Law 
 and Jurisprudence in the Demidof Ju- 
 ridical Lyceum, part 2, p. 9. Yaros- 
 lavl, 1886. Exile by administrative 
 process is also specifically authorized 
 in the "Statutes Relating to the Antici- 
 pative Prevention and Frustration of 
 Crime," articles 1, 300, 316, and .334- 
 339; in the "Exile Statutes," article 
 
 II, and in article 667, part 1, Vol. II, of 
 the " Collection of Russian Laws." All 
 of these legal enactments originated 
 long prior to the existence in Russia of 
 a revolutionary party.
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 255 
 
 the way, but who cannot conveniently be tried or convicted 
 in a court of justice. If the " Russian Resident of Eastern 
 Siberia " will read attentively the works of Tarasof, Serge- 
 yefski, Maximof, and Anuchin, he will find that adminis- 
 trative exile has been not only a recognized, but a well 
 established, method of dealing with certain classes of of- 
 fenders ever since the seventeenth century. In the reign 
 of the Emperor Nicholas, for example, nihilism had not been 
 so much as heard of, — the very word was unknown, — and 
 yet men and women were being exiled to Siberia by admin- 
 istrative process, not in hundreds merely, but in thousands, 
 and not only by order of the Tsar, but by order of the 
 administrative authorities, by order of the ecclesiastical 
 authorities, by order of the village communes, and even by 
 order of private landowners. Most of them, it is true, were 
 not political offenders ; but they were none the less enti- 
 tled to a trial, and they were all victims of the system that 
 the "Russian Resident" says was brought into existence 
 half a century later, " in a time of terrible necessity, as the 
 only possible means to counteract the nefarious doings of 
 those dark conspirators," the nihilists. 
 
 The careful and exhaustive researches of Anuchin in the 
 archives of the chief exile bureau {PriMz o Silnikh] at 
 Tobolsk, show that between 1827 and 1846 there was not a 
 year in which the number of persons sent to Siberia by 
 administrative process fell below three thousand, and that it 
 reached a maximum, for a single year, of more than six thou- 
 sand.^ The aggregate number for the twenty-year period is 
 
 1 The precise figures are as follows : See "An Investigation of the Per- 
 centages of Siberian Exiles,'' by E. N. 
 Aniiehin, chap, ii, p. 22. Memoirs of 
 the Impei'ial Russian Geographical 
 Society, Statistical Section, Vol. Ill, 
 St. Petersburg, 1873. 
 
 As an evidence of the trustworthiness 
 of Mr. Aniichin's statistics, it is only 
 proper to mention the fact that, for the 
 great work above cited, the author was 
 awarded the Constantine medal of the 
 Total 79,909 Imperial Russian Geographical Society 
 
 1827. . 
 
 .6,326 
 
 1837. . 
 
 .3,976 
 
 1828 . 
 
 . 5,613 
 
 1838 . 
 
 . .4,077 
 
 1829 . 
 
 ..3,509 
 
 1839.. 
 
 . .4,552 
 
 1830.. 
 
 . 3,377 
 
 1840 
 
 . .4,683 
 
 1831.. 
 
 . .4,050 
 
 1841 . 
 
 . 4,125 
 
 1832 . 
 
 ..3,395 
 
 1842.. 
 
 . 3,737 
 
 1833. 
 
 ..3,371 
 
 1843 
 
 4,067 
 
 1834.. 
 
 . .3,134 
 
 1844 
 
 3,741 
 
 1835.. 
 
 .3,618 
 
 1845 
 
 3,184 
 
 1836 
 
 .4,469 
 
 1840 
 
 2,905
 
 '2 Mi SIBERIA 
 
 7i"),l)09. It oaii hardly be contended, I think, that the 
 nihilists or the terrorists are responsible for a system that 
 luul sent eig-hty thonsand persons to Siberia without judicial 
 trial, long before such a thing as a nihilist or a terrorist 
 was known, and before most of the modern Russian revolu- 
 tionists were born. The "Russian Resident of Eastern 
 Siberia " has simply put the cart before the horse. It was 
 administrative exile, administrative caprice, and the ab- 
 sence of orderly and legal methods in political cases 
 g(Mierally, that caused terrorism, and not terrorism that 
 necessitated official lawlessness. The wolf always contends, 
 with a show of virtuous indignation, that while he was 
 peacefully drinking as usual, the lamb muddied the brook, 
 and thus compelled him to " take exceptional measures for 
 the reestablishment of public tranquillity " ; but his state- 
 ment is very properly discredited when it appears that he 
 was above the lamb on the brook, and that, for years, he 
 had been taking " exceptional measures " of the same kind 
 with other lambs that had not been near the brook. To 
 defend or to justify the crimes of the terrorists is not the 
 object of my work ; but when the history of the nineteenth 
 century in Russia shall have been written by some one 
 having access to the secret archives of the Ministry of the 
 Interior and the Third Section of the Tsar's Chancellery, it 
 will appear, I think, to the satisfaction of all men, that 
 most of the so-called terroristic crimes in Russia were 
 committed, not, as the "Russian Resident" asserts, by 
 "bloodthirsty tigers in human form at the prompting of 
 
 for 1869. The book was intended to sions of disapproval are contained in 
 
 comprise two volumes, but the second the copy sent to the Smithsonian Insti- 
 
 volume, containing statistics of the tution at Washington, but they are not 
 
 exile system since 1846, has never ap- to be found in my copy, nor in any 
 
 peared, owing to "circumstances over other of later date than the first edition, 
 
 which the author has no control." The The fact is not without interest as a 
 
 censor has even mutilated the first significant proof that the Eussian Gov- 
 
 volume by striking out Anuehin's con- ernment itself is ashamed of this atro- 
 
 demnation of exile by administrative ciously unjust form of exile, although 
 
 process — the very subject now under not yet willing to abandon it. 
 consideration. The author's expres-
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTKATIVE PROCESS 257 
 
 presumptuous fancies," but by ordinary men and women 
 exasperated to the pitch of desperation by administrative 
 suppressionof free speech and free thought, administrative 
 arrest without warrant, administrative imprisonment for 
 years upon suspicion, administrative banishment to the 
 arctic regions without trial, and, to crown all, administra- 
 tive denial of every legal remedy and every peaceful means 
 of redress. 
 
 It is true that in 1879, as a result of the criminal activ- 
 ity of the terrorists, martial law was declared throughout 
 European Russia, unlimited discretionary power was given 
 to governors-general, and exile by administrative process, 
 as a quick and convenient method of dealing with politi- 
 cal suspects, was expressly authorized by the Tsar; but 
 the imperial authorization was nothing more than a formal 
 sanction of a preexisting measure, and an intimation that 
 it might, thenceforth, be given a wider scope. To say 
 that this form of exile was previously unknown, and that 
 it was forced upon the Government by the crimes of the 
 terrorists, is to set chronology at naught and to ignore 
 all the historical facts of the case. The first attempt on 
 the part of the terrorists to assassinate a Government of- 
 ficial was the attempt of Vem^^Zasulich to kill General 
 Trepof, the St. Petersburg chief of police, on the 5th of 
 February, 1878. Administrative exile for political reasons 
 had then been common for almost a decade. If I mis- 
 take not. Vera Zasiilich herself had been one of its vic- 
 tims seven or eight years before. I think she was one of 
 twenty or thirty persons who were tried before a special 
 session of the Governing Senate in 1871 upon the charge 
 of complicity in the Nechaief conspiracy, who were judi- 
 cially declared to be not guilty, but who were immediately 
 rearrested, nevertheless, and exiled by administrative pro- 
 cess, in defiance of all law and in contemptuous disregard 
 of the judgment of the highest coui't in the empire. A 
 government that acts in this way sows dragons' teeth and 
 17
 
 258 SIBERIA 
 
 has no right to complain of the harvest. The so-called 
 " propagandists " of 1870-74 did not resort to violence in 
 any form, and did not even make a practice of resisting 
 arrest, until after the Government had begun to exile them 
 to Siberia for life with ten or twelve years of penal servi- 
 tude, for offenses that were being punished at the very 
 same time in Austria with only a few days — or at most a 
 few weeks — of personal detention.^ It was not terrorism 
 that necessitated administrative exile in Eussia; it was 
 merciless severity and banishment without due process of 
 law that provoked terrorism. 
 
 In the latter part of the reign of Alexander II., and par- 
 ticularly between the years 1870 and 1880, administrative 
 exile was resorted to, in political cases, upon a scale never 
 before known, and with a recklessness and cynical indif- 
 ference to personal rights that were almost unparalleled. 
 In Odessa, General Todleben, by virtue of the unlimited dis- 
 cretionary power given him in the Imperial iiMz of April 
 17, 1879, proceeded to banish, without inquiry or dis- 
 crimination, the whole " politically untrustworthy" class — 
 that is, to exile every person whose loyalty to the existing 
 Government was even doubtful." The mere fact that a 
 man had been registered as a suspect in the books of the 
 secret police, or had been accused, even anonymously, of 
 political disaffection, was a sufficient reason for his depor- 
 tation to the remotest part of the empire. Parents who 
 had never had a disloyal thought were exiled because their 
 children had become revolutionists ; school-boys who hap- 
 pened to be acquainted with political offenders were exiled 
 because they had not betrayed the latter to the police; 
 
 1 See the reference by W. R. S. Eals- was one month of imprisonment. [News- 
 ton to the trial of Austrian socialists at paper Golos, St. Petersburg, 1880, Nos. 
 Lemberg in March, 1877. ["Russian 122, 123, 125, 126, 127, and 128.] 
 Revolutionary Literature," by W. R. S. '-^See the article upon Count Loris- 
 Ralston, Nineteenth Century, May, 1877, Melikof in the Russian historical review 
 ]). 413.] See also official report of the Eiisskaya Starindtov the vaonthotJsinu- 
 trial of Austrian socialists in Cracow, ary, 1889, p. 62. 
 where the severest sentence imposed
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 259 
 
 teachers were exiled for circulating copies of the Russian 
 magazine Annals of the Fatherland; members of provin- 
 cial assemblies were exiled because they insisted upon 
 their right to petition the crown for the redress of griev- 
 ances ; and university students who had been tried for 
 political crime and duly acquitted by the courts were 
 immediately rearrested and exiled by administrative pro- 
 cess, in violation of the most elementary principles of 
 justice. 
 
 In December, 1879, a young revolutionist —a Jew — 
 named Maidanski, was hanged in Odessa by sentence of a 
 court-martial for having taken part in a conspiracy to 
 assassinate a Government spy named Gorinovich. His old 
 father and mother, who lived in Elizabethgrad, came to 
 Odessa to have a last interview with him before he should 
 be put to death ; but the authorities, instead of allowing 
 the aged parents to see their condemned son, promptly 
 arrested them both and sent them to Eastern Siberia by 
 administrative process. They were nothing but poor illit- 
 erate peasants, and there was not the least evidence to 
 show that they had encouraged their son's criminal activity, 
 or even that they had been aware of it ; but the opinion of 
 the Government seemed to be that they deserved punish- 
 ment for having brought such a son into the world. It 
 may be thought, in the light of more recent events, that 
 they were treated in this merciless way because they were 
 Jews; but the Government, at that time, was dealing in 
 precisely the same manner with orthodox Russians belong- 
 ing to the educated and privileged classes. 
 
 In the late summer or early fall of 1879 two educated 
 young women from Nikolaief — the sisters Livandofskaya — 
 were exiled for political reasons to different parts of Eastern 
 Siberia. One of them, named Vera, was banished by ad- 
 ministrative process to Minusinsk in the province of Yeni- 
 seisk, while the other was sentenced by a court-martial to 
 forced colonization in the little town of Kirensk on the
 
 •2(\() SIBERIA 
 
 rivev Lena.' If the Government had been satisfied with the 
 deportation of these two young women only, there would 
 liave been nothing unusual or particularly noteworthy in 
 the ease ; but it went nuicli further than this. The family 
 of the two exiled girls consisted of a father aged about 
 seventy, a mother aged fifty-five or sixty, and two younger 
 sisters fifteen and sixteen years of age respectively. 
 
 After the banishment of Vera and the other elder sister 
 to Eastern Siberia, all the remaining members of the family 
 were exiled by administrative process for a term of three 
 years to a village near the sub-arctic coast of the White Sea 
 in the province of Archangel. As long as their term of 
 banishment lasted they received a small monthly allowance 
 from the Government for their maintenance, and so man- 
 aged to exist ; but when, in 1882, they were informed that 
 they were at liberty to return to Nikolaief, and that their 
 allowance would no longer be paid to them, they were left 
 without any means of support in the place where they 
 were, and had no money with which to get back to their 
 home. They wrote a piteous letter to Vera in Minusinsk, 
 describing their sufferings and their almost helpless situa- 
 tion, and Vera, upon receipt of it, determined to make her 
 escape, return to European Russia, and there, under an 
 assumed name, earn money enough, if possible, to bring 
 her aged parents and her two younger sisters back to their 
 home in Nikolaief. Her attempt to escape was successful, 
 she reached European Russia in safety, and began, in the 
 city of Kiev, her search for employment. Failing to get 
 anything to do, she used up, little by little, the small sum 
 of money that she had brought with her from Siberia, and 
 at last, to escape starvation, she was forced, in despair, to 
 give herself up to the police. She lay for some months in 
 
 1 Vera was first banished in 1878 to tried by court-martial in Odessa and 
 
 the village of Veliki iJstia in the Euro- sentenced to forced colonization in 
 
 peanprovinceof Vologda. When, about Kirensk, Vera was rearrested and ex- 
 
 a year later, her sister, with twenty- iled to Minusinsk. 
 seven other political offenders, was
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 261 
 
 prison, while the authorities were investigating her story, 
 and was then sent back to Minusinsk. In the meantime 
 her aged father and motlier had succeeded in obtaining 
 from friends money enough to get as far south as Moscow, 
 and when the unfortunate daughter passed through that 
 city on her way to Eastern Siberia, her parents and sisters, 
 whom she had hoped to help, came to see her in prison and 
 were permitted to have a brief interview with her. Vera 
 subsequently married, in Minusinsk, the talented young 
 author, publicist, and political exile, Ivan Petrovich Belo- 
 konski, and lived there with him until the termination of 
 her period of banishment. She then returned to European 
 Russia in order that she might help take care of her aged 
 father, who had gone insane, and her feeble and almost 
 heart-broken mother. At the time when we left Siberia, 
 she, herself, was living with her parents in the city of 
 Kiev, her exiled husband was more than three thousand 
 miles away in Minusinsk, and her exiled sister was more 
 than four thousand miles away on the head-waters of the 
 river Lena. 
 
 To one who lives in a country where personal rights are 
 secured by all sorts of legal and constitutional guarantees, 
 it may seem, perhaps, that nothing could be more unjust 
 and tyi'annical than the banishment of an infirm father, an 
 aged mother, and two helpless children, merely because cer- 
 tain other members of the family had become disloyal ; but 
 in the history of administrative exile in Russia there are 
 things even more extraordinary and unreasonable than this. 
 
 Towards the close of the Russo-Turkish war of 1877-1878, 
 when the conspicuous gallantry of General Skobelef had 
 attracted to him the attention of the world, and had made 
 him the idol of enthusiastic young men throughout Russia, 
 a large number of students in the university of Kiev under- 
 took to give formal expression to their feeling of admira- 
 tion for the great popular hero by getting up an address to 
 him. There happened, at that time, to be more or less
 
 2&2 SIBERIA 
 
 political oxcitement among a certain class of the Kiev uni- 
 versity students, and the meetings that were held for the 
 purpose of drafting and discussing the proposed address to 
 Skobolef were thought by the Government to have in view 
 aiuUlier and a more dangerous end. They were soon pro- 
 liiltited, therefore, by the authorities, and several of the 
 students who had taken a prominent part in them were 
 arrested on suspicion, held for a time in prison, and then 
 sent by administrative process to the northern province of 
 Vologda. Among the students thus exiled was Ivan N , 
 
 the son of a wealthy landed proprietor in Kherson. When 
 the young man had spent three or four months in the 
 northern village to which he had been banished, his father, 
 by means of a liberal expenditure of money, succeeded in 
 getting him transferred to the province of Kherson, where 
 the climate is milder than in Vologda, and where the young 
 exile was nearer his home. He was still kept, however, 
 under police surveillance, and was regarded by the authori- 
 ties as " politically untrustworthy." In April, 1879, Greneral 
 Todleben was appointed governor-general of Odessa, with 
 unlimited discretionary power, and as soon as he reached 
 his post he proceeded to extirpate " sedition " in the prov- 
 inces under his jurisdiction by banishing to Siberia, with- 
 out trial or hearing, every man, woman, or child who was 
 registered as a suspect in the books of the secret police, or 
 who happened at that time to be under police surveillance. 
 Among such persons was the unfortunate Kiev student 
 
 Ivan N . His transfer from the province of Vologda 
 
 to the province of Kherson had brought him within the 
 limits of the territory subject to the authority of Governor- 
 general Todleben, and had thus rendered his situation worse 
 instead of better. It was of no use for him to plead that 
 the Government, in consenting to his transfer from a north- 
 ern to a southern province, had intended to show him 
 mercy, and that to send him to Siberia would be to punish 
 him a second time, and with redoubled severity, for an
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 263 
 
 action that was wholly innocent in the first place, and that 
 ought not to have been punished at all. The chinovniks 
 in the office of the governor-general had no time to investi- 
 gate or to make discriminations. The orders were to banish 
 to Siberia all persons then under police surveillance ; and 
 if they should once begin to inquire, and investigate, and 
 grant hearings, they would never get anybody banished at 
 all. If he felt aggrieved he could send a petition to the 
 Minister of the Interior from Siberia. All the young man's 
 efforts to get his case reconsidered on its merits were fruit- 
 less, and in the summer of 1879 he was sent to Eastern 
 Siberia by administrative process. In the prison of Kras- 
 noyarsk, where the exile party to which he belonged was de- 
 tained for a few days, a misunderstanding of some sort arose 
 between the prison officials and the politicals, in the course 
 of which the latter became insubordinate and tui'bulent. 
 The inspector of exile transportation came to the prison in 
 a state of semi-intoxication to quiet the disturbance, and 
 while he was haranguing and threatening the politicals, 
 one of them exclaimed ironically, " Yazhno ! " which may be 
 rendered in English, " How important we are ! " The inspec- 
 tor was beside himself with fury, and, not being able to 
 find out who had uttered the offensive exclamation, he 
 caused all the prisoners in that Mmera to be sent to the 
 sub-arctic territory of Yakutsk. The young student from 
 Kiev was not a political and had taken no active part in 
 the disorder, but he happened to be in the cell from which 
 the ironical cry, " Vazhno ! " came, and that circumstance 
 alone was sufficient to send him to the arctic regions. In 
 the next five years of enforced solitude he had ample time 
 to reflect upon the danger of falling under suspicion in a 
 country where the will of a cJihwvnik is the law of the 
 land, and where patriotic admiration for a great general 
 may be punished as severely as an assault with intent to 
 kill. The Persian poet Saadi, who evidently saw practised 
 at Bagdad in the twelfth century the same governmental
 
 0(34 SIBERIA 
 
 methods that prevail in Russia now, tells a story in tlie 
 "Gulistau" of a terror-stricken fox who was seen limping and 
 running- away, and who, upon being asked what he was 
 afraid of, replied, " I hear they are going to press a camel 
 into the service." 
 
 '' Well, what of it? "said the interrogator; "what relation- 
 shi}^ is there between that animal and you ? " 
 
 '' Be silent ! " rejoined the fox. " If the malignant, out 
 of evil design, should say, ' This is a camel, ' who would 
 be so solicitous for my relief as to order an inquiry 
 into my case! and 'before the antidote can be brought 
 from Irak he who has been bitten by the serpent may 
 be dead.' " 
 
 In the year 1879 there was living in the Russian city of 
 Pultava a poor apothecary named Schiller, who desired for 
 some reason to change the location of his place of business. 
 As druggists in Russia are not allowed to migrate from one 
 town to another without the permission of the Government, 
 Schiller wrote to the Minister of the Interior, stating his 
 desire to move and the reasons for it, and asking that he 
 be authorized to close his shop in Pultava and open another 
 in Kharkof. Week after week passed without bringing 
 any answer to his request. At last, the Minister of the In- 
 terior happened to stop in Pultava for a day or two on one 
 of his journeys from St. Petersburg to the Crimea, and 
 Schiller, regarding this as a providential opportunity, at- 
 tempted to get an interview with him for the purpose of 
 presenting his petition in person. Of course the guard at 
 the door of the house occupied by the Minister refused to 
 admit a poor apothecary with a paper, and Schiller, indig- 
 nant at what he thought was an injustice, wrapped his 
 petition around a stone, to give it weight, and threw it into 
 the window of the Minister's room. He was at once arrested 
 and imprisoned, and a few months later, upon the charge 
 of having behaved in a disorderly manner and shown gross 
 disrespect to the higher authorities, he was banished by
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTKATIVE PKOCESS 265 
 
 administrative process, as a political offender, to the village 
 of Varnavin in the province of Kostroma. This was not 
 regarded by the authorities as a particularly severe punish- 
 ment ; but Schiller, finding enforced residence in an unfa- 
 miliar village to be irksome and tedious, and having no 
 further confidence in petitions, changed his location between 
 sunset and dawn without asking leave of anybody — in 
 other words, ran away. About this time the Tsar issued a 
 poveleinie^ or command, directing that all administrative 
 exiles found absent from their places of banishment without 
 leave should be sent to the East-Siberian province of 
 Yakutsk.^ When, therefore, a few months later, Schiller 
 was rearrested in a part of the empire where he had no right 
 to be, he was sent by etape to Irkutsk, and the governor- 
 general of Eastern Siberia was requested to put him under 
 police surveillance in some part of the territory named in 
 the Imperial command. Governor-general Aniichin, who 
 had then recently come to Irkutsk, and who had not 
 had time, apparently, to famiharize himself with the vast 
 region intrusted to his care,- directed that Schiller be sent 
 to the district town of Zashiversk, which was supposed to 
 be situated on the river Indigirka, a few miles south of the 
 arctic circle. A ^entury or a century and a half ago, this 
 
 1 This Imperial command was issued basis of fact or not. In the latter part 
 on the 2d of April, 1880, and was in- of the year 1880, a political named 
 tended to discourage attempts on the Peter Mikhailovich Volokhof — an ae- 
 part of political exiles to escape. In quaintance of the Russian novelist 
 the hands of local police officials it was Korolenko — was banished to the prov- 
 soon made an instrument for the punish- ince of Yakutsk for an alleged attempt 
 ment of politicals who incurred their to escape from Archangel. As a mat- 
 hostility. The first time, for example, ter of fact he had never even been in 
 that an obnoxious exile went two hun- Archdngel, much less attempted to es- 
 dred yards beyond the limits of the cape from there. 
 
 village — perhaps only into a neigh- 2 Eastern Siberia has an area con- 
 boring forest to gather flowers or ber- siderably greater than that of the 
 ries — he was aiTCsted upon the charge United States and Alaska taken to- 
 of attempting to escape and immedi- gether, and most of the vast territory 
 ately banished to the province of Ya- of Yakutsk is as wild and unsettled 
 kiitsk— the wildest part of northeast- as the northern part of British North 
 ern Asia. It made little difference America, 
 whether the charge rested upon any
 
 •2«i() SIBERIA 
 
 town oli Zasliiversk was a place of considerable local im- 
 portance ; but, for some reason, it lost its preeminence as a 
 fur-trading center, fell gradually into decay, and finally 
 ceased to exist. Its location was still marked with two 
 concentric circles on all the maps,' its name continued to 
 appear annually in the records of the governor-general's 
 office, nnd I have no doubt that a coterie of chinoviiiks in 
 Irkutsk were dividing and pocketing every year the money 
 appropriated for repairs to its public buildings; but, as a 
 matter of fact, it had not contained a building nor an in- 
 habitant for more than half a century, and forest trees were 
 growing on the mound that marked the site of its ostrogi- 
 Poor Schiller, after having been carried three or four thou- 
 sand miles up and down the rivers Lena and Indigirka in a 
 vain search for a non-existent arctic town, was finally 
 brought back to Yaktitsk ; and a report was made to the 
 governor-general that Zashlversk, apparently, had ceased 
 to exist. The governor-general thereupon ordered that the 
 prisoner be taken to Sredni Kolimsk, another " town " of 
 forty-five houses, situated on the river Kolyma north of 
 the arctic circle, 3700 miles from Irkutsk and 7500 miles 
 from the capital of the empire. When, after more than a 
 year of etape life, the unfortunate druggist from Pultava 
 reached the last outpost of Russian power in northeastern 
 Asia and was set at liberty, he made his way to the little 
 log church, entered the belfry, and proceeded to jangle the 
 church bells in a sort of wild, erratic chime. When the 
 
 1 It is shown as a district town on an of the present century. Seventy-five 
 
 oflRcial map of the Russian general staff or eighty years later, however, Gov- 
 
 published as late as 1883. ernor-geueral Fredericks is said to have 
 
 - The site of Zashiversk is about 3200 sent there a drunken and incorrigible 
 
 miles by the usually traveled route from exile named Tsigankof, who had been 
 
 Irkutsk and about 7000 miles from St. banished to Siberia for impertinence to 
 
 Petersburg. Exiles have been sent a gendarme officer in a St, Petersburg 
 
 there more than once. A political restaurant. [See newspaper Volshski 
 
 named Pik very nearly starved to death Vestnik, Kazan, September 23, 1885, and 
 
 there in the reign of Catherine II., newspaper Vostoc1moeObozrenie,St.'Pe- 
 
 from which I infer that the town was tersburg, April 24, 1886, p. 9.] 
 virtually extinct before the beginning
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTKATIVE PKOCESS 267 
 
 people of the town ran to the belfry in alarm and inquired 
 what was the matter, Schiller replied with dignity that he 
 wished the whole population to know that by the grace of 
 God, Herman Augustovich Schiller, after long and perilous 
 wanderings, had reached in safety the town of Sredni Kol- 
 imsk. Whether the mind of the exile had given way under 
 the prolonged strain of hardship and suffering, or whether, 
 as some assert, he had become intoxicated and rang the 
 chui'ch bells merely as a drunken freak, I do not know; 
 but the local police reported to the governor-general that 
 the " political " exile Schiller was disorderly and turbulent, 
 and that he had caused a public scandal before he had been 
 in Sredni Kolimsk twenty-four hours. Upon this report 
 the governor-general indorsed an order to remove the offen- 
 der to some place at least twelve versts distant from the 
 town. His idea probably was to have Schiller sent to some 
 small suburban \411age in the general neighborhood of 
 Sredni Kolimsk, but far enough away so that he could not 
 easily get into the town to make a disturbance. Unfortu- 
 nately there was no suburban village within a hundred 
 versts in any direction, and the local authorities, not know- 
 ing what else to do, carried the wretched druggist about 
 twelve versts out into the primeval wilderness, erected a 
 log cabin for him, and left him there — assuring him cheer- 
 fully, as they bade him good-by, that " kakuibud " [some- 
 how or othfer] he would get along. With a little help occa- 
 sionally from wandering Chukchi and Tongusi he did get 
 along, catching fish, gathering berries, and snaring ptarmi- 
 gan for his subsistence, and living, for several years, the 
 life of a continental Crusoe. What eventually became of 
 him I do not know. 
 
 Of course cases of this kind are exceptional. The Rus- 
 sian Government does not make a practice of sending to 
 the arctic regions druggists who wish to change their places 
 of business, neither does it regularly banish to the territory 
 of Yakutsk students who express admii-ation for Skobelef.
 
 l2t)8 SIBERIA 
 
 Novortlieloss, under a system of adiniiiistratioii that allows 
 ail irresponsible official to punish at his own discretion, 
 sueh results are not only possible but probable. 
 
 In tlie year 1874, a young student named Egor Lazaref 
 was arrested in one of the south-eastern provinces of Euro- 
 pean Eussia upon the charge of carrying on a secret revo- 
 lutionary propaganda. He was taken to St. Petersburg 
 and kei>t in solitary confinement in the House of Prelimi- 
 nary Detention and in the fortress of Petropavlovsk for 
 about four years. He was then tried with one hundred and 
 ninety-two other political suspects before the Governing 
 Senate, found to be not guilty, and acquitted.^ As there 
 still existed, however, a possibility that he might be guilty 
 on some future occasion, he was punished in advance by 
 being sent as a soldier to a regiment then engaged in active 
 service in the Trans-Caucasus.- One would suppose that to 
 be arrested without cause, to be held four years in solitary 
 confinement, to be declared innocent by the highest court 
 in the empire, and then to be punished with compulsory 
 military service in Asia Minor for an offense prophetically 
 foreseen, but not yet committed, would make a revolution- 
 ist, if not a terrorist, out of the most peaceable citizen ; but 
 Mr. Lazaref, as soon as he had been released from the 
 armj^, quietly completed his education in the university, 
 studied law, and began the practice of his profession in the 
 city of Saratof on the Volga. He had no more trouble with 
 the Government until the summer of 1884, when a police 
 
 1 Official certified copy of the sen- dier after the expiration of "his term of 
 
 fence in the case of " the 193," p. 8. hard labor in the Omsk convict prison. 
 
 - This was a favorite method of I cannot now recall any case in which 
 
 Nicholas for the punishment of literary Nicholas insulted his own courts by 
 
 men and students whose opinions were punishing administratively persons 
 
 too liberal for his taste. He compelled whom they had just declared to be in- 
 
 the gifted Russian poet Shevchenko to nocent, but such cases were common 
 
 serve ten years as a common soldier, in the reign of Alexander II. Most of 
 
 and kept him most of that time in the the prisoners acquitted by the Senate 
 
 hottest and most desolate part of Gen- in the trial of " the 193 " were immedi- 
 
 tral Asia — the district of Mangishldk. ately rearrested and banished by ad- 
 
 The talented novelist Dostoyefski was ministrative process, or sent as common 
 
 also forced to sei've as a common sol- soldiers into the ranks.
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 269 
 
 officer suddenly appeared to him one morning and said that 
 the governor of the province would like to see him. Mr. 
 Lazaref, who was on pleasant personal terms with the 
 governor, went at once to the latter's office, where he was 
 coolly informed that he was to be exiled by administrative 
 process to Eastern Siberia for three years. Mr. Lazaref 
 stood aghast. 
 
 " May I ask your high excellency for what reason ? " he 
 finally inquired. 
 
 " I do not know," replied the governor. " I have received 
 orders to that effect from the Ministry of the Interior, and 
 that is all I know about it." 
 
 Through the influence of friends in St. Petersburg, Mr. 
 Lazaref obtained a respite of two weeks in which to settle 
 up his affairs, and he was then sent as a prisoner to Moscow. 
 He reached that city after the last party of political exiles 
 had been despatched for the season, and had to live in the 
 Moscow forwarding prison until the next spring. While 
 there he wi-ote a respectful letter to the Department of 
 Imperial Police, asking, as a favor, that he might be in- 
 formed for what reason he was to be exiled to Eastern 
 Siberia. The reply that he received was comprised in two 
 lines, and was as follows: " You are to be put under police 
 surveillance in Eastern Siberia because you have not aban- 
 doned your previous criminal activity." In other words, 
 he was to be banished to the Trans-Baikal because he had 
 not "abandoned" the "previous criminal activity " of which 
 a court of justice had found him not guilty ! In the Mos- 
 cow forwarding prison, soon after Mr. Lazaref 's arrival, a 
 number of the political prisoners were comparing experi- 
 ences one day, and asking one another for what offenses 
 they had been condemned to banishment. One said that 
 forbidden books had been found in his house; another 
 said that he had been accused of carrying on a revolutionary 
 propaganda ; and a third admitted that he had been a mem- 
 ber of a secret society. Finally Mr. Lazaref's turn came.
 
 •J 70 SIBEKIA 
 
 and upon being asked why lie was on his way to Siberia, 
 lie replied simply, " I don't know." 
 
 " Don't know!" exelainied one of his comrades. " Did n't 
 your father have a black-and-white cow?" 
 
 "Very likely," said Mr. Lazaref. " He had a lot of cows." 
 
 " Well ! " rejoined his comrade triumphantly, "what more 
 would you have ? That 's enough to exile twenty men — 
 and yet he says he does n't know ! " 
 
 On the 10th of May, 1885, Mr. Lazaref left Moscow with 
 an exile party for Siberia, and on the 10th of October, 1885, 
 after twenty-two weeks of travel "by etape,'''' reached the 
 town of Chita, in the Trans-Baikal, where I had the plea- 
 sure of making his acquaintance. 
 
 The grotesque injustice, the heedless cruelty, and the 
 preposterous " mistakes " and " misunderstandings " that 
 make the history of administrative exile in Russia seem to 
 an American like the recital of a wild nightmare are due to 
 the complete absence, in the Russian form of government, 
 of checks upon the executive power, and the almost equally 
 complete absence of official responsibility for unjust or 
 illegal action. The Minister of the Interior, in dealing with 
 jjoliticals, is almost wholly unrestrained by law ; and as it is 
 utterly impossible for him personally to examine all of the 
 immense number of political cases that come to him for 
 final decision, he is virtually forced to delegate a part of his 
 irresponsible power to chiefs of police, chiefs of gendarmes, 
 governors of provinces, and subordinates in his own minis- 
 try. They in turn are compelled, for similar reasons, to 
 intrust a part of their authority and discretion to officers of 
 still lower grade; and the latter, who often are stupid, 
 ignorant, or unscrupulous men, are the persons who really 
 make the investigations, the searches, and the examinations 
 upon which the life or liberty of an accused citizen may 
 depend. Theoretically, the Minister of the Interior, aided 
 by a council composed of three of his own subordinates and 
 two officers from the Ministry of Justice, reviews and
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTRATIVE PROCESS 271 
 
 reexamines the cases of all political offenders who are dealt 
 with by administrative process ; ^ but practically he does 
 nothing of the kind, and it is impossible that he should do 
 anything of the kind for the very simple reason that he has 
 not the time. 
 
 In the years 1886 and 1887 there came before the Depart- 
 ment of Justice 1883 political cases, involving no less than 
 2972 persons.- A very large proportion of these cases were 
 dealt with by administrative process, and if the Minister of 
 the Interior had given to each one of them a half, or one- 
 quarter, of the study which was absolutely essential to a 
 clear comprehension of it, he would have had no time to 
 attend to anything else. As a matter of fact he did not 
 give the cases such study, but, as a rule, simply signed the 
 papers that came up to him from below. Of course he 
 would not have signed the order for the exile of Mr. Kor- 
 olenko to the province of Yakutsk if he had known that the 
 whole charge against the young novelist was based on a 
 mistake ; nor would he have signed the order for the exile 
 of Mr. Borodin if he had been aware that the magazine arti- 
 cle for which the author was banished had been approved 
 by the St. Petersburg Committee of Censorship. He ac- 
 cepted the statements passed up to him by a long line of 
 subordinate officials, and signed his name merely as a for- 
 mality and as a matter of course. How easy it is in Russia 
 to get a high official's signature to any sort of a document 
 may be illustrated by an anecdote that I have every reason 
 to believe is absolutely true. A stola-nacJidlnik, or head of 
 a bureau, in the provincial administration of Tobolsk, while 
 boasting one day about his power to shape and direct gov- 
 ernmental action, made a wager with another cJiinovnik 
 that he could get the governor of the province — the late 
 Governor Lisogorski — to sign a manuscript copy of the 
 
 iSee "Rules Relating to Measures 2 Report of the Minister of Justice 
 for the Preservation of National Order for 1886-7. 
 and Public Tranquillity." Appendix D.
 
 '212 SIBERIA 
 
 Lord's Prayer. He wrote the prayer out in the form of an 
 oftieial document on a sheet of stamped paper, numbered 
 it, attached tlie proper seal to it, and handed it to the gov- 
 ernor Avith a pile of other papers which required signature. 
 He won his wager. The governor duly signed the Lord's 
 Prayer, and it was probably as harmless an official docu- 
 ment as ever came out of his office. 
 
 How much of this sort of careless and reckless signing there 
 was in the cases of political oifenders dealt with by admin- 
 istrative process may be inferred from the fact that, when 
 the liberal minister Loris-Melikof came into power in 1880, 
 he found it necessary to appoint a revisory commission, 
 under the presidency of General Cherevin, to investigate 
 the cases of persons who had been exiled and put under 
 police supervision by administrative process, and to correct, 
 so far as possible, the "mistakes," "misunderstandings," 
 and " irregularities" against which the sufferers in all parts 
 of the empire began to protest as soon as the appointment 
 of a new Minister of the Interior gave them some reason to 
 hope that their complaints would be heeded. There were 
 said to be at that time 2800 political offenders in Siberia 
 and in various remote parts of European Russia who had 
 been exiled and put under police surveillance by adminis- 
 trative process. Up to the 23d of January, 1881, General 
 Cherevin's commission had examined the cases of 650 such 
 persons, and had recommended that 328, or more than half 
 of them, be immediately released and returned to their 
 homes.^ 
 
 Of course the only remedy for such a state of things as 
 this is to take the investigation of political offenses out of 
 the hands of an irresponsible police, put it into the courts, 
 where it belongs, and allow the accused to be defended there 
 by counsel of their own selection. This remedy, however, 
 the Government persistently refuses to adopt. The Moscow 
 
 1 An official annoiincement by the Grovernment, quoted in the newspaper 
 Sibir for Jan. 31, 1881, p. 1.
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTKATIVE PROCESS 273 
 
 Assembly of Nobles, at the suggestion of Mr. U. F. Samarin, 
 one of its members, sent a respectful but urgent memorial 
 to the Crown, recommending that every political exile who 
 had been dealt with by administrative process should be 
 given the right to demand a judicial investigation of his 
 case. The memorial went unheeded, and the Government, 
 I believe, did not even make a reply to it.^ 
 
 Before the year 1882 the rights, privileges, and obligations 
 of political offenders exiled to Siberia by administrative pro- 
 cess were set forth only in secret circular-letters, sent from 
 time to time by the Minister of the Interior to the governors 
 of the different Siberian provinces. Owing to changes in 
 the ministry, changes in circumstances, and changes of 
 ministerial policy, these circular-letters of instruction ulti- 
 mately became so contradictory, or so inconsistent one 
 with another, and led to so many " misunderstandings," 
 " irregularities," and collisions between the exiles and the 
 local authorities in the Siberian towns and villages, that 
 on the 12th of March, 188^ the Minister of the Interior 
 drew up, and the Tsar approved, a set of rules for the 
 better regulation of police surveillance and administrative 
 exile. An official copy of this paper, which I brought 
 back with me from Siberia, lies before me as I write. It is 
 entitled : " Rules Relating to Police Surveillance " [Poloz- 
 henie o Politseiskom Nadzore].- The first thing that strikes 
 the reader in a perusal of this document is the fact that it 
 declares exile and police surveillance to be, not jninisJiments 
 for crimes already committed, but measures of precaution 
 to prevent the commission of crimes that evil-minded men 
 may contemplate. The first section reads as follows : "Po- 
 lice surveillance [which includes administrative exile] is a 
 means of jDreventing crimes against the existing imperial 
 order [the present form of government] ; and it is applic- 
 able to all persons who are prejudicial to public tranquillity." 
 
 1 Newspaper Zemsfvo, 1881, No. 10, - For a translation of these "Eules" 
 P- 21. see appendix D. 
 
 18
 
 274 SIBEIUA 
 
 Tlie power to decide when a man is " prejudicial to public 
 tranquillity," and when exile and surveillance shall be re- 
 sortetl to as a means of " preventing crime," is vested in the 
 govi'rnors-geueral, the governors, and the police ; and in 
 the exercise of that power they pay quite as much attention 
 to the oi^inions that a man holds as to the acts that he com- 
 mits. They can hardly do otherwise. If they should wait 
 in all cases for the commission of criminal acts, they would 
 not be ^^ preventing crime," but merely watching and waiting 
 for it, while the object of administrative exile is to irrevent 
 crime by anticipation. Clearly, then, the only thing to be 
 done is to nip crime in the bud by putting under restraint, 
 or sending to Siberia, every man whose political opinions 
 are such as to raise a presumption that he will commit a 
 crime " against the existing imperial order " if he sees a 
 favorable opportunity for so doing. Administrative exile, 
 therefore, is directed against ideas and opinions from which 
 criminal acts may come, rather than against the criminal 
 ac^s themselves. It is designed to anticipate and prevent 
 the acts by suppressing or discouraging the opinions ; and, 
 such being the case, the document which lies before me 
 should be called, not " Rules Relating to Police Surveil- 
 lance," but "Rules for the Better Regulation of Private 
 Opinion."^ In the spirit of this latter title, the "Rules" are 
 interpreted by most of the Russian police. 
 
 The pretense that administrative exile is not a punish- 
 ment, but only a precaution, is a mere juggle with words. 
 The Government says, "We do not exile a man and put 
 him under police surveillance as a punishment for holding 
 certain opinions, but only as a means of preventing him 
 from giving such opinions outward expression in criminal 
 
 1 This is the view of the " Rules " cipal newspapers of the empire to 
 
 taken by the most competent Russian show the view generally taken of the 
 
 authorities. In the Annals of the "Rules," and some interesting and 
 
 faf/icrZanrZ for May, 1882, will be found pertinent remarks by Professor Kis- 
 
 avery full discussion of administrative tiakofski upon "punishment on sus- 
 
 exile, with quotations from the prin- picion."
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTKATIVE PROCESS 275 
 
 acts." If the banishment of a man to the province of 
 Yakutsk for five years is not a "punishment," then the 
 word " punishment " must have in Russian jurisprudence a 
 very pecuHar and restricted signification. In the case of 
 women and young girls a sentence of banishment to Eastern 
 Siberia is ahnost equivalent to a sentence of death, on 
 account of the terrible hardships of the journey and the 
 bad sanitary condition of the etapes — and yet the Govern- 
 ment says that exile by administrative process is not a 
 punishment ! 
 
 In 1884 a pretty and intelligent young girl named Sophia 
 Nikitina, who was attending school in Kiev, was banished 
 by administrative process to one of the remote provinces 
 of Eastern Siberia. In the winter of 1884-85, when she had 
 accomplished about 3000 miles of her terrible journey, she 
 was taken sick, on the road between Tomsk and Achinsk, 
 with typhus fever, contracted in one of the pestilential 
 etapes. Physicians are not sent with exile parties in Siberia, 
 and politicals who happen to be taken sick on the road are 
 carried forward, regardless of their condition and regardless 
 of the weather, until the party comes to a lazaret, or prison 
 hospital. There are only four such lazarets between Tomsk 
 and Irkutsk, a distance of about a thousand miles, and con- 
 sequently sick prisoners are sometimes carried in sleighs or 
 telegas, at a snail's pace, for a week or two — if they do not 
 die — before they finally obtain rest, a bed, and a physician. 
 How many days of cold and misery Miss Nikitina endured 
 on the road that winter after she was taken sick, and be- 
 fore she reached Achinsk and received medical treatment, 
 I do not know ; but in the Achinsk lazaret her brief life 
 ended. It must have been a satisfaction to her, as she lay 
 dying in a foul prison hospital, 3000 miles from her home, 
 to think that she was not undergoing "punishment" for 
 anything that she had done, but was merely being subjected 
 to necessary restraint by a parental Government, in order 
 that she might not sometime be tempted to do something
 
 L'7t) SIBERIA 
 
 that WiUiUl liave a tendency to raise a presumption that her 
 presence in Kiev was about to become more or less " pre- 
 judicial to public tranquillity." 
 
 I have not space for a quarter of the evidence that I col- 
 Kn'tcil ill Siberia to show that administrative exile is not 
 only cruelly unjust, but, in hundreds of cases, is a punish- 
 ment of barbarous severity. If it attained the objects that 
 it is supposed to attain, there might, from the point of view 
 of a despotic Government, be some excuse if not justifica- 
 tion for it ; but it does not attain such objects. Regarded 
 even from the side of expediency, it is uselessly and need- 
 lessly cruel. In a recent official report to the Minister of 
 the Interior, Major-General Nicolai Baranof, the governor 
 of the province of Archangel, in discussing the subject of 
 administrative exile saj^s : 
 
 From the experience of previous years, and from my own per- 
 sonal observation, I have come to the conclusion that administra- 
 tive exile for political reasons is much more likely to spoil the 
 character of a man than to reform it. The transition from a life 
 of comfort to a life of poverty, from a social life to a life in which 
 there is no society whatever, and from a hfe of activity to a life of 
 compulsory inaction, produces such ruinous consequences, that, not 
 infrequently, especially of late, we find the political exiles going 
 insane, attempting to commit suicide, and even committing suicide. 
 All this is the direct result of the abnormal conditions under which 
 exile compels an intellectually cultivated person to live. There 
 has not yet been a single case where a man, suspected with good 
 reason of political untrustworthiness and exiled by administrative 
 process, has returned from such banishment reconciled to the 
 Government, convinced of his error, and changed into a useful 
 member of society and a faithful servant of the Throne. On the 
 other hand, it often happens that a man who has been exiled in 
 consequence of a misunderstanding, or an administrative mistake, 
 becomes politically untrustworthy for the first time in the place to 
 which he has been banished — partly by reason of his association 
 there with real enemies of the Government, and partly as a result 
 of personal exasperation. Furthermore, if a man is infected with 
 anti-Government ideas, all the circumstances of exile tend only
 
 EXILE BY ADMINISTKATIVE PROCESS 277 
 
 to increase the infection, to sharpen his faculties, and to change 
 him from a theoretical to a practical — that is, an extremely dan- 
 gerous — man. If, on the contrary, he has not been guilty of 
 taking part in a revolutionary movement, exile, by force of the 
 same circumstances, develops in his mind the idea of revolution, 
 or, in other words, produces a result directly opposite to that 
 which it was intended to produce. No matter how exile by admin- 
 istrative process may be regulated and restricted, it will always 
 suggest to the mind of the exiled person the idea of uncontrolled 
 official license, and this alone is sufficient to prevent any reforma- 
 tion whatever. 1 
 
 Truer words than these were never written by a high 
 Russian official, and so far as the practical expediency of 
 exile by administrative process is concerned, I should be 
 content to rest the ease against it upon this frank report of 
 the governor of Archangel. The subject, however, may be 
 regarded from a point of view other than that of expe- 
 diency — namely, from the point of view of morals, justice, 
 and humanity. That side of the question I shall reserve 
 for further discussion in later chapters. 
 
 1 Juridical Messenger (the journalistic organ of the Moscow Juridical Society, 
 or Bar Association), October, 1883, p. 332.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 
 
 ri'lIIE rapidity with which the season of good weather 
 JL and good roads was passing, and the length and ardu- 
 ous nature of the journey that still lay before us, compelled 
 us to make our stay in the city of Ust Kamenogorsk very 
 brief. The work that we accomplished there, however, had 
 an important bearing upon the prosecution of our re- 
 searches in the field of political exile, and rendered our 
 success in that field almost certain. I had always antici- 
 pated great difficulty in ascertaining where political exiles 
 were to be found, and how they could be approached with- 
 out the asking, of too many dangerous questions. We 
 could not expect in every town to stumble, by good luck, 
 upon a liberal and sympathetic official who would aid us in 
 our search, and yet experience had shown us the absolute 
 necessity of knowing definitely in advance where to go and 
 whom to approach. We had already passed through half 
 a dozen towns or villages where there were colonies of in- 
 teresting political exiles, and where, if we had been aware 
 of their existence, we should have stopj^ed ; but we had no 
 clues whatever to them, and I feared that if, in searching 
 for clues, we made a practice of asking questions at random, 
 we should soon attract the attention of the police and be 
 called upon to explain what business we had with political 
 exiles, and why we were everywhere looking them up. At 
 Ust Kamenogorsk this source of embarrassment was fi- 
 nally removed. We not only obtained there a mass of use-
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 279 
 
 ful information and a great number of valuable hints and 
 suggestions, but we carried away with us notes of recom- 
 mendation to people who could aid us, letters of introduc- 
 tion to liberal officials in the towns through which we were 
 yet to pass, and a manuscript list, or directory, in which 
 were set forth the names, ages, professions, and places of 
 banishment of nearly seven hundred political exiles in all 
 parts of Siberia. After we had obtained these letters of 
 introduction and this " underground " directory, the GTov- 
 ernment could have prevented us from investigating the 
 exile system only by removing us forcibly from the coun- 
 try. We no longer had to grope our way by asking haz- 
 ardous questions at random. We could take every step 
 with a certainty of not making a mistake, and could go, 
 in every \allage, directly to the persons whom we wished 
 to see. 
 
 On Monday, August 10th, we dined for the last time with 
 the politicals in Ust Kamenogorsk, sang to them once more, 
 by special request, " John Brown's Body " and " The Star- 
 spangled Banner," and at six o'clock in the evening set out 
 by post for Barnaul and Tomsk. The road, as far as the 
 post-station of Pianoyarofskaya, was the same that we had 
 followed in going from Semipalatinsk to the Altai Station. 
 The country that it intersected seemed to us more parched 
 and barren than ever, but here and there, in the moister 
 places, we passed large flocks of fat-tailed sheep, guarded 
 and watched by Kirghis horsemen, whose hooded heads 
 and black faces, with the immense goggles of horsehair 
 netting that they wore to protect their eyes from the glare 
 of the sun, gave them an almost demoniacal appearance. 
 Occasionally, in the outskirts of the villages, we saw fields 
 of cultivated sunflowers, or of half-ripe watermelons and 
 cantaloups ; but as a rule the steppe was uncultivated 
 and could not be cultiv^ated without artificial irrigation. 
 The weather was still very warm, and in almost every vil- 
 lage we noticed naked children playing in the streets.
 
 280 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 »liiii\i\\Miii^^ 
 
 A i'OM-bXAllUN ON TllK BAKNAL]. KOAD.
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 281 
 
 At Pianoyarofskaya we left the Semipalatinsk road and 
 the valley of the Irtish, and, turning to the northward, 
 crossed the low divide which separates the water-shed of 
 the Irtish from that of the Ob, and entered the province of 
 Tomsk. A large quantity of rain had fallen, and had been 
 followed by a comfortable temperature; but the muddy 
 roads hindered us, and the post-stations, where we got 
 very little to eat, were filthy and swarming with bedbugs. 
 In the stations of Shemanaiefskaya and Saiishkiua, after 
 vainly attempting to sleep, I sat up and wrote throughout 
 the whole of two nights, killing fifteen or twenty bedbugs 
 each night on my writing-table. The lack of proper food, 
 the constant jolting, and the impossibility of getting any 
 sleep, soon reduced us to an extremely jaded and exhausted 
 condition, and when we reached the town of Barnaiil, Fri- 
 day afternoon, August 14, after an almost sleepless journey 
 of ninety-six hours, I was hardly able to sit up. 
 
 Barnaiil is a large town of 17,000 inhabitants, and is the 
 center of the rich and important mining district of the Al- 
 tai. It contains an unusual number of pretentious dwell- 
 ing-houses and residences with columns and imposing 
 facades, but most of them have fallen into decay. They 
 were erected many years ago, at a time when a mining offi- 
 cer of the Crown in Barnaul received 2000 or 3000 rubles a 
 year as salary, and stole 100,000 rubles a year by means of 
 "cooked" accounts, and when, according to tradition, he 
 paid twice the amount of his own salary to a French 
 governess for his children, and as much more to a French 
 culinary chef, and sent his soiled linen to Paris by mail to 
 be washed and starched. 
 
 The mines of the Altai are, for the most part, the private 
 property of the Tsar. In the nine years from 1870 to 1879 
 they produced 6984 pounds of gold, 206,964 jDOunds of 
 silver, 9,639,620 pounds of copper, and 13,221,396 pounds of 
 lead. A large part of the gold and silver ore is smelted in 
 Barnaiil.
 
 282 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 MARKET-PLACE m BARNAUL. 
 
 Mr. Frost, with an amount of enterprise which was in 
 the highest degree creditable to him, explored the city with 
 sketch-book and camera, and took photographs of the bazar,
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 283 
 
 of peasant womeu carrying stones on hand-barrows near 
 the mining "works," and of a curious building, not far 
 from our hotel, which seemed to have been intended for a 
 Russo-Ionic temple, but which afterward had apparently 
 been transformed into a jail, in order to bring it more 
 nearly into harmony with the needs of the place. I should 
 have accompanied him upon some of these excursions, but 
 I was nearly sick from sleeplessness. The dirty hotel in 
 Barnaiil was alive with bedbugs, and I was compelled to 
 sleep every night on a table, or rather stand, about four 
 feet long by three wide, set out in the middle of the room. 
 Owing to the fact that I generally rolled off or capsized the 
 table as soon as I lost consciousness, my sleep was neither 
 prolonged nor refreshing, and before we left Barnaiil I was 
 reduced to a state bordering on frenzy. Almost the only 
 pleasant recollection that I have of the city is the memory 
 of receiving there eighteen letters from home — the first I 
 had had since our departure from Tinmen. 
 
 Tuesday afternoon, August 18th, we left Barnaiil for 
 Tomsk. The part of Western Siberia that lies between these 
 two. cities is a fertile rolling country, diversified by birch 
 groves and wide stretches of cultivated land, and suggestive 
 a little of the southern part of New England. Mr. Frost, 
 whose home is in Massachusetts, said he could easily im- 
 agine that he was " up Berkshire way." The scenery, al- 
 though never wild, is everywhere pleasing and picturesque ; 
 the meadows, even in August, are carpeted with flowers, 
 and the greenness and freshness of the vegetation, to a 
 traveler who comes from the desert-like steppes of the upper 
 Irtish, are a source of surprise and gratification. Near the 
 first station we passed the small lake of Kolivan, which is 
 celebrated in all that part of Siberia for the picturesque 
 beauty of its scenery, and Mr. Frost made a sketch of some 
 fantastic rocks by the roadside. It is a favorite place of 
 resort in summer for the wealthy citizens of Barnaiil and 
 Tomsk. It had been our intention to spend a day or two
 
 284 
 
 SIBEKIA 
 
 in exploring this picturesque sheet of water, but we finally 
 decided that we could not spare the time. We crossed the 
 riv(^r Ob on a curious par6)n, or ferry-boat, consisting of a 
 large platform snpported upon two open hulks and pro- 
 
 jjelled ]jy a paddle- wlit^ei at oiic c^iid, liit- cratik ul which 
 was turned by two ragged-bearded old /iiiuMks. Most of 
 the Siberian rivers are crossed by means of what are known 
 as "pendulum ferries," in which the boat is anchored by a 
 long cable made fast in the middle of the stream, and is
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 285 
 
 swung from shore to shore pendulum-wise by the force of 
 the current. The Ob ferry-boat, of which Mr. Frost made 
 a sketch, was the first one we had seen propelled by a 
 paddle-wheel. 
 
 So far as I can remember, there was little on the route 
 between Barnaul and Tomsk to attract a traveler's atten- 
 tion. I was terribly jaded and exhausted from lack of 
 sleep, and spent a large part of the time in a state which 
 was little more than one of semi-consciousness. 
 
 At four o'clock on the afternoon of Thursday, August 20th, 
 we rode at last into the city of Tomsk. We had made, with 
 horses, in the 51 days which had elapsed since our depar- 
 ture from Tinmen, a journey of more than 1500 miles, in the 
 course of which we had inspected two large prisons, made 
 the acquaintance of three colonies of political exiles, and 
 visited the wildest part of the Russian Altai. We drove at 
 once to the European Hotel, which is the building shown 
 at the extreme right of the illustration on page 300, secured 
 a fairly comfortable room, and as soon as possible after 
 dinner removed our clothing and stretched our weary 
 bodies out in civilized beds for the first time in nearly 
 two months. 
 
 Tomsk, which is the capital of the pro"\dnce of the same 
 name, is a city of 31,000 inhabitants, and is situated partly 
 on a bluff, and partly on low land adjoining the river Tom, 
 a short distance above its junction with the Ob. In point 
 of size and importance it is the second city in Siberia, and 
 in enterprise, intelligence, and prosperity it seemed to me 
 to be the first. It contains about 8000 dwelling-houses and 
 other buildings, 250 of which are brick ; 33 churches, in- 
 cluding a Roman Catholic church, a Mohammedan mosque, 
 and 3 Jewish synagogues ; 26 schools, attended by about 
 2500 scholars ; a very good public library ; 2 tri-weekly 
 newspapers, which, however, the Minister of the Interior 
 keeps closed a large part of the time on account of their 
 " pernicious tendency " ; and a splendid new university
 
 286 SIBERIA 
 
 building." The streets of the city are not paved and are 
 very iniporfeetly lighted, but at the time of our visit they 
 seemed to be reasonably clean and well cared for, and the 
 town, as a whole, impressed me much more favorably than 
 many towns of its class in European Russia. 
 
 The province of which Tomsk is the capital has an area 
 of 3o0,000 square miles, and is therefore about seven times 
 as large as the State of Pennsylvania. It contains 8 towns, 
 each of which has on an average 14,000 inhabitants, and 
 2719 villages, each of which has on an average 366 inhabi- 
 tants, so that its total population is about 1,100,000. Of 
 this number 90,000 are aborigines, and 30,000 communal 
 exiles, or eommon criminals banished from European Rus- 
 sia. The southern part of the province is very fertile, is 
 well timbered and watered, and has a fairly good climate. 
 The 3,600,000 acres of land which it has under cultiva- 
 tion yield annually about 30,000,000 bushels of grain and 
 4,500,000 bushels of potatoes, with smaller quantities of 
 hemp, flax, and tobacco, while the pastures around the 
 villages support about 2,500,000 head of live stock. 
 
 From these statistics it will be seen that, in spite of bad 
 government, restricted immigration, and the demoralizing 
 influence of criminal exile, the province of Tomsk is not 
 wholly barren or uncivilized. If it were in the hands of 
 Americans, and if free immigration from European Russia 
 
 1 The building of the Tomsk uui- versity repeatedly upon this ground, 
 versity had been completed at the time [^Grazhdanin, Nos. 275 and 279, St. 
 of ourvisitjbuttheGovernmeiitseemed Petersburg, 1888.] In July, 1888, how- 
 to be unable or unwilling to tl\row the ever, after three years' consideration, 
 institution open for the reception of the Government decided to open one 
 students. It was thought and said, by " faculty," or department, of the new 
 a certain class of reactionists and ob- university, and selected, as the most 
 scurantists, that a Siberian university useful and least "dangerous," the de- 
 would be a nucleus or rallying-point partment of medicine. Since that time 
 for "Siberian patriots," that it would ithasbeen possible for young Siberians 
 foster a spirit of independence and a to get a university training in medicine, 
 desire for separation from Eui'opean but not in any branch of human know- 
 Russia, and that, consequently, it ought ledge that has a tendency to " excite the 
 not to be opened at all. Prince Mesh- mind," such as history, political econ- 
 eherski, for example, in his newspaper omy, or law. 
 Grazhdanin, attacked the Tomsk uni-
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 
 
 287 
 
 PEASANT WOMEN AT WORK IN BAKNAUL. 
 
 to it were allowed, it might soon become as densely popu- 
 lated and as prosperous as any of our northwestern States. 
 Its resources are almost illimitable, and all that it needs is 
 good government and freedom for the play of private enter-
 
 2SS SIBERIA 
 
 prise. As long, however, as a despotic administration at 
 St. Petersburg- ean gag its newspapers for months at a time, 
 keep its university closed, choose the teachers and prescribe 
 the courses of study for its schools, prohibit the reading of 
 the best books in its libraries, bind its population hand and 
 foot by a I'igid passport system, govern it through corrupt 
 and wretchedly paid cJim6v)iiA-s, and pour into it every year 
 a flood of common criminals from European Russia, just 
 so long will it remain what it now is — a naturally enter- 
 prising and promising colony strangled by oppressive and 
 unnecessary guardianship. The Government, just at the 
 present time, proposes to develop the resources of the prov- 
 ince by building through it a railroad. It might much 
 better loosen the grasp in which it holds the people by the 
 throat, permit them to exercise some judgment with regard 
 to the management of their own affairs, allow them freely 
 to discuss their needs and plans in their own newspapers, 
 abolish restrictions upon personal liberty of movement, stop 
 the sending there of criminal exiles, and then let the prov- 
 ince develop itself. It does not need " development " half 
 as much as it needs to be let alone. 
 
 Our first step in Tomsk was to call upon the political 
 exiles, and upon several army officers to whom we had let- 
 ters of introduction, and ascertain from them the facts 
 that were necessary for our guidance. We were received 
 by everybody with the utmost courtesy and kindness, and 
 Colonel Yagodkin, the chief military officer of the district, 
 not only welcomed us to his house with cordial hospitality, 
 but took a friendly interest in all of our prison investiga- 
 tions. Only a day or two after our arrival he called at our 
 hotel to inform us that a convict barge from Tiumen had 
 arrived that morning at the steamer-landing two or three 
 miles from the city, and to say that if we would like to see 
 the reception of a convict party, he would go to the landing 
 with us and introduce us to the chief officer of the local exile 
 bureau. I thanked him for his thoughtfulness, and in ten
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 
 
 289 
 
 minutes Mr. Frost, Colonel Yagodkin, and I were driving 
 furiously over a muddy road toward the pristan, or land- 
 ing-place. Although we made all possible haste, the pris- 
 oners had disembarked before we reached our destination. 
 We found them assembled in two dense gray throngs at the 
 ends of a long wooden shed, which was surrounded and 
 turned into a sort of cattle-pen by a high plank wall. Here 
 they were identified, counted, and turned over by the con- 
 
 KOLIVAN LAKE. 
 
 voy officer to the warden of the Tomsk forwarding prison. 
 The shed was divided transversely through the middle by 
 a low wooden barricade, at one end of which was a fenced 
 inclosure, about ten feet square, for the accommodation of 
 the officers who had to take part in the reception of the 
 party. About half the exiles had been formally "received" 
 and were standing at the eastern end of the shed, while the 
 other half were grouped in a dense throng at the western 
 end, waiting for their names to be called. The women, 
 19
 
 290 SIBERIA 
 
 wilt) stood huddled together in a group by themselves, were 
 mostly ill peasant costumes, with bright-colored kerchiefs 
 over their heads, and their faces, I thought, showed great 
 anxiety and apprehension. The men all wore long gray 
 overcoats over coarse linen shirts and trousers ; most of 
 them were in chains, and the bare heads of the convicts 
 and the penal colonists had l)een half shaved longitudinally 
 in such a way that one side of the scalp was smooth and 
 blue while the other side was hidden by long, neglected 
 hair. Soldiers stood here and there around the shed, lean- 
 ing upon their bayoneted rifles, and inside the little inclos- 
 ure were the convoy officer of the party, the warden and 
 the surgeon of the Tomsk forwarding prison, the chief of 
 the local bureau of exile administration, and two or three 
 other officers, all in full uniform. Colonel Yagodkin intro- 
 duced us as American travelers who desired to see the re- 
 ception of an exile party, and we were invited to stand 
 inside the inclosure. 
 
 The officer who was conducting the examination of the 
 convicts drew a folded paper from a large bundle in his 
 hand, opened and glanced at it, and then shouted, " Nikolai 
 Koltsof ! " A thin, pale man, with heavy, wearied eyes and 
 a hopeless expression of face, who was standing in the 
 front rank of the exile party, picked up the gray linen bag 
 that lay beside him on the floor, and with a slow clink, 
 clink, clink of chains walked to the inclosure. The exam- 
 ining officer compared his face carefully with a photo- 
 graph attached to the stateini spisak or " identification 
 paper," in order to make sure that the pale man had not 
 " exchanged names " with some other exile, while a Cossack 
 orderly examined him from head to foot and rummaged 
 through his bag to see that he had neither lost nor sur- 
 reptitiously sold the articles of clothing that he had re- 
 ceived in Moscow or Tiumen, and that his stateini spisak 
 called for. 
 
 " Is everything there 1 " inquired the officer.
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 291 
 
 " Everything," replied the Cossack. 
 
 " Stupai ! " [Pass on !] said the lieutenant ; and the pale- 
 faced man shouldered his bag and joined the ranks of the 
 "received" at the eastern end of the shed. 
 
 " The photographs are a new thing," whispered Colonel 
 Yagodkin to me ; " and only a part of the exiles have them. 
 They are intended to break up the practice of exchanging 
 names and identities." 
 
 "But why should they wish to exchange names?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 "If a man is sentenced to hard labor at the mines," he 
 replied, " and has a little money, he always tries to buy 
 secretly the name and identity of some poor devil of a 
 colonist who longs desperately for a drink of vodka, or who 
 wants money with which to gamble. Of ^iourse the con- 
 voy officer has no means of preventing this sort of transac- 
 tion, because he cannot possibly remember the names and 
 faces of the four or five hundred men in his party. If 
 the convict succeeds in finding a colonist who is willing to 
 sell his name, he takes the colonist's place and is assigned 
 a residence in some village, while the colonist takes the 
 convict's place and goes to the mines. Hundreds of hard- 
 labor convicts escape in this way."^ 
 
 " Hassan Abdallimof ! " called the examining officer. No 
 one moved. 
 
 "Hassan Abdallimof!" shouted the Cossack orderly, 
 more loudly. 
 
 " Go on. Stumpy ; that 's you ! " said half a dozen exiles 
 in an undertone as they pushed out of the throng a short, 
 thickly set, bow-legged Tatar, upon whose flat, swarthy 
 face there was an expression of uncertainty and bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 " He does n't know Russian, your High Nobility," said 
 one of the exiles respectfully, " and he is glupovati " [dull- 
 witted]. 
 
 1 1 shall explain this practice of exchanging names more fully in a later chapter.
 
 292 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 " Bring him here," said the officer to the Cossack orderly. 
 
 When Hassan had been examined, he did not shoulder 
 his bag and go to his place as he should have done, but be- 
 gan to bow and gesticulate, and to make supplications in 
 
 the Tatar language, becoming more and more excited as 
 he talked. 
 
 " What does he say f " inquired the officer. " Find some 
 soldier who knows Tatar." An interpreter was soon found 
 and Hassan repeated his story.
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 293 
 
 "He says, your High Nobility," translated the inter- 
 preter, " that when he was arrested they took eight rubles 
 from him and told him the money would be given back to 
 him in Siberia. He wants to know if he cannot have some 
 of it now to buy tea." 
 
 "Nyettoo chai ! " [No tea!] said the Tatar mournfully, 
 with a gesture of utter desolation. 
 
 "To the devil with him!" cried the officer furiously. 
 " What does the blank blank mean by delaying the recep- 
 tion of the party with such a trifle ? This is no place to 
 talk about tea ! He '11 receive his money when he gets to 
 his destination. Away with him ! " And the poor Tatar 
 was hustled into the eastern end of the shed. 
 
 "Ivan Dontremember — the red-headed," shouted the 
 examining officer. 
 
 " That 's a hrodydg " (a vagrant or tramp), whispered 
 Colonel Yagodkin to me as a sun-burned, red-headed muz- 
 hik in chains and leg-fetters, and with a tea-kettle hanging 
 from his belt, approached the inclosure. "He has been 
 arrested while wandering around in Western Siberia, and as 
 there is something in his past history that he does n't want 
 brought to light, he refuses to disclose his identity, and 
 answers all questions with 'I don't remember.' The tramps 
 all call themselves 'Ivan Dontremember,' and they 're 
 generally a bad lot. The penalty for belonging to the 
 ' Dontremember ' family is five years at the mines." The 
 examining officer had no photogi^aph of "Ivan Dontre- 
 member, the red-headed," and the latter's identity was es- 
 tablished by ascertaining the number of teeth that he had 
 lost, and by examining a scar over his right ear. 
 
 One by one the exiles passed in this way before the ex- 
 amining officer until all had been identified, counted, and 
 turned over, and then the warden of the Tomsk forwarding 
 prison gave a receipt to the convoy officer of the barge for 
 551 prisoners, including 71 children under 15 years of age, 
 who were accompanying their fathers or mothers into exile.
 
 294 SIBEKIA 
 
 At the end of the verilication and reception some of the 
 offieers returned to the city ; but Colonel Yagodkin, Mr. 
 Frost, and I remained to see the siirgi(»al examination of 
 the sick and disabled, and to inspect the convict barge. 
 Doctor Orzheshko, the surgeon of the Tomsk prison, then 
 took the place that had been occupied by the examining 
 officer, laid a stethoscope and two or three other instru- 
 ments upon a small table beside him, and began a rapid 
 examination of a long line of incapacitated men, some of 
 whom were really sick and some of whom were merely 
 shamming. The object of the examination was to ascer- 
 tain how many of the prisoners were unable to walk, in 
 order that the requisite number of telegas might be pro- 
 ^dded for their transportation to the city. The first man 
 who presented himself was thin, pale, and haggard, and in 
 reply to a question from the surgeon said, with a sepulchral 
 cough, that his breast hurt him and that he could not 
 breathe easily. Dr. Orzheshko felt his pulse, put a stetho- 
 scope to his lungs, listened for a moment to the respiratory 
 murmur, and then said briefly, " Pass on ; you can walk." 
 The next man had a badh^ swollen ankle, upon which his 
 leg-fetter pressed heavily, evidently causing him great pain. 
 He looked imploringly at the doctor while the latter exam- 
 ined the swollen limb, as if he would beseech him to have 
 mercy ; but he said not a word, and when his case was ap- 
 proved and a wagon was ordered for him, he crossed him- 
 self devoutly three times, and his lips moved noiselessly, 
 as if he were saying softly under his breath, " I thank thee, 
 O God ! " 
 
 There were forty or fifty men in the line of prisoners 
 awaiting examination, and the surgeon disposed of them at 
 the rate of about one a minute. Some had fever, some 
 were suffering from rheumatism, some were manifestly in 
 an advanced stage of prison consumption, and all seemed 
 to me sick, wretched, or weak enough to deserve wagons ; 
 but the experienced senses of the surgeon quickly detected
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 
 
 295 
 
 the malingerers and the men who were only slightly in- 
 disposed, and quietly bade them " Pass on ! " At the end 
 of the examination Dr. Orzheshko reported to the prison 
 
 FEKKY ON THE RIVER OH MAU l;Ai;.NAUL 
 
 warden that there were twenty-five persons in the party 
 who were not able to walk to the city, and who, therefore, 
 would have to be carried. The necessary wagons were 
 ordered, the sick and the women with infants were placed
 
 29G SIBERIA 
 
 ill tlieiii, and jit tli<^ order "Stroisa!" [For^i ranks!] the 
 convicts, witli a confused clinking of chains, took posi- 
 tions outside tlie shed in a somewliat ragged cohinin ; the 
 soldiers, with shouldered riHes, went to their stations in 
 front, beside, and behind the party ; and Mr. Pepelaief, the 
 chief of the local exile bureau, stepping upon a chair, cried, 
 "Nu rebatta" [Well, boys], "have you anything to say or 
 any complaints to make ? " 
 
 " No ; nothing, your Nobility," replied seventy-five or a 
 hundred voices. 
 
 "Well, then, S'Bogem " [Go with God]. 
 
 The soldiers threw open the wooden gate of the yard or 
 pen ; the under-officer shouted " Ready — March ! " and 
 with a renewed jingling of multitudinous chains, the gray 
 column moved slowly out into the muddy road. 
 
 As soon as an opportunity presented itself. Colonel Ya- 
 godkin introduced us to Mr. Pepelaief, the chief officer of 
 the local exile bureau, w^ho supervised the reception and 
 the forwarding of exile parties, the equipment of the con- 
 victs with clothing, and the examination and verification of 
 their papers. Mr. Pepelaief, a rather tall, thin man, with a 
 hard, cold face, greeted us politely, but did not seem pleased 
 to see us there, and was not disposed to permit an inspec- 
 tion of the convict barge. 
 
 " What do they want to go on board the barge for ? " he 
 inquired rather curtly of Colonel Yagodkin. " There is 
 nothing to see there, and besides it is inconvenient ; the 
 women are now cleaning it." 
 
 Colonel Yagodkin, however, knew that I was particularly 
 anxious to see^in what condition the floating prison was 
 when the convicts left it, and, a few moments later, he in- 
 troduced us to the convoy officer, and again suggested 
 a visit to the barge. This time he was successful. The 
 convoy officer evidently did not see any reason why Col- 
 onel Yagodkin should not go on board the barge with his 
 friends if he wished to do so, and he at once cheerfully
 
 THE PEOVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 297 
 
 offered to accompany us. The barge was, apparently, the 
 same one that I had inspected in Tinmen two months 
 before. Then it was scrupulously clean, and the air in its 
 cabins was fresh and pure ; but now it suggested a recently 
 vacated wild-beast cage in a menagerie. It was no more 
 dirty, perhaps, than might have been expected; but its 
 atmosphere was heavy with a strong animal odor ; its floors 
 were covered with dried mud, into which had been trodden 
 refuse scraps of food ; its ndr% or sleeping-benches, were 
 black and greasy, and strewn with bits of dirty paper ; and 
 in the gray light of a cloudy day its dark kdmeras, with 
 their^ small grated port-holes, muddy floors, and polluted 
 ammoniacal atmosphere, chilled and depressed me with 
 suggestions of human misery. 
 
 The Eev. Henry Lansdell, in a magazine article published 
 two or three years ago,' says, "I have seen some strong 
 statements, alleging the extreme unhealthiness of these 
 barges, . . . and I do not suppose that they are as healthy 
 as a first-class sanatorium." 
 
 If Mr. Lansdell made a careful examination of a convict 
 barge immediately after the departure from it of a convict 
 party, the idea of a " sanatorium " certainly could not have 
 been suggested to him by anything that he saw, touched, 
 or smelled. It suggested to me nothing so much as a re- 
 cently vacated den in a zoological garden. It was, as I 
 have said, no more dirty and foul than might have been ex- 
 pected after ten days of such tenancy ; but it could have 
 been connected in one's mind with a " sanatorium " only 
 by a violent wrench of the imagination. As a proof, how- 
 ever, that a convict barge in point of healthfulness does 
 not fall far short of " a first-class sanatorium," Mr. Lans- 
 dell quotes a statement made to him by " an officer who 
 had charge of the prisoners between Tinmen and Tomsk," 
 to the effect that " during the season of 1882, 8 barges car- 
 
 1 " Russian Convicts in the Salt Mines of Iletsk " ; Harper's Magazine, May, 
 1888, pp. 894-910.
 
 2!)S SIBEKIA 
 
 riiHl 6000 prisoners a voyage of neai'ly 2000 miles, and 
 yet only two [and one of them a child] died on the 
 passai2:e, while only 20 were delivered invalided at 
 Tomsk." 
 
 Inasmuch as I once took the same view of the exile sys- 
 tem that Mr. Lansdell now takes, and have been forced to 
 confess myself in error, it may be proper for me to say, 
 without reflecting in any w^ay upon Mr. Lansdell's conscien- 
 tiousness and sincerity, that the statement which he quotes 
 has not the slightest foundation in fact, and was probably 
 made to him by the convoy officer with a deliberate inten- 
 tion to deceive. According to the official report of the in- 
 spector of exile transportation for 1882, — the year to which 
 Mr. Lansdell's information relates,— the number of prison- 
 ers carried on convict barges was not 6000, but 10,245. Of 
 this number 279 were taken sick on the barges, 22 died, 
 and 80 were left dangerously sick at river ports, or were 
 delivered in that condition at Tomsk.^ These, it must be 
 remembered, were the cases of sickness and the deaths that 
 occurred in a voyage which averages only ten days in dura- 
 tion. If, in a population of 10,245 souls, 279 persons were 
 taken sick and 22 died every 10 days, we should have an 
 annual sick-rate of nearly 99 per cent., and an annual death- 
 rate of nearly 8 per cent. It would not, I think, be a very 
 popular " sanatorium " in which 99 per cent, of all the per- 
 sons who entered it comparatively well became seriously 
 sick in the course of the year, and eight per cent, of the 
 whole number died. But sickness on the convict barges 
 has been far more prevalent than this — and within recent 
 years. In 1879, 724 prisoners were taken sick between Tin- 
 men and Tomsk, and 51 died; and in 1871, 1140 were taken 
 sick out of a whole number of 9416 carried, and 111 died. 
 Such a rate of mortality as that shown by the death of 111 
 persons out of 9416 in 10 days would entirely depopulate 
 
 1 Annual Report of the Inspector of Exile Transportation for Western Siberia, 
 p. 12 of the manuscript.
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 
 
 299 
 
 in a single year, not only " a first-class sanatorium," but a 
 village of 4000 inhabitants. 
 
 In a foot-note below will be found a tabulated state- 
 ment of the cases of sickness and death which occurred on 
 the convict barges between Tinmen and Tomsk in the 
 fifteen years beginning with 1870 and ending with 1884. 
 I copied the figures myself from the manuscripts of the 
 official reports, and so far as transcription is concerned, I 
 will guarantee their accuracy.' 
 
 It will be seen that during this period there has been, on 
 the whole, a steady improvement in the hygienic condition 
 of the barges, and a corresponding decrease in the sick- and 
 death-rates. The mortality now is chiefly among children, 
 
 1 Sickness and Mortality on Convict Barges Between Tium^n and 
 Tomsk — Ten Days. 
 
 Number Carried. ' taken Sick. 
 
 1870 
 
 1871 
 
 1872 
 
 7444 
 8202 
 7246 
 
 1873 
 
 7923 
 
 1874 
 
 8068 
 
 1875 
 
 7771 
 
 1876 
 
 8878 
 
 1877 
 
 1878. . .. 
 
 9065 
 8749 
 
 1879 
 
 8977 
 
 1880 
 
 1881 
 
 8844 
 9011 
 
 1882 ■. 
 
 1H83 
 
 8832 
 9506 
 
 1884 
 
 9004 
 
 
 
 1492 No information. 
 
 Grand Totals. 
 
 1214 
 1098 
 1090 
 1269 
 1301 
 1455 
 1499 
 1688 
 1342 
 1425 
 1452 
 1413 
 1543 
 1688 
 
 1140 
 486 
 673 
 574 
 579 
 
 492 
 300 
 193 
 570 
 391 
 197 
 202 
 150 
 103 
 
 121 
 133 
 151 
 154 
 138 
 22 
 77 
 107 
 113 
 
 111 
 30 
 23 
 21 
 
 16 
 
 DELmCKED SICK. 
 
 Noinfoiinatiou. 
 ... 301 
 
 ... 70 
 
 . . 190 
 
 . . 196 
 
 115 
 
 119 
 143 
 216 
 182 
 85 
 71 
 62 
 66 
 67 
 
 20969 2598 3452 1016 
 
 25 286 258 1011 872 299 
 
 It must be borne in mind that these 
 figures show only a small part of the 
 sickness and mortality in convict par- 
 ties from points of departure to points 
 of destination. Before reaching Tin- 
 man the convicts travel by barge from 
 Nizhni Novgorod to Perm, a distance 
 
 of nearly 1000 miles, and after leaving 
 Tomsk many of them walk nearly 2000 
 miles into Eastern Siberia. In a sub- 
 sequent paper I shall give statistics of 
 sickness and mortality for the whole 
 journey from Moscow to Irkutsk.
 
 300 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 who, of t'ourse, are less able than adults to endure the 
 hardshijis, the privations, and exposures of barge life. I 
 am glad to be able to say that, in my judgment, the inspec- 
 tor of exile transportation and the local Sil)erian author- 
 
 ities are now doing all that lies in their power to do for 
 the comfort and health of exiles on the voyage between 
 Tinmen and Tomsk. The barges are thoroughly cleaned 
 and fumigated after every trip, and the prisoners are as 
 well fed and cared for as they can be with the limited sum
 
 THE PROVINCE AND THE CITY OF TOMSK 301 
 
 of money that the Government appropriates for the pur- 
 pose. The suffering and disease which still exist are attrib- 
 utable mainly to overcrowding, and overcrowding the 
 Siberian officials cannot prevent. Ten or twelve thousand 
 exiles are turned over to them every summer, and they must 
 send them eastward as best they can while the season of 
 navigation lasts. They have only three barges, and eighteen 
 round trips are all that can be made during the time that 
 the river remains open. They are therefore compelled to 
 send from 600 to 800 exiles in a single barge at every trip, 
 and this inevitably results in a great deal of sickness and 
 suffering.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 
 
 AMONG- the questions most frequently asked me since 
 my return from Russia are, " How did you manage to 
 gain admittance to Siberian prisons and etapes, to make 
 the acquaintance everywhere of banished political offenders, 
 and to get access to so many official documents and re- 
 ports? Did not the local authorities know what you were 
 doing, and, if so, why did they not put a stop to your 
 investigations, or at least throw more obstacles in your 
 way!" 
 
 I cannot give perfectly satisfactory answers to these 
 questions, because I do not know what instructions were 
 given to the local authorities concerning us, nor what view 
 was taken of our movements by the Siberian police. I can, 
 however, indicate the policy that we pursued, and the 
 measures that we adopted to avert suspicion when it be- 
 came necessary to do so, and can suggest some of the 
 reasons for the generally non-aggressive attitude taken 
 towards us by the Siberian officials. 
 
 In the first place, it seems to me probable that when I 
 called upon the high authorities in St. Petersburg and 
 asked permission to go to Siberia to inspect prisons and 
 study the exile system, the officials reasoned somewhat in 
 this way : " It is neither practicable nor politic to exclude 
 foreigners from Siberia altogether. Americans and West 
 Europeans will not be satisfied until they have investigated 
 this exile question ; and if we deny them opportunities for
 
 THE TOMSK FOKWAKDING PRISON 303 
 
 such investigation, they will say that we are afraid to have 
 the condition of our prisons known. Mr. Kennan is a 
 friendly observer ; he has defended us and the exile system 
 in an address before the American Geographical Society; 
 he has publicly taken our side as against the nihilists ; and 
 his main object in going to Siberia seems to be to get facts 
 with which to fortify his position as our champion. Under 
 such circumstances he is not likely to take a very pessi- 
 mistic view of things, and if somebody must go to Siberia 
 and look through our prisons, he is the very man to do it.' 
 Mr. Lansdell gave, on the whole, a favorable account of the 
 working of our penal institutions, and there is every reason 
 to suppose that Mr. Kennan, who is already friendly to us, 
 will follow his example. The reports of these two gentle- 
 men will satisfy the curiosity of the western world, and 
 thus prevent further research; while, at the same time, 
 they will furnish us with a means of silencing foreign critics 
 and accusers. If an English clergyman and an American 
 journalist declare, after personal investigation on the ground, 
 that there is nothing particularly terrible about the exile 
 system, the world will probably accept the judgment. We 
 will, therefore, allow Messrs. Kennan and Frost to go to 
 Siberia, and will give them letters of recommendation ; but 
 we will make them apply to the local authorities, in all 
 cases, for permission to inspect prisons, and then, if neces- 
 sary or expedient, we can direct secretly that such per- 
 mission be denied. There is, of course, some danger that 
 
 1 Mr. Vlangdlli, the Assistant Minis- tional narrative; that in my opinion 
 ter of Foreign Affairs, had already seen the exile system had been painted in 
 a copy of my address before the Ameri- too dark colors ; and that a fair state- 
 can Geographical Society upon "Siberia meut of the real facts would, I thought, 
 and the Exile System"; and the con- interest the whole civilized world, and, 
 elusions which I here attribute to him at the same time, be of service to the 
 might have been drawn, fairly enough. Government. In this, as I have befoi'e 
 from the frank and honest statements said, there was not the least insincerity 
 that I made to him. I did not promise or diplomacy. My statements were 
 that I would defend the Russian Gov- strictly and exactly in accordance with 
 ernment, but I did assure him that I my opinions, 
 had no intention of writing a sensa-
 
 304 SIBERIA 
 
 they will meet political exiles, but they seem already to be 
 strongly prejndieod against such offenders, and we will 
 prejudice tlicni still further by giving them a letter of 
 introduction to Mr. Katkoff, and by instructing the latter 
 to see that they are furnished in advance with proper 
 information. If their relations with political criminals in 
 Siberia become, nevertheless, too close and intimate, we can 
 at any time direct that they be warned, or, if necessary, 
 that they be |)ut under surveillance." 
 
 My belief that this was the reasoning of the high officials 
 in St. Petersburg is based mainly, of course, upon conjec- 
 ture; but it is supported collaterally by the whole of our 
 Siberian experience. It was everywhere apparent that the 
 question of admitting us to prisons or excluding us there- 
 from had been left to the discretion of the Siberian author- 
 ities; and that the latter, in their dealings with us, were 
 guided mainly by circumstances and by personal views and 
 impressions. It was in the highest degree important, there- 
 fore, that we should so conduct ourselves as to gain the 
 confidence and good- will of these officers, and that we should 
 prosecute our researches in the field of political exile in such 
 a manner as not to excite comment or give occasion for re- 
 port. Nine-tenths of the towns and villages through which 
 we passed were in communication with St. Petersburg by 
 telegraph. If the police should discover that we were sys- 
 tematically visiting the political exiles and taking letters of 
 introduction from one colony to another, they might send 
 a telegram any day to the Minister of the Interior, saying, 
 "Kennan and Frost are establishing intimate relations 
 everywhere with administrative exiles and state criminals. 
 Was it the intention of the Grovernment that this should be 
 permitted ? " I did not know what answer would be made 
 to such a telegram; but there certainly was a strong prob- 
 ability that it would at least result in an official " warning," 
 or in a stricter supervision of our movements, and thus ren- 
 der the accomplishment of our purposes extremely diffi-
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 305 
 
 cult. Our letters of recommendation might protect us from 
 unauthorized interference at the hands of the local author- 
 ities; but they could not save us from an arrest or a search 
 ordered by telegraph from St. Petersburg. That telegraph 
 line, therefore, for nearly a year hung over our heads like 
 an electric sword of Damocles, threatening every moment 
 to fall and cut short our career of investigation. 
 
 Up to the time of our arrival at Ust Kamenogorsk we 
 had had no trouble with the police, and our intercourse with 
 the political exiles had been virtually unrestricted. As we 
 began, however, to accumulate letters and documents that 
 would be compromising to the writers and givers if discov- 
 ered, we deemed it prudent to mask our political investiga- 
 tions, as far as practicable, under a semblance of interest in 
 other things, and, at the same time, to cultivate the most 
 friendly possible relations with the local authorities. It 
 seemed to me that to avoid the police, as if we were afraid 
 of them or had something to conceal from them, would be 
 a fatal error. Safety lay rather in a policy of extreme bold- 
 ness, and I determined to call at the earliest moment upon 
 the isjwdvnik, or chief of police, in every village, and over- 
 whelm him with information concerning our plans, purposes, 
 and previous history, before he had time to form any con- 
 jectures or suspicions wdth regard to us, and, if possible, 
 before he had even heard of our arrival. After we began 
 to make the acquaintance of the political exiles we had no 
 difficulty in getting from them all necessary information 
 with regard to the history, temperament, and personal char- 
 acteristics of an official upon whom we purposed to call, and 
 we therefore had every possible advantage of the latter in 
 any contest of wits. He knew nothing about us, and had 
 to feel his way to an acquaintance with us experimentally; 
 while we knew all about him, and could, by virtue of our 
 knowledge, adapt ourselves to his idiosyncrasies, humor his 
 tastes, avoid dangerous topics, lead up to subjects upon 
 which we were sure to be in enthusiastic agreement, and 
 20
 
 306 SIBERIA 
 
 thus convince him that we were not only good fellows, but 
 men of rare sagacity and judgment — as of course we were ! 
 We made it a rule to call in evening dress upon every offi- 
 cial, as a means of showing him our respectful appreciation 
 of his rank and position; we drank vodlai and bitter cordial 
 with him — if necessary, up to the limit of double vision; 
 we made ourselves agreeable to his wife, and Mr. Frost 
 drew portraits of his children; and, in nine cases out of 
 ten, we thus succeeded in making ourselves " solid with the 
 administration " before we had been in a town or village 
 forty-eight hours. 
 
 The next steps in our plan of campaign were, first, to 
 forestall suspicion in the minds of the subordinate police, 
 by showing ourselves publicly as often as possible in the 
 company of their superiors; and, secondly, to supply the 
 people of the village with a plausible explanation of our 
 presence there by making visits to schools, by ostentatiously 
 taking notes in sight of the scholars, and by getting the 
 teachers to prepare for us statistics of popular education. 
 This part of the work generally fell to me, while Mr. Frost 
 attracted public attention by sketching in the streets, by col- 
 lecting flowers and butterflies, or by lecturing to station-mas- 
 ters and peasants upon geography, cosmography, and the 
 phenomena of the heavens. This last-mentioned occupa- 
 tion afforded him great amusement, and proved at the same 
 time to be extremely useful as a means of giving a safe 
 direction to popular speculations concerning us. Jointly 
 I think we produced upon the public mind the impres- 
 sion that we had come to Siberia with what is known in 
 Russia as an uchonni tsel [a scientific aim], and that we 
 were chiefly interested in popular education, art, botany, 
 geography, and archsBology. After we had thus forestalled 
 suspicion by calling promptly upon the police, and by fur- 
 nishing the common people with a ready-made theory to 
 explain our presence and our movements, we could go 
 where we liked without exciting much remark, and we
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 307 
 
 devoted four or five hours every night to the political ex- 
 iles. Now and then some peasant would perhaps see us 
 going to an exile's house; but as many of the politicals 
 were known to be scientific men, and as we were travelling 
 with a " scientific aim," no particular significance was at- 
 tached to the circumstance. Everybody knew that we spent 
 a large part of our time in visiting schools, collecting flow- 
 ers, sketching, taking photographs, and hobnobbing with 
 the local authorities ; and the idea that we were particularly 
 interested in the political exiles rarely occurred, I think, to 
 any one. As we went eastward into a part of Siberia where 
 the politicals are more closely watched, we varied our policy 
 somewhat to accord with circumstances ; but the rules that 
 we everywhere observed were to act with confidence and 
 boldness, to make ourselves socially agreeable to the local 
 authorities, to attract as much attention as possible to the 
 side of our life that would bear close inspection, and to 
 keep the other side in the shade. We could not, of course, 
 conceal wholly from the police our relations with the political 
 exiles ; but the extent and real significance of such relations 
 were never, I think, suspected. At any rate, the telegraphic 
 sword of Damocles did not fall upon us, and until we reached 
 the Trans-Baikal we did not even receive a " warning." 
 
 Our work in all parts of Siberia was greatly facilitated 
 by the attitude of honest and intelligent officials towards 
 the system that we were investigating. Almost without 
 exception they were either hostile to it altogether, or op- 
 posed to it in its present form ; and they often seemed glad 
 of an opportunity to point out to a foreign observer the 
 evils of exile as a method of punishment, and the frauds, 
 abuses, and cruelties to which, in practice, it gives rise. 
 This was something that I had neither foreseen nor counted 
 upon ; and more than once I was surprised and startled by 
 the boldness and frankness of such officials, after they had 
 become satisfied that they could safely talk to me without 
 reserve.
 
 308 SIBEKIA 
 
 " I get my living by the exile system," said a high officer 
 of the prison department to me one day, " and I have no 
 fault to iind with my position or my pay; but I would 
 gladly resign both to-morrow if I could see the system 
 abolished. It is disastrous to Siberia, it is ruinous to the 
 criminal, and it causes an immense amount of misery ; but 
 what can be done ? If we say anything to our superiors in 
 St. Petersbui-g, they strike us in the face ; and they strike 
 \invd — it hurts! I have learned to do the best I can and 
 to hold my tongue." 
 
 *'I have reported upon the abuses and miseries in my 
 department," said another officer, "until I am tired; and I 
 have accomplished little or nothing. Perhaps if you de- 
 scribe them, something will be done. The prison here is 
 unfit for human habitation, — it is n't fit for a dog, — and I 
 have been trying for years to get a new one ; but my efforts 
 have resulted in nothing but an interminable correspon- 
 dence." 
 
 Statements similar to these were made to me by at least 
 a score of officers who held positions of trust in the civil 
 or military service of the state, and many of them furnished 
 me with abundant proof of their assertions in the shape of 
 statistics and documentary evidence. 
 
 In Tomsk the condition of the prisons and the evils of 
 the exile system were so well known to everybody, and had 
 been so often commented upon in the local newspapers, that 
 the higher officials did not think it worth while apparently 
 to try to conceal anything from us. The governor of the 
 province, Mr. Krasofski, happened at that time to be absent 
 from the city, but his place was being filled by State Coun- 
 cilor Nathaniel Petukhof, the presiding officer of the pro- 
 vincial administration, who was described to us as a man 
 of intelligence, education, and some liberality. As soon as 
 I conveniently could, I called upon Mr, Petukhof, and was 
 received by him with great cordiality. He had read, as I 
 soon learned, my book upon northeastern Siberia; and
 
 THE TOMSK FORWAKDING PRISON 309 
 
 since it had made a favorable impression upon him, he was 
 predisposed to treat me with consideration and with more 
 than ordinary courtesy. I, in turn, had heard favorable 
 reports with regard to his character ; and under such cir- 
 cumstances we naturally drifted into a frank and pleasant 
 talk about Siberia and Siberian affairs. At the end of half 
 an hour's conversation he asked me if there was any way 
 in which he could be of assistance to me. I replied that I 
 should like very much to have permission to visit the exile 
 forwarding prison. I fancied that his face showed, for an 
 instant, a trace of embarrassment; but as I proceeded to 
 describe my visits to prisons in two other provinces, he 
 seemed to come to a decision, and, without asking me any 
 questions as to my motives, said, " Yes, I will give you 
 permission ; and, if you like, I will go with you." Then, 
 after a moment's hesitation, he determined, apparently, to 
 be frank with me, and added gi'avely, "I think you will find 
 it the worst prison in Siberia." I expressed a hope that 
 such would not be the case, and said that it could hardly be 
 worse than the forwarding prison in Tinmen. He shrugged 
 his shoulders slightly, as if to say, "You don't know yet 
 what a Siberian prison may be," and asked me what could 
 be expected when buildings were crowded with more than 
 twice the number of persons for which they were intended. 
 a rpj^g Tomsk forwarding prison," he continued, " was de- 
 signed to hold 1400 prisoners.^ It now contains more than 
 3000, and the convict barges, as they arrive from Tinmen, 
 increase the number by from 500 to 800 every week, while 
 we are able to forward eastward only 400 a week. The 
 situation is, therefore, becoming worse and worse as the 
 summer advances. The prison kdmeras are terribly over- 
 
 1 According to the report of the in- estimate, did not perhaps allow for 
 
 spector of exile transportation for 1885, such close packing as this. In private 
 
 this prison would accommodate 1900 houses in Russia the amount of air 
 
 prisoners, with an allowance of eight- space regarded as essential for one 
 
 tenths of a cubic fathom of air space grown person is a little more than five 
 
 per capita. (Page 27 of the manu- cubic fathoms {Itusskaya Misl, May 
 
 script report.) Mr. Petukhof, in his 1891 -, p. 61).
 
 310 SIBERIA 
 
 erowdod ; it is impossible to keep tliern clean ; the vitiation 
 of tho air in them causes a great amount of disease, and the 
 prison hospital is already full to overflowing with the dan- 
 gerouslj' sick." 
 
 " But," I said, " why do you not forward exiles eastward 
 more rapidly and thus relieve the congestion in this prison? 
 Why can you not increase the size of your marching parties, 
 or send forward two parties a week instead of one ! " 
 
 " It is impracticable," replied the acting governor. " The 
 exile administration of Eastern Siberia says that it cannot 
 receive and distribute prisoners faster than it does now. 
 Its etapes are too small to accommodate larger parties, and 
 the convoying force of soldiers is not adequate to take care 
 of two parties a week. We tried one year the plan that you 
 suggest, but it did not work well." 
 
 " Does the Government at St. Petersburg know," I in- 
 quired, " of this state of affairs ? " 
 
 "Certainly," he replied. "It has been reported upon 
 every year, and, besides writing, I have sent four urgent 
 telegrams this summer asking if something cannot be done 
 to relieve this prison." 
 
 " And has nothing been done ? " 
 
 " Nothing whatever. The number of prisoners here will 
 continue to increase steadily up to the close of river navi- 
 gation, when the convict barges will stop running, and then 
 we shall gradually clear out the prison during the winter 
 months. In the mean time typhus fever will prevail there 
 constantly, and great numbers of sick will lie uncared for 
 in their cells because there is no room for them in the hos- 
 pitals. If you visit the prison, my advice to you is to 
 breakfast heartily before starting, and to keep out of the 
 hospital wards." 
 
 I thanked him for his caution, said that I was not afraid 
 of contagion, and asked when it would be convenient for 
 him to go with me to the prison. A day was agreed upon, 
 and I took my leave.
 
 THE TOMSK FORWAKDING PRISON 311 
 
 On Wednesday, August 26, — the day appointed, — Mr. 
 Petukliof sent word to me that unforeseen circumstances 
 would prevent him from going to the prison with us, but 
 that we need not postpone our visit on his account. An 
 inspecting party therefore was made up of Colonel Yagodkin, 
 Mr. Pepelaief (the chief of the local exile bureau), and the 
 convoy officer of the barge, Mr. Frost, and myself. It was 
 one of the cold, gray, gloomy days that often come to West- 
 ern Siberia in the late summer, when the sky is a canopy of 
 motionless leaden clouds, and the wind blows sharply down 
 across the tundras from the arctic ocean. The air was raw, 
 with a suggestion of dampness, and an overcoat was not 
 uncomfortable as we rode out to the eastern end of the city. 
 
 The first glimpse that we caught of the Tomsk forward- 
 ing prison showed us that it differed widely in type from 
 all the Siberian prisons we had previously seen. Instead 
 of the huge white, three-story, stuccoed building, with nar- 
 row arched windows and red tin roof, that we had expected 
 to find, we saw before us something that looked like the per- 
 manent fortified camp of a regiment of soldiers, or like a 
 small prairie village on the frontier, surrounded by a high 
 stockade of sharpened logs to protect it from hostile Indians. 
 With the exception of the zigzag-barred sentry-boxes at 
 the corners, and the soldiers, who with shouldered rifles 
 paced slowly back and forth along its sides, there was 
 hardly a suggestion of a prison about it. It was simply a 
 stockaded inclosure about three acres in extent, situated on 
 an open prairie beyond the city limits, with a pyi'amidal 
 church-tower and the board roofs of fifteen or twenty log- 
 buildings showing above the serrated edge of the palisade. 
 If we had had any doubts, however, with regard to the nature 
 of the place, the familiar jingling of chains, which came to 
 our ears as we stopped in front of the wooden gate, would 
 have set such doubts at rest. 
 
 In response to a summons sent by Mr. Pepelaief through 
 the officer of the day, the warden of the prison, a short,
 
 312 SIBERIA 
 
 stout, ehiibby-faeed young officer, named Ivanenko, soon 
 made his appearance, and we were admitted to the prison 
 yard. Within the spacious inclosure stood twelve or fifteen 
 one-story log buildings, grouped without much apparent 
 regularity about a square log church. At the doors of most 
 of these buildings stood armed sentries, and in the unpaved 
 streets or open spaces between them were walking or sit- 
 ting on the bare ground hundreds of convicts and penal 
 colonists, who, in chains and leg-fetters, were taking their 
 daily outing. The log buildings with their grated windows, 
 the high stockade which suiTounded them, the armed sen- 
 tries here and there, and the throngs of convicts who in 
 long, gray, semi-military overcoats roamed aimlessly about 
 the yard, would doubtless have reminded many a Union sol- 
 dier of the famous prison pen at Andersonville. The prison 
 buildings proper were long, one-story, barrack-like houses 
 of squared logs, with board roofs, heavily grated windows, 
 and massive wooden doors secured by iron padlocks. Each 
 separate building constituted a kazdrm, or prison ward, and 
 each ward was divided into two large kdmeras, or cells, by a 
 short hall running transversely through the middle. There 
 were eight of these kazdrms^ or log prisons, and each of them 
 was designed to accommodate 190 men, with an allowance 
 of eight-tenths of a cubic fathom of air space per capita.^ 
 They were all substantially alike, and seemed to me to be 
 about 75 feet long by 40 feet wide, with a height of 12 feet 
 between floors and ceilings. The first kdmera that we ex- 
 amined was perhaps 40 feet square, and contained about 
 150 prisoners. It was fairly well lighted, but its atmo- 
 sphere was polluted to the last degree by over-respiration, 
 and its temperature, raised by the natural heat of the pris- 
 
 1 The report of the inspector of exile was originally intended to hold 1400 
 transportation for 1884 says that the prisoners, while the inspector of exile 
 Tomsk prison contains ten of these i'«2:- transportation reported in 1884 that 
 arms. The warden told me that there its normal capacity was 1900. It con- 
 were only eight. Accounts also differ tained, at the time of our visit, about 
 as to the normal capacity of the prison. 3500. 
 Acting-Governor Petukhof said that it
 
 THE TOMSK FORWAKDING PRISON 
 
 313
 
 1514 SIBEKIA 
 
 oners' bodies, was fifteen or twenty degrees above that of 
 the air outside. Two double rows of sleeping-benches ran 
 across the Jcdnicra, but there evidently was not room enough 
 on them for half the inmates of the neW, and the remainder 
 were forced to sleep under them, or on the floor in the 
 gangways between them, without pillows, blankets, or bed- 
 clothing of any kind. The floor had been washed in antici- 
 pation of our visit, but the warden said that in rainy weather 
 it was always covered with mud and filth brought in from 
 the yard by the feet of the prisoners, and that in this mud 
 and filth scores of men had to lie down at night to sleep. 
 Many of the convicts, thinking that we were officers or 
 inspectors from St. Petersburg, violated the first rule of 
 prison discipline, despite the presence of the warden, by 
 complaining to us of the heat, foulness, and oppressiveness 
 of the prison air, and the terrible overcrowding, which made 
 it difficult to move about the kdmera in the daytime, and 
 almost impossible to get any rest at night. I pitied the 
 poor wretches, but could only tell them that we were not 
 officials, and had no power to do anything for them. 
 
 For nearly an hour we went from kazdrm to kazdrm and 
 from cell to cell, finding everywhere the same overcrowding, 
 the same inconceivably foul air, the same sickening odors, 
 and the same throngs of gray-coated convicts. At last Mr. 
 Pepelaief, who seemed disposed to hurry us through the 
 prison, said that there was nothing more to see except the 
 kitchen and the hospital, and that he presumed we would 
 not care to inspect the hospital wards, inasmuch as they 
 contained seventy or eighty patients sick with malignant 
 typhus fever. The young convoy officer of the barge, who 
 seconded all of Colonel Yagodkin's efforts to make us thor- 
 oughly acquainted with the prison, asked the warden if he 
 was not going to show us the " family kdmeras " and the 
 " halagdnsP 
 
 " Certainly," said the warden ; " I will show them any- 
 thing that they wish to see."
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 315 
 
 I had not before heard of the balagdns, and Mr. Pepelaief , 
 who had to some extent taken upon himself the guidance 
 of the party, seemed as anxious to prevent us from seeing 
 them as he had been to prevent us from seeing the convict 
 barge. 
 
 The balagdns we found to be long, low sheds, hastily built 
 of rough pine boards, and inclosed with sides of thin, white 
 cotton-sheeting. They were three in number, and were 
 occupied exclusively by family parties, women, and chil- 
 dren. The first one to which we came was surrounded by 
 a foul ditch half full of filth, into which water or mine was 
 dripping here and there from the floor under the cotton- 
 sheeting wall. The halagdn had no windows, and all the 
 light that it' received came through the thin cloth which 
 formed the sides. 
 
 A scene of more pitiable human misery than that which 
 was presented to us as we entered the low, wretched shed 
 can hardly be imagined. It was literally packed with hun- 
 dreds of weary-eyed men, haggard women, and wailing 
 children, sitting or lying in all conceivable attitudes upon 
 two long lines of rough plank sleeping-benches, which ran 
 through it from end to end, leaving gangways about four 
 feet in width in the middle and at the sides. I could see 
 the sky through cracks in the roof ; the floor of unmatched 
 boards had given way here and there, and the inmates had 
 used the holes as places into which to throw refuse and 
 pour slops and excrement ; the air was insuif erably fetid on 
 account of the presence of a great number of infants and 
 the impossibility of giving them proper physical care ; wet 
 underclothing, which had been washed in camp-kettles, was 
 hanging from all the cross-beams ; the gangways were 
 obstructed by piles of gray bags, bundles, bedding, and 
 domestic utensils ; and in this chaos of disorder and misery 
 hundreds of human beings, packed together so closely that 
 they could not move without touching one another, were 
 trying to exist, and to perform the necessary duties of
 
 ;U() SIBERIA 
 
 everyday life. It was enough to make one sick at heart to 
 see, subjected to such troatment and undergoing such suf- 
 fering, hundreds of women and children who had committed 
 no crime, but had merely shown their love and devotion by 
 going into Siberian exile with the husbands, the fathers, or 
 the brothers who were dear to them. 
 
 As we walked through the narrow gangways from one 
 end of the shed to the other, we were besieged by unhappy 
 men and women who desired to make complaints or 
 petitions. 
 
 " Your High Nobility," said a heavy-eyed, anxious-look- 
 ing man to the warden, " it is impossible to sleep here nights 
 on account of tlie cold, the crowding, and the crying of 
 babies. Can't something be done?" 
 
 " No, brother," replied the warden kindly ; " I can't do 
 anything. You will go on the road pretty soon, and then 
 it will be easiei'." 
 
 " Dai Bogh ! " [God grant it !] said the heavy-eyed man 
 as he turned with a mournful look to his wife and a little 
 girl who sat near him on the sleeping-bench. 
 
 "Batiushka!" [My little father ! My benefactor!] cried a 
 pale-faced woman with an infant at her naked breast; 
 " won't you, for God's sake, let me sleep in the bath-house 
 with my baby ? It 's so cold here nights ; I can't keep 
 him warm." 
 
 "No, matushka" [my little mother], said the warden; 
 " I can't let you sleep in the bath-house. It is better for 
 you here." 
 
 Several other women made in succession the same request, 
 and were refused in the same way ; and I finally asked the 
 warden, who seemed to be a kind-hearted and sympathetic 
 man, why he could not let a dozen or two of these unfor- 
 tunate women, who had young babies, go to the bath-house 
 to sleep. " It is cold here now," I said, " and it must be 
 much worse at night. These thin walls of cotton-sheeting 
 don't keep out at all the raw night air."
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 317 
 
 " It is impossible," replied the warden. " The atmosphere 
 of the bath-house is too hot, close, and damp. I tried letting 
 some of the nursing women sleep there, but one or two of 
 their babies died every night, and I had to stop it." 
 
 I appreciated the hopelessness of the situation, and had 
 nothing more to say. As we emerged from the balagdn, we 
 came upon Mr. Pepelaief engaged in earnest conversation 
 with one of the exiles, a good-looking, blond-bearded man 
 about thirty-five years of age, upon whose face there was 
 an expression of agitation and excitement, mingled with a 
 sort of defiant despair. 
 
 " I have had only one shirt in months," the exile said in 
 a trembling voice, "and it is dirty, ragged, and full of 
 vermin." 
 
 " Well ! " said Mr. Pepelaief with contemptuous indiffer- 
 ence, " you '11 get another when you go on the road." 
 
 "But when will I go on the road?" replied the exile 
 with increasing excitement. "It may be three months 
 hence." 
 
 " Very likely," said Mr. Pepelaief coldly, but with rising 
 temper, as he saw us listening to the colloquy. 
 
 " Then do you expect a man to wear one shirt until it 
 drops off from him!" inquired the exile with desperate 
 indignation. 
 
 " Silence ! " roared Mr. Pepelaief, losing all control of 
 himself. " How dare you talk to me in that way 1 I '11 take 
 the skin off from you ! You '11 get another shirt when you 
 go on the road, and not before. Away ! " 
 
 The exile's face flushed, and the lump in his throat rose 
 and fell as he struggled to choke down his emotion. At last 
 he succeeded, and, turning away silently, entered the 
 halagdn. 
 
 " How long will the women and children have to stay in 
 these sheds ? " I asked the warden. 
 
 " Until the 2d of October," he replied. 
 
 " And where will you put them then ? "
 
 318 SIBERIA 
 
 Ho s]iriiu:ii,vd his shoulders, but said nothing. ' 
 From the balagdtis we went to a "family kdmera^^ in one 
 of the log kamnns. Here there was the same scene of dis- 
 order and wretchedness that we had witnessed in the hala- 
 (f(i)i.<!, with the exception that the walls were of logs, and the 
 air, although foul, was warm. Men, women, and children 
 were sitting on the ndrl, lying under them, standing in 
 throngs in the gangways, and occupying in one way or 
 another every available square foot of space in the kdmera. 
 I had seen enough of this sort of misery, and asked the 
 warden to take us to the hospital, a two-story log building 
 situated near the church. We were met at the door by Dr. 
 Orzheshko, the prison surgeon, who was a large, heavily 
 built man, with a strong, good face, and who was by birth 
 a Pole. 
 
 The hospital did not differ materially from that in the 
 prison at Tinmen, except that it occupied a building by 
 itself, and seemed to be in better order. It was intended 
 originally to hold 50 beds; but on account of the over- 
 crowding of the prison it had been found necessary to 
 increase the number of beds to 150, and still nearly 50 sick 
 patients were unprovided for and had to lie on benches or 
 on the floor. The number of sick in the hospital at the 
 time of our visit was 193, including 71 cases of typhus 
 fever. The wards, although unduly crowded, were clean 
 and neat, the bed-clothing was plentiful and fresh, and the 
 atmosphere did not seem to me so terribly heavy and pol- 
 luted as that of the hospital in Tinmen. The blackboards 
 at the heads of the narrow cots showed that the prevalent 
 diseases among the prisoners were typhus fever, scurvy, 
 dysentery, rheumatism, anaemia, and bronchitis. Many of 
 
 1 1 learued upon my return trip that prison of the convict companies [ar- 
 late in October 200 women and children restdntski roti]. These measures were 
 were transferred to an empty house, rendered imperative by the alarming 
 hired for the purpose in the city of prevalence of disease — particularly 
 Tomsk, and that 1000 or 1500 other typhus fever — in the forwarding pri- 
 exiles were taken from the forwarding son as a result 6f the terrible over- 
 prison to the city prison and to the crowding.
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 319 
 
 the nurses, I noticed, were women from 25 to 35 years of 
 age, who had strong, intelligent faces, belonged apparently 
 to one of the upper classes, and were probably medical 
 students. 
 
 Early in the afternoon, after having made as careful an 
 examination of the whole prison as circumstances would 
 permit, we thanked the warden, Mr. Ivauenko, for his 
 courteous attention, and for his evident disposition to deal 
 with us frankly and honestly, and drove back to our hotel. 
 It was long that night before I could get to sleep, and when 
 I finally succeeded it was only to dream of crowded balar/dns, 
 of dead babies in bath-houses, and of the ghastly faces that, 
 I had seen in the hospital of the Tomsk forwarding prison. 
 
 Inasmuch as we did not see this prison at its worst, and 
 inasmuch as I wish to give the reader a vivid realization, if 
 possible, of the a^Yful amount of human agony that the 
 exile system causes, it seems to me absolutely necessary 
 to say something, in closing, with regard to the condition 
 of the Tomsk forwarding prison two months after we made 
 to it the visit that I have tried to describe. 
 
 On my return to Tomsk from Eastern Siberia, in February, 
 I had a long interview with Dr. Orzheshko, the prison sur- 
 geon. He described to me the condition of the prison, as it 
 gradually became more and more crowded in the late fall 
 after our departure, and said to me: "You can hardly imagine 
 the state of affairs that existed here in November. We had 
 2400 cases of sickness in the course of the year, and 
 450 patients in the hospital at one time, with beds for 
 only 150. Three hundred men and women dangerously 
 sick lay on the floor in rows, most of them without pillows 
 or bed-clothing ; and in order to find even floor space for 
 them, we had to put them so close together that I could not 
 walk between them, and a patient could not cough or vomit 
 without coughing or vomiting into his own face or into the 
 face of the man lying beside him. The atmosphere in the 
 wards became so terribly polluted that I fainted repeatedly
 
 ;>2() SIBERIA 
 
 upon comiiiix into the hospital in the morning, and my 
 assistants had to revive me by dashing water into my face. 
 In order to change and purify the air, we were forced to 
 keep the windows open ; and, as winter had set in, this so 
 eliilled the rooms that we could not maintain, on the floor 
 where the sick lay, a temperature higher than five or six 
 degrees Reaumur above the freezing point. More than 
 25 per cent, of the whole prison population were constantly 
 sick, and more than 10 per cent, of the sick died.'" 
 
 " How long," I inquired, " has this awful state of things 
 existed ? " 
 
 " I have been here fifteen years," replied Dr. Orzheshko, 
 "and it has been so, more or less, ever since I came." 
 
 "And is the Grovernment at St. Petersburg aware 
 of it?" 
 
 " It has been reported upon every year. I have recom- 
 mended that the hospital of the Tomsk forwarding prison 
 be burned to the ground. It is so saturated with contagious 
 disease that it is unfit for use. We have been called upon 
 by the prison department to forward plans for a new hos- 
 pital, and we have forwarded them. They have been 
 returned for modification, and we have modified them; but 
 nothing has been done."" 
 
 It is unnecessary to comment upon this frank statement 
 of the Tomsk surgeon. Civilization and humanity can 
 
 1 The report of the inspector of exile transportation shows how rapidly the 
 sick-rate increased with the progressive overcrowding. The figures are as 
 follows : 
 
 1885, 
 
 Average daily 
 
 Per cent, of 
 
 1885, 
 
 Average daily 
 
 Per cent, of 
 
 Month. 
 
 number of 
 
 whole prison 
 
 Month. 
 
 number of 
 
 whole prison 
 
 
 sick. 
 
 population. 
 
 
 sick. 
 
 population. 
 
 Juue 
 
 108 
 
 5.8 
 
 September . 
 
 242 
 
 9.6 
 
 July 
 
 170 
 
 6.9 
 
 
 356 
 
 15.4 
 
 August 
 
 189 
 
 7.1 
 
 November . 
 
 406 
 
 . . 25.2 
 
 The sick-rate increased steadily throughout the winter until March, when it 
 reached high-water mark — 40.7 per cent.; or nearly one-half the whole prison 
 population. [Report of Inspector of Exile Transportation for 1885, p. 30 of the 
 manuscript.] 
 
 2 In 1887 fifteen thousand dollars [Rep. of the Chief Pris. Adm. for 1887. 
 were approymated for the erection of Ministry of the Interior, St. Peters- 
 new hospital barracks in this prison, burg, 1889.]
 
 THE TOMSK FORWARDING PRISON 321 
 
 safely rest upon it, without argument, their case against the 
 Tomsk forwarding prison/ 
 
 1 See Appendix E for statements of to form an independent judgment, not 
 other observers with regard to the eon- only with regard to the condition of 
 dition of this prison. An English trav- this particular prison, but with regard 
 eler — Mr. H. de Windt — inspected it to the trustworthiness of certain writ- 
 last year and says that he " entirely ers in England who describe Siberian 
 failed to recognize it "from my "ghastly prisons as equal to any in Europe, and 
 descriptions." I have appended his who assert that an exile in Siberia 
 letters and my replies together with "may be more comfortable than in 
 some other material relating to the many, and as comfortable as in most, of 
 subject, so that the reader may be able the prisons of the world." 
 
 21
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 
 
 IN the city of Tomsk, where we spent more time than in 
 any other "West- Siberian town, we had an opportunity 
 to become well acquainted with a large colony of political 
 exiles, and greatly to extend our knowledge of political 
 exile life. We met there, for the first time, men and women 
 who had taken part in the so-called "propaganda" of 
 1872-75, who had been banished by sentence of a court, 
 and who might fairly be called revolutionists. They did 
 not differ essentially from the administrative exiles in 
 Semipalatinsk, Ulbinsk and Ust Kamenogorsk, except that 
 they had been longer in exile and had had a much wider 
 range of experience. Solomon Chudnofski, for example, a 
 bright and talented publicist, about thirty-five years of age, 
 told me that he was arrested the first time at the age of nine- 
 teen, while in the university; and that he had been under 
 police surveillance, in prison, or in exile nearly all his life. 
 He was held four years and three months in solitary con- 
 finement before trial, and spent twenty months of that 
 time in a casemate of the Petropavlovsk fortress. For pro- 
 testing against illegal treatment in that great state-prison, 
 and for insisting pertinaciously upon his right to have pen, 
 ink, and paper, in order that he might address a complaint 
 to the Minister of the Interior, he was tied hand and foot, 
 and was finally put into a strait- jacket. He thereupon 
 refused to take food, and starved himself until the prison
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 323 
 
 surgeon reported that his condition was becoming critical. 
 The warden, Colonel Bogarodski, then yielded, and fm^nished 
 him with writing materials, but no reply was ever made to 
 the complaint that he drew up. He was finally tried with 
 "the 193," in 1878, upon the charge of importing pernicious 
 books, was found guilty, and was sentenced to five years of 
 penal servitude, with deprivation of all civil rights. In 
 view, however, of the length of time that he had already 
 been held in solitary confinement while awaiting trial — 
 four years and three months — the court recommended to 
 the Tsar that his sentence be commuted to exile in Western 
 Siberia for life.' 
 
 Most men would have been completely broken down by 
 nearly five years of solitary confinement and seven years of 
 exile; but Mr. Chudnof ski's energy and courage were in- 
 vincible. In spite of the most disheartening obstacles he 
 completed his education, and made a name and career for 
 himself even in Siberia. He is the author of the excellent 
 and carefully prepared history of the development of edu- 
 cational institutions in Siberia, published in the " Official 
 Year Book " of the province of Tomsk for 1885; he has made 
 two scientific expeditions to the Altai under the auspices of 
 the West-Siberian Branch of the Imperial Geographical 
 Society; he has been an indefatigable contributor to the 
 Russian periodical press ; and his book upon the Siberian 
 province of Yeniseisk took the prize offered by the Kras- 
 noyarsk city council for the best work upon that subject.^ 
 Mr. Chudnof ski impressed me as a man who, if he had been 
 born in America, might have had a career of usefulness and 
 distinction, and might have been an honor to the state. 
 
 1 Sentence in the trial of " the 193," The value of Mr, Chudnofski's book 
 
 pp. 5, 11, and 16. An official copy of was greatly impaired by censorial mu- 
 
 the document is in my possession. tilation, and the last two chapters 
 
 2 "The Province of Yeniseisk, a could not be printed at all; but even 
 
 Statistical and Politico-Economical in its expurgated form it is acknow- 
 
 Study," by S. Chudnofski, 195 pages, ledged to be one of the most important 
 
 Press of the Siberian Gazette, Tomsk, works of the kind that Siberia has yet 
 
 i885. produced.
 
 324 SIBERIA 
 
 He happened to be born in Russia, and was therefore pre- 
 destined to imprisonment and exile. 
 
 Among the most interesting of the newly arrived political 
 exiles in Tomsk was Mr. Constantine Staninkovich, the 
 editor and proprietor of the Russian magazine DielOy 
 
 PBINCE KROp6tKIN. 
 
 whose history I gave briefly in Chapter XI ["Exile by Ad- 
 ministrative Process," p. 243]. He was a close and accurate 
 observer of Russian social life, a talented novelist, a writer 
 of successful dramas, and a man of great force, energy, and 
 ability. His wife, who had accompanied him to Siberia, 
 spoke English fluently with the least perceptible accent, and 
 seemed to me to be a woman of more than ordinary culture 
 and refinement. They had one grown daughter, a pretty, 
 intelligent girl seventeen or eighteen years of age, as well 
 as two or three younger children, and the whole family made 
 upon us an extremely pleasant impression. Some of the
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 325 
 
 most delightful evenings that we had in Tomsk were spent 
 in their cozy little parlor, where we sometimes sat until 
 long after midnight listening to duets sung by Miss Staniu- 
 kovich and Prince Kropotkin ; discussing Russian methods 
 of government and the exile system ; or comparing our im- 
 pressions of London, Paris, Berlin, New York, and San 
 Francisco. Both Mr. and Mrs. Staniukovich had traveled 
 in the United States, and it seemed not a little strange to 
 find in their house in Siberia visiting-cards of such well- 
 known American officers as Captain James B. Eads and 
 Captain John Rodgers, a photograph of President Lincoln, 
 and Indian bead and birch-bark work in the shape of 
 slippers and toy canoes brought as souvenirs from Niagara 
 Falls. We had not expected to find ourselves linked to 
 political exiles in Siberia by such a multitude of common 
 experiences and memories, nor to be shown in their houses 
 such familiar things as bead-embroidered moccasins and 
 birch-bark watch-pockets made by the Tonawanda Indians. 
 Mr. Staniukovich was struggling hard, by means of literary 
 work, to support his family in exile ; and his wife, who was 
 an accomplished musician, aided him as far as possible by 
 giving music lessons. 
 
 I am glad to be able to say that, since my return to the 
 United States, Mr. Staniukovich has completed his term of 
 exile, has left the empire, and when I last heard of him was 
 in Paris. He continues to write indefatigably for the Rus- 
 sian periodicals, and has recently published a volume of 
 collected sketches entitled "Stories of the Sea." 
 
 Another political exile in whom I became deeply in- 
 terested at Tomsk was Prince Alexander Kropotkin, 
 brother of the well-known author and socialist who now 
 resides in London. As his history clearly illustrates certain 
 phases of political exile life I will briefly relate it. 
 
 Although banished to Siberia upon the charge of disloy- 
 alty Kropotkin was not a nihilist, nor a revolutionist, nor 
 even an extreme radical. His views with regard to social
 
 326 SIBERIA 
 
 and political questions would have been regarded in Amer- 
 ica, or even in western Europe, as very moderate, and 
 he liad never taken any part in Russian revolutionary 
 agitation. He was, however, a man of impetuous temper- 
 ament, high standard of honor, and great frankness and 
 directness of speech ; and these characteristics were perhaps 
 enough to attract to him the suspicious attention of the 
 Russian police. 
 
 "I am not a nihilist nor a revolutionist," he once said to 
 me indignantly, "and I never have been. I was exiled 
 simply because I dared to think, and to say what I thought, 
 about the things that happened around me, and because I 
 was the brother of a man whom the Russian Government 
 hated." 
 
 Prince Kropotkin was arrested the first time in 1858, 
 while a student in the St. Petersburg University, for hav- 
 ing in his possession a copy in English of Emerson's " Self- 
 Reliance" and refusing to say where he obtained it. The 
 book had been lent to him by one of the faculty, Professor 
 Tikhonravof, and Kropotkin might perhaps have justified 
 himself and escaped unpleasant consequences by simply 
 stating the fact; but this would not have been in accor- 
 dance with his high standard of personal honor. He did not 
 think it a crime to read Emerson, but he did regard it as 
 cowardly and dishonorable to shelter himself from the con- 
 sequences of any action behind the person of an instructor. 
 He preferred to go to prison. When Professor Tikhonravof 
 heard of Kropotkin's arrest he went at once to the rector 
 of the university, and admitted that he was the owner of 
 the incendiary volume, and the young student was thereupon 
 released. 
 
 After his graduation from the university Kropotkin went 
 abroad, studied science, particularly astronomy, and upon 
 his return to Russia made a number of important transla- 
 tions of French and English scientific works into his native 
 language. Finally he entered the Government service, and
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 327 
 
 for a time previous to his exile held an important place in 
 the Russian telegraph department. This place, however, 
 he was forced to resign in consequence of a collision with 
 the Minister of the Interior. The latter ordered Kropotkin 
 one day to send to him all the telegi*ams of a certain private 
 individual that were on file in his office. Kropotkin refused 
 to obey this order upon the ground that such action would 
 be personally dishonorable and degrading. Another less 
 scrupulous officer of the department, however, forwarded 
 the required telegrams and Kropotkin resigned. After this 
 time he lived constantly under the secret supervision of the 
 police. His brother Peter had already become prominent 
 as a revolutionist and socialist ; he himself was under sus- 
 picion ; his record, from the point of view of the Grovern- 
 ment, was not a good one; he probably injured himself 
 still further by frank but injudicious comments upon public 
 affairs; and in 1876 or 1877 he was arrested and exiled to 
 Eastern Siberia upon the vague but fatal charge of "politi- 
 cal untrustworthiness." There were no proofs against him 
 upon which a conviction could be had in a court of justice, 
 and he was therefore banished by administrative process. 
 
 His place of exile was a small town called Minusinsk, 
 situated on the Yenisei River in Eastern Siberia, more than 
 3000 miles from St. Petersburg, and about 150 miles from 
 the boundary line of Mongolia. Here, with his young wife, 
 who had voluntarily accompanied him into exile, he lived 
 quietly four or five years, devoting himself chiefly to read- 
 ing and scientific study. There were in Minusinsk at that 
 time no other political exiles, but Kropotkin found there, 
 nevertheless, one congenial companion in the person of a 
 Russian naturalist named Martianof, with whom he wan- 
 dered about the country making botanical and geological 
 collections and discussing scientific questions. To Marti- 
 anofs enthusiasm and energy and Kropotkin's sympathy 
 and encouragement, Minusinsk is indebted for its really ex- 
 cellent museum, an institution which not only is the pride
 
 328 SIBERIA 
 
 of all intelligent Siberians, but is becoming known to 
 uatnralists and archaeologists in Europe and the United 
 
 States. 
 
 Durin^'- the long series of tragic events that culminated in 
 the assassination of Alexander II., Siberia filled up rapidly 
 with political exiles, and the little town of Minusinsk had 
 to take its quota. With the arrival of these new-comers 
 began a stricter system of police supervision. As long as 
 Kropotkin was the only political exile in the place, he was 
 allowed a good deal of freedom, and was not harassed by 
 humiliating police regulations; but when the number of 
 politicals increased to twenty, the difficulty of watching 
 them all became greater, and the authorities thought it 
 necessary, as a means of preventing escapes, to require 
 every exile to report himself at stated intervals to the chief 
 of police and sign his name in a book kept for the purpose. 
 To this regulation Kropotkin refused to submit. "I have 
 lived here," he said to the isprdvnlk, "nearly five years and 
 have not yet made the first attempt to escape. If you think 
 that there is any danger of my running away now, you may 
 send a soldier or a police officer to my house every day to 
 watch me; but after being unjustly exiled to Siberia I don't 
 propose to assist the Government in its supervision of me. 
 I will not report at the police office." The isprdvnik con- 
 ferred with the governor of the province, who lived in 
 Krasnoyarsk, and by the latter's direction told Kropotkin 
 that if he refused to obey the obnoxious regulation he would 
 be banished to some place lying farther to the northward and 
 eastward, where the climate would be more severe and the 
 life less bearable. Kropotkin, however, adhered to his de- 
 termination, and appealed to General Shelashnikof, who was 
 at that time the acting governor-general of Eastern Siberia 
 and who had been on terms of personal friendship with 
 Kropotkin before the latter's banishment. General Shelash- 
 nikof replied in a cool, formal note, insisting upon obedi- 
 ence to the regulation, and warning Kropotkin that further
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 329 
 
 contumacy would have for him disastrous consequences. 
 While this appeal was pending, General Anuchin was ap- 
 pointed governor-general of Eastern Siberia, and, as a last 
 resort, Kropotkiu wrote to his aged mother in St. Peters- 
 burg to see Anuchin previous to the latter's departure for his 
 new post and present to him a petition in her son's behalf. 
 When the aged and heart-broken mother appeared with 
 her petition in General Anuchin's reception-room she was 
 treated with insulting brutality. Without reading the peti- 
 tion Anuchin threw it violently on the floor, asked her how 
 she dared to come to him with such a petition from a 
 traitor to his country, and declared that if her son " had 
 his deserts he would be cleaning the streets in some 
 Siberian city under guard, instead of walking about at 
 liberty." 
 
 By this time all of the other political exiles in Minu- 
 sinsk had submitted to the new regulation and were report- 
 ing at the police office, and Kropotkin was notified by the 
 isprdvnik that if within a stated time he did not follow their 
 example he would be banished to Turukhansk, a wretched 
 settlement of twelve or fifteen houses, situated in the 
 province of Yeniseisk, near the coast of the arctic ocean. 
 Kropotkin, however, still adhered to his resolution, and 
 after a terribly trying interview with his wife, to whom he 
 was devotedly attached, he succeeded in extorting from her 
 a promise to return to European Russia with their young 
 child, and let him go to Turukhansk alone. What this 
 promise cost them both in misery I could imagine from 
 the tears which suffused their eyes when they talked to 
 me about it. At the last moment, however, while Mrs. Kro- 
 potkin was making preparations to return to European 
 Russia, she happened to see in the Siberian Gazette a 
 letter from some correspondent — a political exile, I think 
 — in Turukhansk, describing the loneliness, dreariness, and 
 unhealthfulness of the settlement, the arctic severity of the 
 climate, the absence of all medical aid for the sick, and the
 
 330 SIBERIA 
 
 many miseries of life in such a place. This completely 
 broke down the wife's fortitude. She went to her husband, 
 convulsed with sobs, and told him that she would send her 
 child to European Eussia, or leave it with friends in Minu- 
 sinsk, but go with him to Turukhansk she must and should 
 
 to let him go there alone was beyond her strength. 
 
 ''xVfter this," said Prince Kropotkin, "there was nothing 
 for me to do but put a pistol to my head, or yield, and I 
 yielded. I went to the police office, and continued to 
 report there as long as I remained in Minusinsk." 
 
 I have related this incident in Prince Kropotkin's Sibe- 
 rian life partly because it seems to have first suggested 
 suicide to him as a means of escape from an intolerable 
 position, and partly because it is in many ways an index 
 to his character. He was extremely sensitive, proud, and 
 high-spirited, and often made a fight upon some point 
 which a cooler, more philosophic man would have taken 
 as one of the natural incidents of his situation. 
 
 About two years ago Prince Kropotkin was transferred 
 from Minusinsk to Tomsk, a change which brought him 
 a few hundred miles nearer to European Eussia, but which 
 in other respects was not perhaps a desirable one. When 
 I saw him in February he was living simply but comfort- 
 ably in a rather spacious log house, ten minutes' drive from 
 the European Hotel, and was devoting himself to literary 
 pursuits. He had a good working library of two or three 
 hundred volumes, among which I noticed the astronomical 
 works of Professors Newcomb and Holden, Stallo's " Con- 
 cepts of Science," of which he expressed a very high opin- 
 ion, several volumes of " Smithsonian Eeports," and forty or 
 fifty other American books. His favorite study was astron- 
 omy, and in this branch of science he would probably have 
 distinguished himself under more favorable circumstances. 
 After his exile, however, he was not only deprived of in- 
 struments, but had great difficulty in obtaining books ; his 
 private correspondence was under control, and he was more
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 331 
 
 or less constantly disquieted and harassed by police super- 
 vision and searches of his house; so that his completed 
 scientific work was limited to a few articles upon astro- 
 nomical subjects, written for French and German periodi- 
 cals. He was a fine hnguist, and wrote almost equally well 
 in French, G-erman, and Russian. English he read easily 
 but could not speak. 
 
 On the last day before my departure from Tomsk he 
 came to my room, bringing a letter which I had promised 
 to carry for him to one of his intimate friends in western 
 Europe. With the keen sense of honor which was one of 
 his distinguishing characteristics, he brought the letter to 
 me open, so that I might assure myself by reading it that it 
 contained nothing which would compromise- me in case the 
 Eussian police should find it in my possession. I told him 
 that I did not care to read it, that I would run the risk of car- 
 rying anything that he would run the risk of wi'iting — his 
 danger in any case would be greater than mine. He there- 
 upon seated himself at my writing-table to address the 
 envelope. We happened at the moment to be talking of 
 his brother, Pierre Kropotkin, and his pen, taking its sug- 
 gestion from his thoughts, wrote automatically upon the 
 envelope his brother's name instead of the name of the 
 person for whom the letter was intended. He discovered 
 the error almost instantly, and tearing up the envelope 
 and throwing the fragments upon the floor, he addi'essed 
 another. Late that evening, after I had gone to bed, there 
 came a knock at my door. I opened it cautiously, and was 
 confronted by Prince Kropotkin. He was embarrassed and 
 confused, and apologized for calUng at that late horn-, but 
 said that he could not sleep without finding and destroying 
 every fragment of the envelope upon which he had inad- 
 vertently written the name of his brother. " This may seem 
 to you," he said, "like absurd timidity, but it is necessary. 
 If the police should discover, as they probably will, that I 
 visited you to-day, they would not only examine the servants
 
 332 SIBERIA 
 
 as to everythiug which took place here, but would collect 
 tiiul tit toi^othev every scrap of waste paper found in your 
 room. They would thus tiiid out that I had addressed an 
 envelope to my brother, and would jump at the conclusion 
 that I had written him a letter, and had given it to you for 
 delivery. How this would atfect you I don't know, but it 
 would be fatal to me. The least I could expect would be 
 the addition of a year to my term of exile, or banishment 
 to some more remote part of Siberia. I am strictly forbid- 
 den to communicate with my brother, and have not heard 
 directly from him or been able to write to him in years." I 
 was famiUar enough with the conditions of exile life in 
 Siberia to see the force of these statements, and we began 
 at once a search for the fragments of the envelope. Every 
 scrap of paper on the floor was carefully examined, but the 
 pieces that bore the dangerous name, "Pierre A. Kro- 
 potkin," could not be found. At last my traveling com- 
 panion, Mr. Frost, remembered picking up some torn scraps 
 of paper and throwing them into the slop-basin. We then 
 dabbled in the basin for twenty minutes until we found and 
 burned every scrap of that envelope upon which there was 
 the stroke of a pen, and only then could Prince Kropotkin 
 go home and sleep. " Two years hence," he said to me as 
 he bade me good-night, " you may publish this as an illus- 
 tration of the atmosphere of suspicion and apprehension 
 in which political exiles live. In two years I hope to be 
 beyond the reach of the Russian police." Poor Kropotkin ! 
 In less than two, years his hope was realized, but not in 
 the way we then anticipated. I had hardly returned to my 
 home in the United States when the Eastern Review of St. 
 Petersburg, a newspaper devoted to the interests and the 
 news of Asiatic Russia, made the following brief an- 
 nouncement : 
 
 '' On the 25th of July, about nine o'clock in the evening. Prince 
 A. A. Kropotkin committed suicide in Tomsk by shooting himself 
 with a revolver. He had been in administrative exile about ten
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 333 
 
 years, and his term of banishment would have expired on the 9th 
 of next September. He had begun to make arrangements for re- 
 turning to Russia, and had already sent his wife and his three 
 children back to his relatives in the province of Kharkof . He was 
 devotedly attached to them, and soon after their departure he grew 
 lonely and low-spirited, and showed that he felt very deeply his 
 separation from them. To this reason for despondency must also 
 be added anxiety with regard to the means of subsistence. Al- 
 though, at one time, a rather wealthy landed proprietor, Prince 
 Kropotkin, during his long period of exile in Siberia, had expended 
 almost his whole fortune; so that on the day of his death his entire 
 property did not amount to three hundred rubles [$150]. At the 
 age of forty-five, therefore, he was compelled, for the first time, 
 seriously to consider the question how he should live and support 
 his family — a question which was the more difficult to answer for 
 the reason that a scientific man, in Russia, cannot count upon 
 earning a great deal in the field of literature, and Prince Kj-opot- 
 kin was not fitted for anything else. While under the dishearten- 
 ing influence of these considerations he received, moreover, several 
 telegrams from his relatives which he misinterpreted. Whether 
 he committed suicide as a result of sane deliberation, or whether 
 a combination of circumstances superinduced acute mental dis- 
 order, none who were near him at the moment of his death can 
 say." Eastern Review, No. 34, St. Petersbm-g, August 21, 1886. 
 
 Of course the editor of the Eastern Beview was not allowed 
 by the censor to say even one last kind word of the inno- 
 cent man who had been driven to self-destruction by in- 
 justice and exile; but I will say— and say it with all my 
 heart— that in Prince Kropotkin's death Russia lost an 
 honest man, a cultivated scholar, a true patriot, and a most 
 gallant gentleman. 
 
 To me perhaps the most attractive and sympathetic of 
 the Tomsk exiles was the Russian author Felix Volkhof ski, 
 who was banished to Siberia for life in 1878, upon the 
 charge of " belonging to a society that intends, at a more 
 or less remote time in the future, to overthrow the existing 
 form of government." He was about thirty-eight years of 
 age at the time I made his acquaintance, and was a man of
 
 ;^34 SIBERIA 
 
 cultivated miiul, warm lienrt, nnd liicjli aspirations. He 
 knew English well, was familiur with Aiiun'i(»aii history and 
 literature, and had, I believe, translated into Russian many 
 of the poems of Longfellow. He spoke to me with great 
 admiration, I i-emember, of Longfellow's "Arsenal at 
 Spriugtield," and recited it to me aloud. He was one of 
 the most winning and lovable men that it has ever been 
 m}^ good fortune to know; but his life had been a terriV^le 
 tragedy. His health had been shattered by long imprison- 
 ment in the fortress of Petropavlovsk ; his hair was prema- 
 turely gray, and when his face was in repose there seemed 
 to be an expression of profound melancholy in his dark- 
 brown eyes. I became intimately acquainted with him and 
 very warmly attached to him ; and when I bade him good- 
 by for the last time on my return from Eastern Siberia in 
 1886, he put his arms around me and kissed me, and said, 
 " George Ivanovich, i)lease don't forget us ! In bidding 
 you good-by, I feel as if something were going out of my 
 life that would never again come into it." 
 
 A little more than a year after my return to the United 
 States, Volkhofski wrote me a profoundly sad and touch- 
 ing letter, in which he informed me of the death of his 
 wife by suicide. He himself had been thrown out of em- 
 ployment by the suspension of the liberal Tomsk news- 
 paper, the Siberian Gazette; and his wife, whom I re- 
 member as a pale, delicate, sad-faced woman, twenty-five 
 or thirty years of age, had tried to help him support their 
 family of young children by giving private lessons and 
 by taking in sewing. Anxiety and overwork had finally 
 broken down her health ; she had become an invalid, and 
 in a morbid state of mind, brought on by unhappiness and 
 disease, she reasoned herself into the belief that she was an 
 incumbrance, rather than a help, to her husband and her 
 children, and that they would ultimately be better off if 
 she were dead. On the 7th of December, 1887, she put an 
 end to her unhappy life by shooting herself through the
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITIC.VL EXILES 335 
 
 head with a pistol. Her hiisbaud was devotedly attached 
 to her ; and her death, under such cii'cumstauces and iu 
 such a way, was a terrible blow to him. Iu his letter to me 
 he refen-ed to a copy of James Russell Lowell's poems that 
 I had caused to be sent to him, and said that in reading 
 ''After the Burial" he vividly realized for the fii-st time 
 that grief is of no nationahty : the lines, although wi-itteu 
 by a bereaved American, expressed the deepest thoughts 
 and feelings of a bereaved Russian. He sent me with his 
 letter a small, worn, leather match-box, which had been 
 given by Prince Pierre Kropotkiu to his exiled brother 
 Alexander: which the latter had left to Yolkhofski; and 
 which Yolkhofski had iu tuni presented to his wife a short 
 time before her death. He hoped, he said, that it would 
 have some value to me, on account of its association with 
 the hves of four political offenders, all of whom I had 
 known. One of them was a refugee in London, another 
 was an exile in Tomsk, and two had escaped the jurisdiction 
 of the Russian Government by taking their own lives. 
 
 I tried to read Volkhof ski's letter aloud to my wife ; but as 
 I recalled the high character and lovable personality of the 
 writer, and imagined what this last blow of fate must have 
 been to such a man, — in exile, in broken health, and with 
 three helpless children wholly dependent upon him, — the 
 written lines vanished in a mist of tears, and with a choking 
 in my throat I put the letter and the little match-box away. 
 
 By means of secret prearranged addresses in Russia and 
 in the United States, I succeeded in maintaining a desul- 
 tory and precaidous coiTespondence with ^h\ ^ olkhofski 
 until 1S89. In the spring of that year I received from him 
 two short letters filled with tidings of misfortune, and then — 
 nothing more. The two letters were, in part, as follows : 
 
 Tomsk. February 14, 18S9. 
 My DEAR George Ivaxovich : 
 
 I write you a few lines first to tell you how weary I am of waiting 
 for a letter fi-oni you (although I know that you have not written
 
 336 SIBERIA 
 
 on aeeonut of my warning]:), and second to gwo yon notice that I 
 sent yon some time since a mannscript addressed ... so that 
 if you have not received it you may make inquiries about it. 
 
 You have probably heard before this time of the final suppres- 
 sion of the /Siberian Gazette.^ It is hard and it is shameful ! You 
 need not hesitate any longer to write whatever you like about it 
 for publication. You will not injure the paper because there is no 
 hope of its resurrection. . . . 
 
 My youngest daughter is still si(?k and has grown so thin that it 
 is painful to look at her. 8he sleeps badly and often I have to be 
 up all night taking care of her. This, together with constant fear 
 for h(n- life, disorders my nerves terribly, and undermines what 
 health I have left. I am greatly disheartened, too, by loneliness, 
 notwithstanding my children and my friends. The affectionate 
 tenderness of a beloved wife is a thing that some natures find it 
 difficult to do without, no matter what else they may have. It is 
 very hard, sometimes, my dear fellow, to live in this world ! 
 
 Since it became apparent that I should no longer be able to sup- 
 port myself by newspaper work,^ I have been looking for some 
 other occupation or place; but, unfortunately, the present gov- 
 ernor ^ is expelling political exiles from aU public positions, and 
 even debarring them, to some extent, from private employment, by 
 showing such hostility to them that private individuals dare not 
 give them work for fear of getting into trouble. I do not know 
 how it will all end. I have sent four manuscripts to St. Peters- 
 burg, but none of them has been published. 
 
 My dear George Ivanovich, may you be well and happy ! I am 
 impatiently awaiting your photograph and hope that it will have 
 your autograph on it. With most cordial remembrances to your 
 wife, I am Yours, Felix. 
 
 1 The Siberian Gazette, the only lib- publication by it of an obituary notice 
 
 eral and progressive newspaper in of a political exile named Zabaluief, 
 
 Western Siberia, was suspended for whose life and character had won the 
 
 eight months on the 3d of April, 1887, respect of everybody in Tomsk, 
 
 as the result of a secret report made 2 On account of the suppression of 
 
 by the Governor of Tobolsk to the the Siberian Gazette. Mr. Volkhofski 
 
 Minister of the Interior. It survived had conducted the department of city 
 
 this blow, but was finally suppressed news. 
 
 altogether in the latter part of 1888. 3 Governor Bulubd,sh, formerly vice- 
 
 The only reasons assigned for this governor of the province of Taurida. 
 
 persecution of an able and honorable His predecessor. Governor Laks, was a 
 
 newspaper were first, the use by it of comparatively liberal and enlightened 
 
 news and literary material furnished man. 
 by political exiles, and second, the
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 337 
 
 Irkutsk, Eastern Siberia, May 7, 1889. 
 My dear good Friend: 
 
 How long it is since I last received a line from you, and how 
 mucli I have needed your letters ! They bring to me all the men- 
 tal refreshment and all the gladness that life has for me, and at 
 times I am sorely in need of them. Fate has dealt me another 
 blow. My youngest daughter Katie died a month or two since of 
 pneumonia. She had an attack of bronchitis winter before last 
 which developed into chronic inflammation of the lungs ; but in the 
 spring of 1888 I took her into the country, where she grew better 
 and began to run about and play. Unfortunately, however, she 
 was exposed there to whooping-cough, took the infection, and it 
 ended in acute pneumonia and death. She was about three years 
 old — and such a dear lovable child ! But whose child is not dear 
 and lovable! At any rate — 
 
 No ! I can't wiite any more about it ! This is the second time 
 within a few days that I have tried to wi'ite you of her — but I can- 
 not — it hurts me too much ! As long as I am busy and can talk or 
 write of other things, it seems as if the wound were healed ; but let 
 ray thoughts once go to her, and I feel such grief and pain that I 
 don't know what to do with myseK. 
 
 I must explain to you how I happen to be in Irkutsk. It is a 
 very simple story. Thanks to the recommendation of some of my 
 Irkutsk friends I was offered here a place that was suited to my 
 tastes and abilities, and I hastened to migrate. They wiU always 
 know my address here at the post-office.^ 
 
 All of your Irkutsk friends send you their regards. I could and 
 would write you a great deal more, but I don't want to detain this 
 letter and will therefore postpone the rest until next time. My 
 warmest regards to your wife. Write me ! 
 
 Affectionately, Felix. 
 
 After the receipt of this letter I wrote Mr. Volkhofski 
 twice, but I heard from him no more. What had happened 
 to him I could only conjecture; but as month after month 
 
 3 When political offenders sentenced They are still kept under police sur- 
 
 merelyto " domestication " [«a shityo'] veillance, but are allowed to go any- 
 
 or colonization [naposeUnie] have been where within the limits of certain 
 
 ten years in exile, and have behaved dur- provinces. After I returned to the 
 
 ing that time in a manner satisfactory United States, Mr. Volkhofski received 
 
 to the authorities, it is customary to a "ticket of leave " of this kind. 
 give them more freedom of movement. 
 09
 
 338 SIBERIA 
 
 passed witliout bringing any news from him, I felt more 
 and more apprehensive that the sorrows and hardships of 
 his life had been too gi*eat for his strength and that the 
 next tidings of him would be the news of his death. At 
 last, in November, 1889, when I had almost given up hope, 
 I was astonished and delighted to receive one day a letter 
 addressed in his familiar handwriting, but stamped with a 
 Canadian stamp and postmarked " Vancouver." 
 
 "How did he ever get a letter mailed at Vancouver?" I 
 said to myself, and hastily tearing open the envelope I read 
 the first three lines. They were as follows : 
 
 " My dear George Ivanovich : At last I am free ! I am 
 writing this letter to you not from that land of exile, Siberia, 
 but from free America." 
 
 If I had . suddenly received a letter postmarked " Zanzi- 
 bar " from a friend whom I believed to be dead and buried 
 in Minnesota, I could hardly have been more astonished or 
 excited. Volkhofski free and in British Columbia ! It 
 seemed utterly incredible ; and in a maze of bewilderment 
 I stoj)ped reading the letter to look again at the postmark. 
 It was unquestionably " Vancouver," and as I stared at it I 
 came slowly to a realization of the fact that, in some extra- 
 ordinary and incomprehensible way, Volkhofski had not 
 only escaped, but had crossed the Pacific and was within a 
 few days' journey of New York. His letter, which was brief 
 and hurried, merely announced his escape from exile by 
 way of the Amur River, Vladivostok, and Japan, and his 
 intention of coming to me in Washington as soon as he 
 could be sure of finding me there. In the mean time I need 
 not, he said, feel any anxiety about him, because he still had 
 sixty Mexican silver dollars left, and was with a steamer 
 acquaintance who had taken a warm and generous interest 
 in his fortunes. 
 
 At the time when I received this letter I was lecturing six 
 nights a week in New York and New England ; but I tele- 
 graphed and wrote Volkhofski that I would meet him at
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 339 
 
 the Delavan House in Albany on the morning of Sunday, 
 December 8th. I spoke Saturday night in Utica, took the 
 night express for Albany, and reached the Delavan House 
 about two o'clock. Volkhofski had not yet arrived, and as 
 it was uncertain when he would come I went to bed. Early 
 in the morning a bell-boy knocked loudly at my door and 
 handed me a slip of paper upon which, in Volkhofski's hand- 
 writing, were the words, " My dear fellow, I am here." 
 
 If any of the guests of the Delavan House happened to 
 be passing through that corridor on their way to breakfast 
 three minutes later, they must have been sui-prised to see, 
 at the door of No. 90, a man with disheveled hair and no- 
 thing on but his night-shirt locked in the embrace of a 
 traveler who had not had time to remove his Pacific-coast 
 sombrero and heavy winter overcoat. 
 
 Volkhofski was in better health than I had expected to see 
 him, but his face was worn and haggard, and at times there 
 was a peculiar anxious hunted expression in his eyes which 
 showed that he had recently been under gi^eat mental and 
 emotional strain. We talked almost without intermission for 
 twelve hours, and he related to me at length the story of his 
 escape. When he wrote me the last time from Siberia in 
 May, 1889, he was living with his little daughter Vera in 
 Irkutsk, where he had found congenial employment, and 
 where he was trying, by means of hard work, to lighten the 
 sense of loneliness and bereavement that he had felt since 
 the death of his wife and his daughter Katie. Hardly had 
 his life begun to seem once more bearable when there came 
 upon him a new misfortune in the shape of an order from the 
 governor-generar to leave the city. He had committed no 
 new offense, and there was no reason, so far as he was aware, 
 for this arbitrary and imperative order; but General Ignatief 
 seemed to be of opinion that the presence of a liberal author 
 and journalist, and moreover a " political," in the city of 
 
 1 Governor-general Ignatief, brother of the well-known diplomatist. He is 
 now governor-general of Kiev.
 
 340 SIBERIA 
 
 Irkutsk would be " prejudicial to public tranquillitj^" and 
 \'olkh6t'ski was therefore directed to " move on." Leaving 
 his little daughter Vera with acquaintances in Irkutsk, he 
 proceeded to Troitskosavsk, a small town on the frontier of 
 Mongolia, where one of his friends, a political exile named 
 Charushin, had for some time been living. The police 
 there, however, had been apprised of his expulsion from 
 Irkutsk, and assuming, of course, that he must be a very 
 dangerous or a very troublesome man, they hastened to 
 inform him that he could not be permitted to take up liis 
 residence in Troitskosavsk. They did not care whither he 
 went, but he must go somewhere beyond the limits of their 
 jurisdiction. Indignant and disheartened, Volkhof ski then 
 resolved to abandon temporarily his little daughter Vera, 
 whom he had left in Irkutsk, and make his escape, if pos- 
 sible, to the United States by way of the Pacific Ocean. He 
 had a little money derived from the sale of a small volume 
 of poems which he had published before leaving Tomsk\ and 
 if that should fail before he reached his destination, he de- 
 termined to work as a stevedore, or a common laborer of 
 some sort, until he should earn enough to go on. His ob- 
 jective point was the city of Washington, where he expected 
 to find me. The nearest seaport on the Pacific where he 
 could hope to get on board a foreign steamer was Vladi- 
 vostok, about 2800 miles away. The distance to be traversed 
 under the eyes of a suspicious and hostile police was im- 
 mense ; but Volkhof ski was cautious, prudent, and experi- 
 enced, and assuming the character of a retired army officer 
 he set out, with " free " horses, for the head waters of the 
 Amur Eiver, where he expected to take a steamer. I can- 
 not, of com^se, go into the details of his difficult and perilous 
 journey from Troitskosavsk to Stretinsk, from Stretinsk 
 down the Amur by steamer to Khabarofka, and from Khab- 
 arofka up the tJssuri and across Lake Khanka to Vladivos- 
 
 1 " Siberian Echoes," by Ivan Brut [a pseudonym]. Mikhdilof and Makusbin, 
 Tomsk, 1889.
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 341 
 
 tok. It was a journey full of adventures and narrow escapes, 
 and nothing but the coolness, courage, and good fortune of 
 the fugitive carried him through in safety. There were 
 four foreign vessels in the port of Vladivostok at that time, 
 and one of them, a coal steamer, was flying the flag of Great 
 Britain. Volkhofski went on board, ascertained that the 
 steamer was bound for Japan, and asked the captain if he 
 would take a passenger who had neither passport nor official 
 permission to leave the empire. The captain hesitated at 
 first, but when Volkhofski related his story, said that he 
 was able and willing to pay for his passage, and exhibited 
 my photograph and letters as proofs of his trustworthiness, 
 the captain consented to take him. A hiding-place was soon 
 found for him, and when the Russian officials came on board 
 to clear the vessel, he was nowhere to be seen. A few hours 
 later the steamer was at sea, and the escaping political exile, 
 as he stood on the upper deck and watched the slow fading 
 of the Siberian coast in the west, drew a long deep breath 
 of relief, and turned his face, with reviving hope, towards 
 the land where a personal opinion concerning human affairs 
 is not regarded as " prejudicial to public tranquillity," and 
 where a man who tries to make the world better and hap- 
 pier is not punished for it with seven years of solitary con- 
 finement, eleven years of exile, and the loss of more than 
 half his family. 
 
 After having paid his steamer fare from Vladivostok to 
 Nagasaki, and from Nagasaki to Yokohama, Volkhofski 
 found himself in the latter j)lace with hardly money enough 
 to get across the Pacific, and not half enough to reach 
 Washington. He made inquiries concerning vessels about 
 to sail for the western coast of America, and found that the 
 English steamer Batavia was on the point of clearing for 
 Vancouver, British Columbia. Groing at once on board he 
 asked the purser what the fare to Vancouver would be in 
 the steerage. The ofiicer looked at him for a moment, saw 
 that, although a foreigner, he was unmistakably a gentle-
 
 342 SIBERIA 
 
 man, and thou replied, bluntly but not unkindly, "You 
 can't go in the steerage — it 's jammed full of Chinese emi- 
 grants. Nobody ever goes in the steerage except Chinamen ; 
 it 's no place for you." Volkhofski replied that the case was 
 urgent — that he must get to British Columbia at once — 
 and as he had not money enough to pay even for a second- 
 class passage, there was nothing for him to do but go third 
 class. The purser finally sold him a steerage ticket, but 
 declared, nevertheless, that a white man could not possibly 
 live for three weeks with opium-smoking Chinese coolies, 
 and that he should put him in some other part of the ves- 
 sel as soon as possible after leaving port. 
 
 Until the Batavia had actually sailed and was out of 
 the harbor, Volkhofski did not dare to let the passengers, 
 or even the officers, of the steamer know who he really 
 was and whence he had come. The Japanese were in the 
 habit of giving up Siberian refugees to the Russian author- 
 ities ; and if it should accidentally become known that he 
 was an escaping political exile, he might be arrested, even 
 in Yokohama, and put on board a Russian man-of-war. He 
 believed that he had narrowly escaped detection and cap- 
 ture in Nagasaki, and he did not intend to run any more 
 risks that could be avoided. At last, however, when the 
 Batavia was far at sea, and the coast of Japan had sunk 
 beneath the rim of the western horizon, he told his story 
 to the officers of the ship, and afterward admitted to the 
 passengers with whom he became acquainted that he was 
 an escaped political exile from Siberia. The interest and 
 sympathy excited by his narrative deepened as the officers 
 and passengers became better acquainted with him, and 
 long before the Batavia reached Vancouver, he had so 
 completely won the hearts of the whole ship's company 
 that they took up a collection for the purpose of providing 
 him with transportation from Vancouver to the city of 
 Washington. To this collection every soul on board con- 
 tributed, from the captain down to the steward, the cook,
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 343 
 
 and the boy who cleaned the ship's lamps.' More than 
 enough money was obtained to defray his expenses across 
 the continent, and when he left the steamer he had not only 
 the sixty Mexican silver dollars about which he wrote me, 
 but a first-class ticket to Washington, and a cordial invi- 
 tation from one of the passengers — Mr. Allan Huber of 
 Berlin, Ontario — to stay at his house until my whereabouts 
 could be ascertained. 
 
 When Volkhofski met me in Albany, he was terribly 
 anxious with regard to the safety of his nine-year-old 
 daughter Vera, whom he had left with friends in the capital 
 of Eastern Siberia. He feared that, as soon as his escape 
 should become known, the Grovernment would seize the 
 little girl, and either use her as a means of compelling him 
 to return or put her into a state asylum, where she would 
 virtually be lost to him forever. 
 
 " If I can only get my little girl," he said to me, " I shall 
 feel as if I had strength and spirit enough to begin a new 
 life ; but if I lose her, I may as well give up the struggle." 
 
 " We '11 get your little girl," I replied, " if we have to re- 
 sort to fraud, violence, false passports, and kidnapping" — 
 and we did get her. In June, 1890, Volkhofski went to 
 London, so as to be nearer the field of operations, and six 
 weeks later I received from him a cablegram saying, 
 " Hurrah ! my child has arrived." 
 
 In a recent letter to a friend in Buffalo, New York, 
 the well-known English novelist, Hesba Stretton, speaks 
 of Volkhofski and his daughter as follows: 
 
 " Volkhofski, who escaped from Siberia rather more than 
 a year ago, has been lecturing in England all winter. He 
 has a charming little daughter ten years old who was born 
 in exile. She has been staying for a fortnight with my 
 married sister and her two daughters, and they are quite 
 
 1 The steward beeame so much at- Montreal, he came to call upon me for 
 taehed to Volkhofski, in the course of the purpose of making inquiries about 
 the voyage, that long afterward, in him.
 
 ;U4 SIBERIA 
 
 delighted with her ; she is so original and affectionate, and 
 she has had so much tragedy in her short life, which she 
 speaks of now and then as if horrors were a natural part of 
 existence to her. She was brought through Siberia and 
 Russia disguised as a boy. We hope to wean her thoughts 
 from these terrible subjects and give her something of., the 
 ordinary joys of girlhood. But her destiny must be a sad 
 one, for she will surely [and quite rightly] throw in her lot 
 with the revolutionists of Russia, and unless the revo- 
 lution comes soon our little Vera will spend much of her 
 life in prison and in exile. She was showing Annie how 
 the orthodox Russians hold their thumbs and tw^o fingers 
 pressed together to represent the Trinity during their wor- 
 ship, and then she said, ' But Grod does n't mind how we 
 hold our fingers, does he?' She was moaning in her sleep 
 one night, and when Daisy woke her she said, 'I dreamed 
 there were spies in the room, and I pretended to be asleep 
 till they went to sleep, and then I got up and crept to the 
 cot where my baby brother was. I said, "Hush ! don't make 
 a noise, for there are spies in the room," and I took him up 
 and went to the door watching the spies all the time, and I 
 opened the door and there were some men hung up, and 
 my father's head lay on the ground and his body was a 
 little way off covered with a white cloth.' Think of that 
 for the dream of a child of ten years, and think how count- 
 less are the sorrows and wrongs inflicted by the Czar of 
 Russia and his Government ! And they say he is a humane, 
 Christian man. Alas ! what horrible things are said to 
 be Christian." 
 
 Mr. Volkhofski is now editing in London the newspaper 
 Free Russia, the organ of the English society known as 
 " The Friends of Russian Freedom." 
 
 The extension of our acquaintance in Tomsk, on one side 
 with Government officials, and on the other with political 
 exiles, led now and then to peculiar and embarrassing situ- 
 ations. A day or two before our departure for Irkutsk,
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 345 
 
 while two of the politicals — Messrs. Volkhof ski and Chud- 
 nofski — were sitting in our room at the European Hotel, 
 a servant suddenly knocked, threw open the door, and an- 
 nounced his Excellency Actual State Councilor Petukhof, 
 the governor j>ro tern, of the province. My heart, as the Rus- 
 sians say, went into my fingers' ends. I did not know what 
 relations existed between the banished revolutionists and 
 Vice-governor Petukhof. We had called several times upon 
 the latter without referring in any way to our acquaintance 
 with this class of criminals ; and in all our intercourse with 
 the Tomsk officials we had treated the subject of political 
 exile with studied indifference, in order to avert suspicion and 
 escape troublesome inquiries. To be then surprised by the 
 vice-governor himself while two prominent politicals were 
 sitting in our room and writing at our table was, to say the 
 least, embarrassing. I had just had time to ask Volkhof ski 
 and Chudnofski whether or not I should introduce them to 
 the vice-governor, when the latter, in full uniform, entered 
 the room. There was a curious expression of surprise in his 
 good-humored face as he took in at a glance the situation ; 
 but the removal of his heavy overcoat and galoshes gave 
 him an opportunity to recover himself, and as he came for- 
 ward with outstretched hand to greet Mr. Frost and me 
 there was nothing in his manner to indicate the least an- 
 noyance or embarrassment. He shook hands cordially with 
 the two political exiles who had been condemned by a court 
 of justice to penal servitude ; began at once a conversation 
 in which they could join, and behaved generally with so 
 much tact and courtesy, that in five minutes we were all 
 chatting together as unceremoniously as if we were old 
 acquaintances who had met accidentally at a club. It was, 
 however, a strangely constituted group: an American 
 newspaper man; an American artist; two political exiles 
 who had been punished with solitary confinement, leg- 
 fetters, and the strait-jacket ; and, finally, the highest pro- 
 vincial representative of the Government that had so dealt
 
 346 SIBERIA 
 
 with these exiles — all meeting upon the common footing of 
 personal character, and ignoring, for the time, the peculiar 
 network of interrelations that united them. Whether or not 
 Vice-governor Petukhof reported to the Minister of the In- 
 terior that we had made the acquaintance of the political 
 criminals in Tomsk, I do not know — probably not. He 
 seemed to me to be a faithful officer of the Crown, but, at 
 the same time, a man of culture, ability, and good sense; 
 and while he doubtless disapproved of the revolutionary 
 movement, he recognized the fact that among the banished 
 revolutionists were men of education, refinement, and high 
 personal character, who might, naturally enough, attract 
 the attention of foreign travelers. 
 
 The number of politicals in Tomsk, at the time of our visit, 
 was about thirty, including six or eight women. Some of 
 them were administrative exiles, who had only just arrived 
 from European Russia; some were i)oselents% or forced 
 colonists, who had been banished originally to " the most 
 remote part " of Siberia, but who had finally been allowed 
 to return in broken health to a "less remote part"; while 
 a few were survivors of the famous " 193," who had lan- 
 guished for years in the casemates of the Petropavlovsk 
 fortress, and had then been sent to the plains of Western 
 Siberia. 
 
 I was struck by the composure with which these exiles 
 would sometimes talk of intolerable injustice and frightful 
 sufferings. The men and women who had been sent to the 
 province of Yakutsk for refusing to take the oath of alle- 
 giance to Alexander III., and who had suffered in that arctic 
 wilderness all that human beings can suffer from hunger, 
 cold, sickness, and bereavement, did not seem to be con- 
 scious that there was anything very extraordinary in their 
 experience. Now and then some man whose wife had com- 
 mitted suicide in exile would flush a little and clinch his 
 hands as he spoke of her ; or some broken-hearted woman 
 whose baby had frozen to death in her arms on the road
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 347 
 
 would sob at intervals as she tried to tell me her story ; 
 but, as a rule, both men and women referred to injustice 
 and suffering with perfect composure, as if they were 
 nothing more than the ordinary accidents of life. Mr. 
 Volkhofski showed me one day, I remember, a large collec- 
 tion of photographs of his revolutionary friends. When- 
 ever a face struck me as being noteworthy, on account of 
 its beauty or character, I would ask whose it was. 
 
 " That," he would say quietly, " is Miss A , once a 
 
 teacher in a peasant school ; she died of prison consump- 
 tion in Kiev three years ago. The man with the full beard 
 
 is B , formerly a justice of the peace in N ; he was 
 
 hanged at St. Petersburg in 1879. The thin-faced girl is 
 Miss C , one of the so-called propagandists ; she went in- 
 sane in the House of Preliminary Detention while awaiting 
 trial. The pretty young woman with the cross on the 
 
 sleeve of her dress is Madame D , a Eed Cross nurse in 
 
 one of the field hospitals during the late Russo-Turkish 
 war ; she was sentenced to twenty years of penal servitude 
 and is now at the mines of Kara. The lady opposite her 
 
 on the same page is Miss E , formerly a student in the 
 
 Beztuzhef medical school for women in St. Petersburg ; she 
 cut her throat with a piece of broken glass, after two years 
 of solitary confinement in the fortress." 
 
 In this way Mr. Volkhofski went through his whole collec- 
 tion of photographs, suggesting or sketching hastily in a few 
 dry, matter-of-fact words the terrible tragedies in which 
 the originals of the portraits had been actors. He did not 
 show the least emotional excitement, and from his manner 
 it might have been supposed that it was the commonest 
 thing in the world for one's friends to be hanged, sent to 
 the mines, driven insane by solitary confinement, or tortured 
 into cutting their throats with broken glass. His compo- 
 sure, however, was not insensibility, nor lack of sympathy. 
 It was rather the natural result of long familiarity with 
 such tragedies. One may become accustomed in time even
 
 348 SIBERIA 
 
 to the sights and sounds of a field hospital, and the Russian 
 revolutionists have become so accustomed to injustice and 
 misery that they can speak without emotional excitement 
 of things that made my face flush and my heart beat fast 
 with indignation or pity. 
 
 " Twice in my life," said a well-known Russian liberal to 
 me," I have fully realized what it means to be a free citizen. 
 The first time was when I returned to Russia from the 
 United States in 187-, and noticed at the frontier the dif- 
 ference between the attitude taken by the gendarmes to- 
 wards me and their attitude towards Englishmen who 
 entered the empire with me. The second time was just 
 now, when I saw the effect produced upon you by the story 
 
 that Mr. B was relating to you. That story seemed to 
 
 you — as I could plainly see from the expression of your 
 face — something awful and almost incredible. To me it 
 was no more surprising or extraordinary than an account of 
 the running-over of a man in the street. As I watched the 
 play of expression in your face — as I was forced to look at 
 the facts, for a moment, from your point of view — I felt 
 again, to the very bottom of my soul, the difference between 
 a free citizen and a citizen of Russia." 
 
 In Tomsk we began to feel for the first time the nervous 
 strain caused by the sight of irremediable human misery. 
 Our journey through southwestern Siberia and the Altai 
 had been off the great exile route; the politicals whose 
 acquaintance we had made in Semipalatinsk, Ulbinsk, and 
 Ust Kamenogorsk were fairly well treated and did not seem 
 to be suffering; and it was not until we reached Tomsk 
 that we were brought face to face with the tragedies of 
 exile life. From that time, however, until we recrossed the 
 Siberian frontier on our way back to St. Petersburg, we 
 were subjected to a nervoas and emotional strain that was 
 sometimes harder to bear than cold, hunger, or fatigue. 
 One cannot witness unmoved such suffering as we saw in 
 the halagdns and the hospital of the Tomsk forwarding
 
 THE LIFE OF POLITICAL EXILES 349 
 
 prison, nor can one listen without the deepest emotion to 
 such stories as we heard from political exiles in Tomsk, 
 Krasnoyarsk, Irkutsk, and the Trans-Baikal. One pale, 
 sad, delicate woman, who had been banished to Eastern 
 Siberia, and who had there gone down into the valley of 
 the shadow of death, undertook, one night, I remember, to 
 relate to me her experience. I could see that it was agony 
 for her to live over in narration the sufferings and bereave- 
 ments of her tragic past, and I would gladly have spared 
 her the seK-imposed torture; but she was so determined 
 that the world should know through me what Russians 
 endure before they become terrorists, that she nerved her- 
 self to bear it, and between fits of haK-controlled sobbing, 
 during which I could only pace the floor, she told me the 
 story of her life. It was the saddest story I had ever heard. 
 After such an interview as this with a heart-broken woman 
 — and I had many such — I could neither sleep nor sit still; 
 and to the nervous strain of such experiences, quite as 
 much as to hardship and privation, was attributable the 
 final breaking down of my health and strength in the 
 Trans-Baikal. 
 
 Before I left the city of Tomsk for Eastern Siberia, most 
 of my long-cherished opinions with regard to nihilists and 
 the working of the exile system had been completely over- 
 thrown. I could not, by any process of readjustment or 
 modification, make my preconceived ideas fit the facts as I 
 found them. In a letter written from Tomsk to the Presi- 
 dent of The Century Company on the 26th of August, 1885, 
 I indicated the change that had taken place in my views as 
 follows : 
 
 The exile system is much worse than I supposed. Mr. 's 
 
 examination of prisons and study of the exile system were ex- 
 tremely superficial. I cannot understand how, if he really went 
 through the Tiumen and Tomsk forwarding prisons, he could have 
 failed to see that then- condition and the condition of their wretched 
 inmates were in many respects shocking. Nobody here has tried
 
 350 SIBEIUA 
 
 to conceal it from me. The acting governor of this province said 
 to me very frankly yesterday that the condition of the Tomsk 
 prison is uzhdsnoi [awfnl], but that he cannot help it. . . . 
 What I have pre\'iously written and said about the treatment of 
 the political exiles seems to be substantially true and accurate, — 
 at least so far as Western Siberia is concerned, — but my precon- 
 ceived ideas as to their character have been rudely shaken. The 
 Russiau liberals and revolutionists whom I have met here are by 
 no means half-educated enthusiasts, crazy fanatics, or men whose 
 numtal processes it is difficult to understand. On the contrary, 
 they are simple, natural, perfectly comprehensible, and often 
 singularly interesting and attractive. One sees at once that they 
 are educated, reasonable, self-controlled gentlemen, not different 
 in any essential respect from one's self. When I write up this 
 country for The Century, I shall have to take back some of the 
 things that I have said. The exile system is worse than I believed 
 it to be, and worse than I have described it. It is n't pleasant, of 
 course, to have to admit that one has written upon a subject with- 
 out fully understanding it; but even that is better than trying, 
 for the sake of consistency, to maintain a position after one sees 
 that it is utterly untenable.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 
 
 ON Friday, August 28tli, after bidding good-by to the po- 
 litical exiles in Tomsk and making final calls upon Colo- 
 nel Yagodkin and two or three other officers who had been 
 particularly kind and hospitable to us, Mr. Frost and I pro- 
 cured a fresh padorozlmaya, climbed once more into our old 
 tdrantds, and set out, with a troika of good post-horses, for 
 Irkutsk, the capital of Eastern Siberia, which was distant 
 from Tomsk 1040 miles. Governor Petukhof had promised 
 that he would send us an open letter directing all convoy 
 officers within his jurisdiction to allow us to inspect etapes; 
 but he had forgotten it, or had reconsidered his promise 
 after finding the political exiles in our room at the Euro- 
 pean Hotel, and we were left to gain admission to etapes as 
 best we could. Our journey of 260 miles to Achinsk, the 
 first town in Eastern Siberia, was not marked by any note- 
 worthy incident. The part of the province of Tomsk 
 through which we passed was generally rolling, or broken 
 by ranges of low hills, and in appearance it suggested at 
 times the thinly settled forest region of eastern Maine, and 
 at others the fertile farming country of western New York. 
 In some places we rode for hours through a dense second 
 growth of birches, poplars, and evergreens, which hid from 
 sight everything except the sky and the black muddy road, 
 and then, a dozen miles farther on, we would come out into 
 an extensive open prairie embroidered with daisies, or cross 
 a wide shallow valley whose bottom and sloping sides were
 
 'A'y2 SIBERIA 
 
 covered with an irregular patchwork of cultivated fields. 
 The weather was cool and fall-like, but the mosquitos 
 were still troublesome, and the flowers continued to be 
 abundant. On the (itli of September I counted thirty-four 
 different kinds of flowers in blossom beside the road, in- 
 cluding wild roses, forget-me-nots, crane's-bill, two or three 
 species of aster, goldenrod, wild mustard, monk's-hood, 
 spirea, buttercups, fireweed, bluebells, vase pinks, and 
 Kirghis caps. Many of them were blooming out of their 
 proper season and were represented by only a few scattered 
 specimens; but of others we might have picked millions. 
 The most attractive and highly cultivated region that we 
 saw was that lying between the post-stations of Itatskaya 
 and Bogotolskaya, about fifty miles west of Achinsk. The 
 weather was warm and pleasant, and the picture presented 
 by the fertile rolling country with its rich autumnal color- 
 ing, the clumps of silver birch and poplar here and there in 
 the flowery meadows, the extensive fields of ripe yellow 
 wheat which stretched away up the gentle sunny slopes of 
 the hills, and the groups of men and women in scarlet or 
 blue shirts who were harvesting the grain with clumsy 
 sickles, or eating their noonday lunch in the shade of a 
 frost-tinted birch by the roadside, was not unworthy of an 
 artist's pencil, nor of comparison with any rural landscape 
 of like character in the world. 
 
 The villages, however, in this part of Siberia were less 
 deserving of commendation than was the scenery. They 
 consisted generally of a double line of gray, unpainted log 
 houses extending sometimes for two or three versts along 
 the miry, chocolate-colored road, without the least sign any- 
 where of foliage or vegetation, except, perhaps, the leafy 
 branch of a tree nailed up at the door of one of the numer- 
 ous kahdks, "Rhine cellars," "drinking establishments," 
 piteini doms or ojMvl sklads, which in every Siberian village 
 bring revenue to the Government and demoralization to 
 the peasants. These bush-decorated houses are of many
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 353 
 
 diffefrent sorts and go by many different names; but they 
 all sell vodka, and, to a great extent, they are responsible 
 for the dirty, slovenly, and poverty-stricken appearance of 
 the peasant villages on the great Siberian road. There 
 are thirty rum-shops to every school throughout Western 
 Siberia, and thirty-five rum-shops to every school through- 
 out Eastern Siberia ; and in a country where there exists 
 such a disproportion between the facilities for education 
 and the facilities for intoxication, one cannot reasonably 
 expect to find clean, orderly, or prosperous villages. 
 
 The graveyards belonging to the Siberian settlements 
 sometimes seemed to me much more remarkable and note- 
 worthy than the settlements themselves. Near one of the 
 villages that we passed in this part of our journey, I noticed 
 a cemetery in which nearly half the graves were marked by 
 jet-black, three-armed, wooden crosses, covered with nar- 
 row A-shaped roofs, and surrounded by red, gi^een, blue, 
 and yellow picket-fences. Some of the peculiar black 
 crosses bore the English letters " I. H. S." on one of the 
 arms, while others had painted on them in white the figure 
 of Christ crucified — the legs being made extraordinarily 
 long and thin so as to occupy the whole length of the up- 
 right shaft. Anything more remarkable than one of these 
 ghastly white figures, on a black cross, under a gable roof, 
 with a cheerful red, white, and blue picket-fence around it, 
 I could hardly imagine ; but it furnished a striking proof 
 that the Russian love for crude color triumphs even over 
 death. I do not remember to have seen bright colore used 
 in a graveyard in any other part of the world or among 
 any other people. 
 
 Harvesting was in progi-ess all along the road between 
 Tomsk and Achinsk, and in many places the whole popula- 
 tion, with the exception of the post-station-master and three 
 or four drivers, had gone to the fields. In one village the 
 only inhabitant whom we saw was a flaxen-haired child 
 about five years of age, dressed in a dirty homespun shirt, 
 23
 
 3o4 SIBERIA 
 
 wearing on a string about its neck a huge cow-bell, and 
 gnawing contentedly at a big raw turnip, as it paddled 
 along the deserted street half-way up to its knees in mud. 
 Whether the cow-bell was one of the child's playthings, or 
 whether the mother had made use of it as a means of finding 
 her offspring when she should return from the harvest field, 
 I do not know ; but the combination of child, turnip, and 
 cow-bell, in a village that did not appear to contain another 
 living inhabitant, was novel enough to attract my attention. 
 
 In the outskirts of another settlement we were reminded 
 once more that we were in a penal colony by the sight of a 
 handcuffed horse grazing peacefully by the roadside. I 
 knew that the Russian Government had once flogged and 
 exiled to Siberia a free-thinking and insubordinate church- 
 belP because it had not self-control enough to hold its 
 tongue when turned upside down ; but I was a little startled, 
 nevertheless, by the idea, which at once suggested itself to 
 me, that the Government had taken to exiling and hand- 
 cuffing " untrustworthy " horses. Upon making inquiries 
 of the station-master, I was gratified to learn that this was 
 not a horse that had behaved in a manner " prejudicial to 
 public tranquillity " by refusing to neigh upon the accession 
 to the throne of Alexander III., but was merely an animal 
 addicted to vagrancy, whose owner had hobbled him with an 
 old pair of Government handcuffs in order to prevent him 
 from straying. The peasant to whom he belonged had un- 
 fortunately lost the key to the handcuffs, and for two or 
 three months the horse had been as useless for all practical 
 purposes as a spiked cannon. 
 
 Between the post-stations of Krasnorechinskaya and 
 Bieloyarskaya, about twenty miles west of Achinsk, we 
 crossed the boundary line between the provinces of Tomsk 
 and Yeniseisk, and entered the vast region known as 
 Eastern Siberia. The boundary was marked by two brick 
 columns about two feet square and seven feet high, which 
 
 1 The celebrated bell of Uglieh. It is now in Tobolsk.
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 355 
 
 bore on their eastern and western sides the coats of arms 
 of the two coterminous provinces. The rate of postal 
 transportation changed at this point from one and a half 
 kopeks to three kopeks per verst for every horse, and our 
 
 AN OLD SIBERIAN FEKRY-BOAT. 
 
 traveling expenses were thus almost doubled, without any 
 commensurate increase in comfort or in speed. The rea- 
 son assigned for this change in rate is the higher cost of for- 
 age and food in Eastern Siberia ; but the Government, in 
 dealing with its exiles, does not apparently give any weight 
 to this consideration. If the necessaries of life are so high 
 in Eastern Siberia as to justify the doubling of the rate 
 for postal transportation, it would seem to follow that they 
 are high enough to require some increase in the ration al- 
 lowance of the exiles on the road ; but no such increase is
 
 356 SIBERIA 
 
 made. No matter whether it is in Western Siberia or in 
 Eastern Siberia, whether black bread costs two kopeks a 
 pound or seven kopeks a pound, the exile receives neither 
 more nor less than ten kopeks a day. The result of this is 
 tliat in Western Siberia he generally has enough food to sus- 
 tain his strength, while in Eastern Siberia, and particularly 
 in the Trans-Baikal, he often suffers from hunger. 
 
 We passed the town of Achinsk on Tuesday, September 
 1st, and entered upon the most difficult and exhausting part 
 of our journey. The country suddenly became wilder and 
 more mountainous in its character ; the road, for a distance 
 of sixty or seventy miles, ran across a series of high wooded 
 ridges, separated one from another by swampy ravines; 
 rain fell almost incessantly ; and it was all that five power- 
 ful horses could do to drag our heavy tdrantds up the steep 
 hills and through the abysses of tenacious semi-liquid clay 
 in the intervening valleys. Even where the road was com- 
 paratively hard, it had been cut into deep ruts and hollows 
 by thousands of ohozes^ or freight wagons; the attempts 
 that had been made here and there to improve it by throw- 
 ing tree-trunks helter-skelter into the sloughs and quagmires 
 had only rendered it worse ; and the swaying, banging, and 
 plunging of the tdrantds were something frightful. An 
 American stage-coach would have gone to pieces on such a 
 road before it had made a single station. In the course of 
 the first night after leaving Achinsk, I was thrown violently 
 against the sides or the roof of our tdrantds at least three 
 or four hundred times. This incessant jolting, added to 
 sleeplessness and fatigue, brought on a racking headache ; 
 I was in a shiver most of the night from cold and lack 
 of nourishing food; and when we reached the station of 
 Ibriilskaya early Wednesday morning, after ha\dng made 
 in twenty hours and with four changes of horses a dis- 
 tance of only fifty miles, I felt as if I had been beaten 
 from head to foot with a club and left for dead. Mr. Frost 
 was sick, and had had three severe chills in the night, and he
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 357 
 
 looked so worn and haggard that I became seriously alarmed 
 about him. He did not wish, however, to stop in the post- 
 station of Ibrulskaya, which was ah'eady full of travelers 
 sleeping on benches or on the floor, and after refreshing 
 ourselves with tea, we pushed on towards Krasnoyarsk. 
 
 I cannot remember, in all Siberia, a worse road for 
 wheeled vehicles than that between Achinsk and Kras- 
 noyarsk. I have never, in fact, seen a worse road in my 
 life, and it was not at all surprising that Mr. Frost was 
 prostrated by the jolting, the consequent sleeplessness, 
 and the lack of substantial food. We had been able to 
 get meat at the post-stations only once in four days ; we 
 had lived almost entirely upon the bread and tea that we 
 carried with us ; and for ninety-six hours we had had only 
 such snatches of sleep as we could get in the tdrantds at 
 intervals on short stretches of smooth road, or on benches 
 in the station-houses while waiting for horses. It was 
 some satisfaction to learn, at Ustanofskaya, that General 
 Ignatief, the newly appointed governor-general of Eastern 
 Siberia, who passed over the road between Achinsk and 
 Krasnoyarsk a few days before us, was so exasperated by 
 its condition that he ordered the immediate arrest of the 
 contractor who had undertaken to keep it in repair, and 
 directed that he be held in prison to await an investigation. 
 Mr. Frost and I agreed that it was a proper case for the 
 exercise of despotic power. 
 
 We arrived in Krasnoyarsk late on the evening of Wed- 
 nesday, September 2d, after a journey from Tomsk of 370 
 miles, which had occupied a little more than five days of 
 incessant travel. An abundant supper and a good night's 
 rest in a small hotel near the post-station restored our tired 
 bodies to something like their normal condition, and Thurs- 
 day afternoon we changed om- travel-stained clothing and 
 called upon Mr. Leo Petrovitch Kuznetsof, a wealthy gold- 
 mining proprietor to whom we had brought a letter of in- 
 troduction from St. Petersburg. We little anticipated the
 
 358 
 
 SIBEEIA 
 
 luxurious comfort of the house and the delightful social 
 ntiuosphero of the home circle to which this letter would 
 admit us. The servant who came to the door in response 
 
 to our ring showed us into one of the most beautiful and 
 tastefully furnished drawing-rooms that we had seen in 
 Russia. It was fully fifty feet in length by thirty-five feet 
 in width and twenty feet high ; its inlaid floor of polished 
 oak was hidden here and there by soft oriental rugs ; palms, 
 luxuriant ferns, and pots of blossoming plants occupied
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 359 
 
 the lower portions of the high, richly curtained windows ; 
 the apparent size of the spacious apartment was increased 
 by long pier-glasses interposed between the masses of 
 greenery and flowers; a cheerful fire of birch wood was 
 burning in an open fireplace under a massive mantel of 
 carved marble ; cabinets of polished cherry, filled with rare 
 old china, delicate ivory carvings, bronze Buddhist idols, 
 and all sorts of bric-a-brac, stood here and there against 
 the walls; large oil-paintings by well-known Russian, 
 French, and English artists occupied places of honor at 
 the ends of the room ; and at our right, as we entered, was 
 a grand piano, flanked by a carved stand piled high with 
 books and music. 
 
 We had hardly had time to recover from the state of 
 astonishment into which we were thrown by the sight of 
 so many unexpected evidences of wealth, culture, and re- 
 finement in this remote East Siberian town when a slender, 
 dark-haired, pale-faced young man in correct afternoon 
 dress entered the drawing-room, introduced himself as 
 Mr. Innokenti Kuznetsof, and welcomed us in good English 
 to Krasnoyarsk. We were soon made acquainted with the 
 whole Kuznetsof family, which consisted of three brothers 
 and two sisters, all unmarried, and all living together in this 
 luxurious house. Mr. Innokenti Kuznetsof and his sisters 
 spoke English fluently ; they had traveled in America, and 
 had spent more or less time in New York, Philadelphia, 
 Washington, Saratoga, Chicago, Salt Lake City, and San 
 Francisco. Mr. Innokenti Kuznetsof's personal acquain- 
 tance with the United States was more extensive, indeed, 
 than my own, inasmuch as he had twice crossed the con- 
 tinent ; had hunted buffalo on our Western prairies ; had 
 met General Sheridan, Buffalo Bill,' Captain Jack, and 
 other frontier notables, and had even visited regions as 
 remote as Yellowstone Park and the "Staked Plains." 
 
 How pleasant it was, after months of rough life in dirty 
 post-stations or vermin-infested hotels, to come suddenly
 
 360 SIBERIA 
 
 into such a house as that of the Kuznetsofs ; to find our- 
 selves surrounded by flowers, books, pictures, and innumer- 
 able other evidences of cultured taste; to hear good music; 
 to talk with intelligent men and women who did not tell us 
 harrowing stories of imprisonment and exile — all this the 
 
 MONASTERY NEAK KRASNOYAKSK. 
 
 reader can hardly imagine. We dined with the Kuznetsofs 
 every day that we spent in Krasnoyarsk, and met at their 
 table some very attractive and cultivated people. Among 
 the latter I remember particularly Mr. Ivan Savenkof, the 
 director of the Krasnoyarsk normal school, who had just 
 returned from an archaeological excursion up the Yenisei, 
 and who showed us some very interesting tracings and 
 water-color copies of the prehistoric sketches and inscrip- 
 tions that abound on the " pictured rocks " along that river. 
 Mr. Innokenti Kuznetsof shared Mr. Savenkof s interest in 
 archaeology, and both gentlemen had valuable collections 
 of objects dating from the stone or the bronze age that had 
 been taken from Jcurgdns or tumuli in various parts of the 
 province. 
 
 Thursday evening, after dinner, we all drove up the left 
 bank of the river to an old monastery about six versts from 
 the city, where the people of Krasnoyarsk are accustomed 
 to go in summer for picnics. The road, which was a note- 
 worthy triumph of monastic engineering, had been cut out
 
 THE GKEAT SIBERIAN ROAD 
 
 361 
 
 in the steep cliffs that border the Yenisei, or had been car- 
 ried on trestle-work along the faces of these cliffs high 
 above the water, and at every salient angle it commanded 
 a beautiful view of the majestic river, which, at this point, 
 attains a width of more than a mile and glides swiftly past, 
 between blue picturesque mountains, on its way from the 
 wild fastnesses of Mongolia to the barren coast of the arctic 
 ocean. 
 
 Our friends in Krasnoyarsk tempted us to remain there 
 a week or two with promises of all sorts of delightful ex- 
 cursions, but at that late season of the year we could not 
 spare the time. It required not a little resolution to turn 
 our backs on picnic parties and boating parties, on archae- 
 ological excursions up the Yenisei, on such congenial 
 society as we found in the hospitable homes of Mr. 
 Savenkof and the Kuznetsofs, and to face again the old 
 miseries of jolting, sleeplessness, cold, hunger, and fatigue 
 
 KOAD TO MONASTERY. 
 
 on the road ; but it was important that we should reach the 
 mines of the Trans-Baikal before winter set in, and we had 
 yet 1200 miles to go. 
 
 Saturday afternoon, September 5th, we reluctantly ordered 
 post-horses; provided ourselves with a fresh supply of 
 bread, tea, and copper money; repacked our baggage in
 
 362 SIBERIA 
 
 tlio old, battered, imid-splashed tdrantds^ wliieh we were 
 be^-imiing to dread as a oiice-tortui-ed criminal dreads the 
 rack ; and crossing the Yenisei on a pendulum ferry-boat, 
 resumed our journey to Irkutsk. The weather was once 
 more pleasant and sunshiny, but the changing colors of the 
 dying leaves showed that fall was at hand. Many of the 
 poplars had already turned a deep brilliant red, and nearly 
 half of the birches were solid masses of canary yellow, 
 which, when seen against the dark background of the somber 
 evergreens, suggested foliage in a state of incandescence. 
 The vast fields of wheat in the valley of the Yenisei and on 
 the lower slopes of the hills in the neighborhood of Kras- 
 noyarsk were apparently dead ripe, and hundreds of men 
 and women with horse-hair mosquito-protectors over their 
 heads were reaping the grain with sickles, binding it into 
 sheaves, and stacking the sheaves by fives in long rows. 
 
 We traveled without rest Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, 
 but on Wednesday morning, at the station of Kamishets- 
 kaya, about 350 miles from Irkutsk, we were forced to stop 
 in order to have repairs made to our tdrantds. We found 
 the village blacksmith in a little shop near the post-station, 
 where, with the aid of his daughter, a robust young woman 
 eighteen or twenty years of age, he was engaged in shoeing 
 a horse. One might infer, from the elaborate precautions 
 taken to prevent the animal from injuring himself or any- 
 body else while being shod, that Siberian horses were more 
 than usually fractious, or Siberian blacksmiths more than 
 usually careless in driving nails. The poor beast had been 
 hoisted into the air by means of two broad belly-bands, and 
 suspended from a stout frame so that he could not touch 
 the gi'ound ; three of his legs had then been lashed to an 
 equal number of posts so that he could neither kick nor 
 struggle, and the daring blacksmith was fearlessly putting 
 a shoe on the only hoof that the wretched and humiliated 
 animal could move. We learned, upon inquiry, that Si- 
 berian horses are always shod in this way, and we concluded
 
 THE GEEAT SIBEKIAN ROAD 
 
 363 
 
 that Siberian blacksmiths must be regarded by accident 
 
 insurance companies as extra-safe and very desirable risks. 
 
 While we were waiting for the repairs to our tdrantds we 
 
 were overtaken by the Moscow post. The Russian mails 
 
 are carried in Siberia in leathern bags or pouches as with us, 
 and are forwarded in teUfias under guard of an armed pos- 
 tilion, changing horses and vehicles at every station. There
 
 364 SIBERIA 
 
 is uo limit, so far as I know, to the weight or size of 
 packages that may be sent by post, — I myself mailed 
 a box weighing forty pounds, — and the mails are con- 
 sequently very bulky and heavy, filling sometimes a dozen 
 tehyas. Irkutsk, the capital of Eastern Siberia, has a mail 
 from Moscow every day and returns it three times a week ; 
 and as the imperial post takes precedence over private trav- 
 elers, the latter are often forced to wait for hours at post- 
 stations because the last horses have been taken by the 
 Government postilion. Such was our fate at Kamishets- 
 kaya. The repairs to our tdrantds were soon made, but in 
 the mean time we had been overtaken by the post, and we 
 were obliged to wait for horses until two o'clock in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 From Kamishetskaya to Irkutsk we traveled night and 
 day, stopping only now and then to inspect an etape, or 
 to watch the progress of an exile party, as, with a dis- 
 mal clinking of chains, it made its way slowly along the 
 road, in a pouring rain, towards the distant mines of the 
 Trans-Baikal. 
 
 This ride from Tomsk to Irkutsk was in some respects a 
 harder and more exhausting journey than that from Tiu- 
 men to the mountains of the Altai. Long-continued rain 
 had spoiled the road and rendered it in places almost im- 
 passable. The jolting of our heavy tdrantds through deep 
 ruts and over occasional stretches of imperfect corduroy gave 
 us \iolent headaches and prevented us from getting any 
 restful sleep ; warm, nourishing food was rarely to be ob- 
 tained at the post-stations ; we had not yet provided our- 
 selves with winter clothing, and suffered more or less every 
 night from cold ; and finally, we were tormented constantly 
 by predatory insects from the roadside prisons and Stapes. 
 No single hardship connected with our investigation of the 
 exile system was more trying to me than the utter impos- 
 sibility of escaping from parasitic vermin. Cold, hunger, 
 sleeplessness, and fatigue I could bear with reasonable
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 
 
 365 
 
 patience and fortitude ; but to be forced to live for weeks 
 at a time in clothing infested with fleas, lice, or bedbugs 
 from the unclean bodies of common criminal convicts not 
 only seemed to me intolerable in itself, but gave me a hu- 
 
 it 
 
 ;^M 
 
 THE DEPARTURE OF THE MAIL. 
 
 miliating sense of physical defilement that was almost as 
 bad as a consciousness of moral degradation. We tried in 
 every possible way to rid ourselves of these parasitic prison 
 insects, but without success. The older and more neglected 
 Stapes along the road were swarming with vermin of all 
 sorts, and whenever we examined one of these places we 
 came away from it with a small but varied entomological 
 collection in our clothing. The insects soon secured lodg-
 
 :U>G SIBEKIA 
 
 lueiit in our blankets and pillows as well as in the crevices 
 iiud lining of onr tdnmtds, and then it was impossible either 
 to exterminate or to escape them. After throwing away suc- 
 cessively two or three suits of underclothing, I abandoned all 
 liope of relief and reconciled myself to the inevitable as best 
 I could. There were insects on my body or in my clothing 
 during the greater part of four months, and when I was 
 able to undress for the first time after our nine-days' jour- 
 ney from Krasnoyarsk to Irkutsk, I found myself spotted 
 and blotched from head to foot as if I were suffering from 
 some foul eruptive disease. It is not pleasant, of course, 
 to go into these details, but I wish the reader to understand 
 clearly and definitely what life in an etajic is, and what Si- 
 berian exile means to a cultivated human being.^ 
 
 I do not know that it is possible to get rid entirely of ob- 
 noxious insects in old and sometimes half-decayed build- 
 ings through wdiich pass every year thousands of criminals 
 from the lowest social classes. It is possible, however, to 
 keep the eta])es decently clean and to provide the exiles, 
 both in the forwarding prisons and on the road, with proper 
 facilities for bathing and for changing and washing their 
 clothing. How far these things are done now I shall try to 
 show in the next chapter. 
 
 As we approached the East-Siberian capital, towards the 
 end of the second week in September, the weather finally 
 cleared up, and upon the southeastern horizon, far away 
 in the distance, we caught sight of the blue, ethereal, snow- 
 crowned peaks of Tunka, situated on the frontier of Mon- 
 golia near the southern end of Lake Baikal. They were 
 
 1 A common method of gambling trie circles on one of the sleeping- 
 among criminal convicts in Siberian platforms, put a number of lice simul- 
 etapes is to spread down an overcoat or taneously within the inner circle, and 
 a dirty linen foot-wrapper on the floor then give all the money that has been 
 of the kdmera, and guess at the num- wagered on the event to the convict 
 ber of fleas that will jump upon it whose louse first crawls across the line 
 within a certain length of time. Every of the outer circle. Exiles on the road 
 convict, of course, backs his guess with are not supposed to have playing-cards, 
 a wager. Another method, equally but facilities for gambling in the man- 
 common, is to draw two small concen- ner above described are never lacking.
 
 THE GREAT SIBERIAN ROAD 367 
 
 evidence that Irkutsk was near. When the morning of 
 Sunday, September 13th, dawned cool and bright we found 
 ourselves riding over a good road, along the swift but tran- 
 quil current of the river Angara, and through a country 
 the extensive cultivation and prosperous appearance of 
 which indicated its proximity to a market. About two 
 o'clock in the afternoon we stopped to change horses at the 
 last post-station, and with inspiriting anticipations of rest, 
 sleep, clean linen, and letters from home we entered the 
 travelers' waiting-room and read, in the official distance- 
 table hanging against the wall, the significant words and 
 
 figures : 
 
 POST-STATION OF BOKOFSKAYA. 
 
 DISTANT 
 
 From St. Petersburg 5601 versts. 
 
 From Irkutsk 13 versts. 
 
 You may subtract thirteen from 5601, or divide 5601 by 
 thirteen, or put the two numbers through any other mathe- 
 matical process that you choose, but you will never fully 
 appreciate the difference between them until you have trav- 
 eled 5601 versts in the Russian Empire and have only thir- 
 teen versts more to go. 
 
 As soon as fresh horses could be harnessed we dashed 
 away up the Angara towards Irkutsk, looking eagerly for- 
 ward to catch the first possible glimpse of its gilded domes 
 and its snowy cathedral walls. I had not seen the city in 
 eighteen years, and meanwhile it had been almost entirely 
 destroyed by fire, and had been rebuilt. I feared, there- 
 fore, that it would not present so beautiful and striking 
 an appearance as it did when I saw it first, in the winter 
 of 1867. About five versts from the city we passed the 
 picturesque white-walled monastery of Vosnesensk, with 
 a throng of dirty, ragged, long-haired pilgrims gathered 
 about its principal entrance, and beyond it we began to 
 meet unarmed soldiers, peasants, peddlers, tramps, and 
 nondescript vagabonds of all sorts who had been spending
 
 368 SIBERIA 
 
 tlie Sabbath-day in the city and were straggUng back on 
 foot to their respective places of abode in the suburban 
 \4nages. Nearly half of them were more or less intoxi- 
 cated, and the number of open JiahdJis, or drinking-places, 
 that we saw by the road seemed fully adequate to explain 
 if not to excuse their condition 
 
 We crossed the swift current of the Angara by means of 
 a "swing," or pendulum, ferry, and di'ove up from the 
 landing into the streets of the city. I was somewhat dis- 
 appointed in its appearance. Its gilded or colored domes, 
 white belfries, and scattered masses of foliage, when seen 
 from the opposite side of the river, give to it a certain half- 
 oriental pictui'esqueness ; but to an observer in its streets 
 it presents itself as a large, busy, thriving, but irregularly 
 built and unattractive Russian provincial town. After un- 
 successfully seeking shelter in the new and pretentious 
 Moscow House and in the Siberian Hotel, we finally went 
 to the Hotel Deko, where, as we were informed. Lieuten- 
 ants Harber and Schuetze stayed when they passed through 
 the city in 1882 on their way to the Lena Delta. An elderly 
 and rather talkative servant who brought our luggage to 
 our room introduced himself by saying that he always used 
 to wait on Mr. Harber and Mr. Schuetze, and that the for- 
 mer loved him so that he called him "Zhan" (John). He 
 seemed to think that "Zhan" was an American nickname 
 expressive of the teuderest and most affectionate regard, 
 and that he needed no other recommendation than this to 
 an American traveler. I told him that if he would take care 
 of us properly we also would call him " Zhan," at which he 
 seemed very much gratified. From the frequency and the 
 pride with which he afterwards referred to this caressing 
 nickname, I feel confident that when he comes to die, and 
 a tombstone is placed over his mortal remains, no possible 
 enumeration thereon of his many virtues will give to his 
 freed spirit half so much pleasure as the simple epitaph, 
 
 THE AMERICANS CALLED HIM "ZHAN."
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 DEPOETATION BY ETAPE 
 
 IN Tomsk, and during onr journey from that city to 
 Irkutsk, we had for the first time a satisfactory oppor- 
 tunity to study the life of Siberian exiles on the road. 
 Marching parties of convicts three or four hundred strong 
 leave Tomsk for Irkutsk weekly throughout the whole year, 
 and make the journey of 1040 miles in about three months. 
 EtapeSj or exile station-houses, stand along the road at in- 
 tervals of from twenty-five to forty miles; and at every 
 €taj)e there is a "convoy command" consisting of a com- 
 missioned officer known as the " nachdlnik of the convoy," 
 two or three under-officers, and about forty soldiers. As 
 the distance from one eta2)e to another is too great to be 
 walked in a single day by prisoners in leg-fetters, buildings 
 known as pohi-etapes, or " half-etapes," have been con- 
 structed midway between the true etapes for the shelter 
 of the convicts at night. These half-way houses are gen- 
 erally smaller than the regular etapes^ as well as somewhat 
 different from the latter in architectural plan, and they have 
 no " convoy commands." Marching parties are expected to 
 make about 500 versts, or 330 miles, a month, with twenty- 
 four hours of rest every third day. If a party leaves Tomsk 
 Monday morning, it reaches a polu-etape Monday night, 
 arrives at the first regular etape Tuesday night, and rests in 
 the latter all day Wednesday. Thursday morning it re- 
 sumes its journey with another convoy, Thursday night it 
 24 ^»
 
 370 SIBEIUA 
 
 spends in the second poJx-f'fajx', Friday night it reaches the 
 second reguUir cta})^', 'ind Saturday it again rests and changes 
 convoy. In this way the party proceeds slowly for months, 
 resting one dtiy out of every three, and changing convoys 
 at every other station. Each prisoner receives five cents a 
 day in money for his subsistence, and buys food for him- 
 self from peasants along the road who make a business of 
 furnisliing it. The dress of the exiles in summer consists 
 of a shirt and a pair of trousers of coarse gray linen ; square 
 foot-wrappers of the same material in lieu of stockings ; low 
 shoes or slippers called kafi ; leather ankle-guards to pre- 
 vent the leg-fetters from chafing; a visorless Glengarry 
 cap ; and a long gray overcoat. The dress of female con- 
 victs is the same, except that a petticoat takes the place of 
 the trousers. Women and children who voluntarily accom- 
 pany relatives to Siberia are permitted to wear their own 
 clothing, and to carry severally as much baggage as can be 
 put into a two-bushel bag. No distinction is made between 
 common convicts and political convicts, except that the lat- 
 ter, if they are nobles" or belong to one of the privileged 
 classes, receive seven and a half cents a day for their sub- 
 sistence instead of five, and are carried in telegas instead of 
 being forced to walk.' 
 
 Up to the year 1883 there was no separation of the sexes 
 in marching parties; but since that time an attempt has 
 been made to forward unmarried male prisoners apart from 
 "family parties," and to include in the latter all children 
 and unmarried women. This reform has lessened some- 
 what the demoralization resulting from the promiscuous 
 association of men, women, and children for months in 
 overcrowded etapes ; but the state of affairs is still very 
 
 1 At one time politicals were sent to inconvenience and expense, and all 
 
 Siberia separately in post vehicles un- politicals are now forwarded with 
 
 der guard of gendarmes, and were car- common criminal parties. The re- 
 
 ried to their destinations almost as suit of the change is to prolong by 
 
 quickly as if they had been private many months the miseries of etape 
 
 travelers. That practice, however, life, and to increase enormously the 
 
 has been abandoned on account of its chances of sickness and death.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 371 
 
 bad, since even "family parties" contain large numbers 
 of depraved men and boys. 
 
 Three or four days before we left Tomsk for Irkutsk, 
 Mr. Frost and I, by invitation of Captain Gudim, the 
 naclidlnik of the Tomsk convoy command, drove to the 
 forwarding prison at 7 a. m. to see the departure of a 
 marching party. The morning was cool, but a clear sky 
 gave i^romise of a warm, sunshiny day. As we drew 
 up before the prison we saw that the party had not yet 
 made its appearance ; and, presuming that Captain Grudim 
 was busy, we did not send for him, but sat in our droshhj 
 watching the scenes at the gate. On each side of the 
 lead-colored portal was a long wooden bench, upon which 
 half-a-dozen soldiers, in dark green uniforms, were sitting 
 in lazy attitudes, waiting for the party to come out, and 
 amusing themselves meanwhile by exchanging coarse wit- 
 ticisms with three or foui' female provision-venders, squat- 
 ted near them on the ground. An occasional high-pitched 
 jingle of chains could be heard from within the inclosure, 
 and now and then half of the double gate was thrown open 
 to admit a couple of fettered convicts carrying water in a 
 large wooden bucket slung between them on a shoulder- 
 pole. Every person who entered the prison yard was hastily 
 searched from head to foot by one of the two sentries at 
 the gate, in order to prevent the smuggling in of prohibited 
 articles, and especially of vodka. 
 
 About eight o'clock telegas for the transportation of the 
 weak and infirm began to gather in the street in front of the 
 prison ; a shabby under-officer who had been lounging with 
 the soldiers on one of the benches rose, yawned, and went 
 discontentedly into the prison courtyard ; the soldiers put 
 on their blanket-rolls and picked up their Berdan rifles; 
 and a louder and more continuous jingling of chains from 
 the other side of the palisade announced that the convict 
 party was assembling. At last the prison blacksmith came 
 out, bringing a small portable forge, a lap anvil, a hammer
 
 372 SIBERIA 
 
 ov two, and an annful of chains and log-fetters, which he 
 threw carelessly on the ground beside him; the soldiers 
 shouldered their guns and took positions in a semicircle so 
 as to form a cordon ; an under-ofificer with the muster-roll 
 of the party in his hand and another with a leather bag of 
 copper coins slung over his shoulder stationed themselves 
 near the gate ; and at the word " Gatova ! " [Eeady !] the 
 convicts, in single file, began to make their appearance. 
 The officer with the muster-roll checked off the prisoners 
 as they answered to their names ; the blacksmith, with the 
 aid of a soldier, examined their leg-fetters to see that the 
 rivets were fast and that the bands could not be slipped 
 over the heel ; and, finally, the second under-officer gave to 
 every man ten cents in copper coin for two days' sub- 
 sistence between etajjes. When all of the kdtor^Jmiki, or 
 hard-labor convicts, had come out of the prison yard, they 
 arranged themselves in two parallel lines so that they could 
 be conveniently counted, and removed their caps so that 
 the under-officer could see that their heads had been half 
 shaved as required by law. They were then dismissed, and 
 the 2>oselentsi, or penal colonists, went through the same 
 routine— the soldiers of the convoy stepping backward 
 and extending the limits of their cordon as the number of 
 prisoners outside the palisade gradually increased. 
 
 At length the whole party, numbering 350 or 400, was 
 assembled in the street. Every prisoner had a gray linen 
 bag in which were stored his scanty personal effects ; many 
 of them were provided with copper kettles which dangled 
 from the leather belts that supported their leg- fetter chains; 
 and one convict was carrying to the mines in his arms a 
 small brown dog. 
 
 When the whole party had again been counted, and while 
 the gray bags were being put into telegas, I availed myself 
 of what seemed to be a favorable opportunity to talk with 
 the prisoners. In a moment, to my great surprise, I was 
 addressed by one of them in good English.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 373 
 
 " Who are you ! " I inquired in astonishment. 
 
 " I am a vagabond," he said quietly and seriously. 
 
 " What is your name '! " 
 
 " Ivan Dontremember," he replied ; and then glancing 
 around, and seeing that none of the convoy officers were 
 near, he added in a low tone, " My real name is John 
 Anderson, and I am from Riga." 
 
 " How do you happen to know English ? " I asked. 
 
 " I am of English descent ; and, besides that, I was once 
 a sailor, and have been in English ports." 
 
 At this point the approach of Captain Gudfm put a stop 
 to our colloquy. The number of " brodi/dgs,''^ or vagabonds, 
 in this party was very large, and nearly all of them were 
 runaway convicts of the "Dontremember" family, who had 
 been recaptured in Western Siberia, or had surrendered 
 themselves during the previous winter in order to escape 
 starvation. 
 
 "I have no doubt," said Captain Gudim to me, "that 
 there are hrodydgs in this very party who have escaped 
 and been sent back to the mines half a dozen times." 
 
 " Boys!" he shouted suddenly, "how many of you are now 
 going to the mines for the sixth time?" 
 
 " Mnogo yest " [There are lots of them], replied several 
 voices; and finally one gray-bearded convict in leg-fetters 
 came forward and admitted that he had made four escapes 
 from the mines, and that he was going into penal servitude 
 for the fifth time. In other words, this man had traversed 
 eight times on foot the distance of nearly 2000 miles 
 between Tomsk and the mines of Kara. 
 
 "I know hrodydfjs^^ said Captain Gudim, "who have 
 been over this road sixteen times in leg-fetters, and who 
 have come back sixteen times across the steppes and 
 through the woods. God only knows how they live 
 through it ! " 
 
 When one considers that crossing Eastern Siberia thirty- 
 two times on foot is about equivalent to walking twice the
 
 374 SIBEKIA 
 
 ci roil inference of the globe at the equator, one can appre- 
 ciate the indomitable resolution of these men, and the 
 strc!iii-th of the intiuence that draws them towards home 
 and freedom. In the j'ear 1884:, 13C0 such byoiJijdgs were 
 recaptured in Western Siberia and sent back to the mines 
 of the Trans-Baikal, and hundreds more perished from cold 
 and starvation in the forests. M. I. Orfanof, a Russian 
 officer who served many years in Eastern Siberia, says 
 that he once found 200 "Ivan Dontremembers " in a 
 single prison — the prison of Kaidalova, between Chita 
 and Nerchinsk.' 
 
 Some of the hrodydgs with whom I talked were men of 
 intelligence and education. One of them, who was greatly 
 interested in our photographic apparatus, and who seemed 
 to know all about " dry plates," " drop shutters," and " Dall- 
 meyer lenses," asked me how convicts were treated in the 
 United States, and whether they could, by extra work, 
 earn a little money, so as not to leave prison penniless. 
 I replied that in most American penitentiaries they could. 
 
 " It is not so," he said, " with us. Naked we go to the 
 mines, and naked we come out of them ; and we are flogged, 
 while there, at the whim of every nariddchik.''^ " 
 
 "Oh, no!" said Captain Gudim good-naturedly, "they 
 don't flog at the mines now." 
 
 " Yes, they do, your Nobility," replied the hrodydg firmly 
 but respectfully. "If you are sick or weak, and can't 
 finish your stent, you are given twenty blows with the 
 cat." 
 
 I should have been glad to get further information from 
 the hrodydg with regard to his life at the mines, but just at 
 this moment Captain Gudim asked me if I would not like 
 to see the loading of the sick and infirm, and the conver- 
 sation was interrupted. 
 
 1 " V ' Dali " (Afar), by M. I. OrMnof, p. 226. St. Petersburg, 1883. 
 
 2 A petty officer who directs the work of the convicts in the razreis or cutting, 
 and who sets their tasks.
 
 DEPOETATION BY ETAPE 
 
 375 
 
 SICK AND INFIKM EXILES IN TELISGAS.
 
 37G SIBEllIA 
 
 The tcUgas intended for prisoners physically unable to 
 walk were small one-horse carts, without springs of any 
 kind, and with only one seat, in front, for the driver and 
 the guard. They looked to me like the halves of longi- 
 tudinally bisected hogsheads mounted upon four low 
 wheels, with their concave sides uppermost. More wretch- 
 edly uncomfortable vehicles to ride in were never devised. 
 A smaU quantity of green grass had been put into each one 
 to break the jolting a little, and upon this grass, in every 
 cart, were to sit four sick or disabled convicts. 
 
 "All prisoners who have certificates from the doctor, 
 step out!" shouted Captain G-udim, and twenty-five or 
 thirty " incapables " — some old and infirm, some pale and 
 emaciated from sickness — separated themselves from the 
 main body of convicts in the road. An under-officer col- 
 lected and examined their certificates, and as fast as their 
 cases were approved they climbed into the telegas. One 
 man, although apparently sick, was evidently a malingerer,, 
 since, as he took his place in a partly filled telega, he was 
 greeted with a storm of groans and hoots from the whole- 
 convict party.^ 
 
 The number of prisoners who, when they leave Tomsk,, 
 are unable to walk is sometimes very large. In the year 
 1884, 658 telegas were loaded there with exiles of this class, 
 and if every telega held four persons the aggregate num- 
 ber of "incapables" must have exceeded 2500.^ Such a 
 state of things, of course, is the natural result of the 
 overcrowding of the Tomsk forwarding prison. 
 
 When the sick and infirm had all taken the places 
 assigned them in the invalid carts, Captain Gudim took 
 off his cap, crossed himself and bowed in the direction 
 
 1 Some convicts are extremely skil- by applying irritating decoctions to a 
 
 ful in counterfeiting the symptoms of slight self-inflicted wound, and they 
 
 disease, and will now and then succeed even poison themselves with tobacco 
 
 in deceiving even an experienced prison and other noxious herbs, 
 
 surgeon. If necessary for the aecom- 2 Report of the Inspector of Exila 
 
 plishment of their purpose, they do not Transportation for 1884, p. 31 of the 
 
 hesitate to create artificial swellings MS.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 
 
 377 
 
 A CONVICT I'AKXr TASSINCi A 8I1KINK NKAK TOiMSK.
 
 378 SIBERIA 
 
 of the prison oliurcli, and then, turning to the convicts, 
 cried, "Well, boys ! Go ahead ! A safe journey to you ! " 
 
 "Party — to the right! Party — march!" shouted one 
 of the under-officers, and with a clinking of chains which 
 sounded like the jingling of innumerable bunches of keys 
 the gray throng, hemmed in by a cordon of soldiers, began 
 its long journey of 1800 miles to the mines of the Trans- 
 Baikal. The marching convicts, who took the lead, were 
 closely followed by the telegas with the sick and the infirm ; 
 next came three or four carts loaded with gray linen bags ; 
 and, finally, in a tdrdntas behind the rear guard of soldiers 
 rode Captain Grudim, the naclidlnik of the convoy. The 
 column moved at the rate of about two miles an hour ; and 
 long before noon it was enveloped in a suffocating cloud of 
 dust raised by the shuffling, fetter-incumbered feet of the 
 prisoners. In warm, dry weather, when there is no wind, 
 dust is a source of great misery to marching parties — par- 
 ticularly to the sick, the women, and the children. There 
 is no possible way of escaping it, and when a prisoner is 
 suffering from one of the diseases of the respiratory organs 
 that are so common in etajoe life it is simply torture to sit 
 in a cramped position for six or eight hours in an open 
 telega, breathing the dust raised by the feet of 350 men 
 marching in close column just ahead. I have traced the 
 progress of an invisible exile party more than a mile away 
 by the cloud of dust that hung over it in the air. 
 
 Five or six miles from Tomsk the party passed a chasov- 
 naga, or roadside shrine, consisting of an open pavilion, in 
 which hung a ghastly wooden effigy of the crucified Christ. 
 Here, as upon our departure from Tomsk, I noticed that 
 two-thirds of the convicts removed their caps, crossed them- 
 selves devoutly, and muttered brief supplications, A Eus- 
 sian peasant may be a highway robber or a murderer, but he 
 continues, nevertheless, to cross himself and say his prayers. 
 
 The first halt of the party for rest was made about ten 
 miles from Tomsk, at the entrance to a small village. Here,
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 
 
 379 
 
 HALT OF A CONVUrr l-AHXY FoK l.UNCH.
 
 oSO SIBERIA 
 
 on a patoh of greensward by the roadside, had assembled 
 ten or twelve girls and old women with baskets of pro- 
 visions, bottles of milk, and jugs of kvas, or small beer, for 
 sale to the prisoners. At first sight of these preparations for 
 their refreshment, the experienced brodijdf/s, who marched 
 at the head of the column, raised a joyous shout of Privdl! 
 Prirdlf — the exiles' name for the noonday halt. The wel- 
 come cry was passed along the line until it reached the last 
 wagon of " incapables," and the whole party perceptibly 
 quickened its pace. A walk of ten miles does not much 
 tire a healthy and unincumbered man ; but to convicts who 
 have been in prison without exercise for months, and who 
 are hampered by five-pound leg-fetters united by chains 
 that clash constantly between the legs, it is a trying exper- 
 ience. In less than a minute after the command to halt 
 was given, almost every man in the party was either sitting 
 on the ground or lying upon it at full length. After a short 
 rest, the prisoners began buying food from the provision 
 venders, in the shape of black rye-bread, fish-pies, hard- 
 boiled eggs, milk, and kms, and in half an hour they were 
 all sitting on the ground, singly or in groups, eating their 
 lunch. With the permission of Captain Gudlm, Mr. Frost 
 took a photograph of them, which is here reproduced, and 
 about two o'clock the party resumed its journey. 
 
 The afternoon march was without noteworthy incident. 
 The hrodyd(js talked constantly as they walked, raising 
 their voices so as to make themselves heard above the jing- 
 ling of the chains, while the novices generally listened or 
 asked questions. There is the same difference between a 
 hrodydg who has been to the mines half a dozen times and 
 a novice who is going for the first time, that there is be- 
 tween an experienced cowboy and a " tenderfoot." The 
 hrodydg knows the road as the tongue knows the mouth ; 
 he has an experimental acquaintance with the temper and 
 character of every convoy officer from Tomsk to Kara ; and 
 his perilous adventures in the taigd — the primeval Siberian
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 
 
 381 
 
 bkodyAgs" ou kunaway convicts.
 
 382 SIBERIA 
 
 forest linve given to him a self-confidence and a decision 
 
 of character that make him the natural leader in every con- 
 vict party. It is the boast of the true hrochjag that the 
 ostr6() [the prison] is his father and the ta'ifid [the wilderness] 
 his mother ; and he often spends his whole life in going 
 from one parent to the other. He rarely escapes from Si- 
 beria altogether, although he may reach half a dozen times 
 the valley of the Ob. Sooner or later he is almost always 
 recaptured, or is forced by cold and starvation to give him- 
 self up. As an etape officer once said to a hrodydg rear- 
 rested in Western Siberia, "The Tsar's cow-pasture is large, 
 but you can't get out of it ; we find you at last if you are 
 not dead." 
 
 The conversation of the hrodydgs in the party that we 
 accompanied related chiefly to their own exploits and ad- 
 ventures at the mines and in the taiga, and it did not seem 
 to be restrained in the least by the presence of the soldiers 
 of the convoy. 
 
 The distance from Tomsk to the first polu-etape is twenty- 
 nine versts (nearly twenty miles), and it was almost dark 
 before the tired prisoners caught sight of the serrated pali- 
 sade within which they were to spend their first night on 
 the road. 
 
 A ^ihQYiMi polu-etap)e, or half-way station, is a stockaded 
 inelosure about 100 feet long by 50 or 75 feet wide, contain- 
 ing two or three lowj one-story log buildings. One of these 
 buildings is occupied by the convoy officer, another by the 
 soldiers, and the third and largest by the convicts. The 
 prisoners' Jcamnn, which is generally painted a dirty yellow,^ 
 is long and low, and contains three or four kdmeras, each of 
 which is provided with a brick oven and a double row of 
 plank ndri, or sleeping-platforms. According to the last 
 ofiicial report of the inspector of exile transportation, which 
 is confirmed by my own observation, " all of the etajjes and 
 p)olu-etapes on the road between Tomsk and Achinsk — with 
 
 1 Yellow is the etape color throughout Siberia.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 
 
 383 
 
 a very few exceptions — are not only too small, but are old 
 and decayed, and demand capital repairs." Their principal 
 defect is that which is characteristic of Siberian prisons 
 generally; namely, lack of adequate room. They were 
 
 1 iJl 
 
 A loLU-ETAl'li 0>i TUli iOMt'K-ACHINSK KOAD. 
 
 built from thirty to fifty years ago, when exile parties 
 did not number more than 150 men, and they now have to 
 accommodate from 350 to 450. The result, as stated by 
 the inspector of exile transportation, is that " in pleasant 
 weather half the prisoners sleep on the ground in the court- 
 yard, while in bad weather they fill all the kdmeras, lie on 
 the floors in the corridors, and even pack the garrets." 
 The cells are not even as habitable as they might be 
 made with a little care and attention. They are almost 
 always dirty ; their windows are so made that they can- 
 not be opened ; and notwithstanding the fact that the over- 
 crowding, at certain seasons of the year, is almx)st beyond
 
 384 SIBERIA 
 
 belief; no provision whatever has been made in them for 
 ventihition. 
 
 When our convicts, after their toilsome march of twenty- 
 nine versts from Tomsk, reached at last the red-roofed 
 jwhi-ctape of Semiluzhnaya, they were marshaled in rows 
 in front of the palisade and again carefully counted by the 
 under-oflacers in order to make sure that none had escaped, 
 and then the wooden gate of the courtyard was thrown 
 wide open. With a wdld, mad rush and a furious clash- 
 ing of chains, more than three hundred men made a sud- 
 den break for the narrow gateway, struggled, fought, and 
 crowded through it, and then burst into the kdmeras, in 
 order to secure, by preoccupation, places on the sleeping- 
 platforms. Every man knew that if he did not succeed in 
 preempting a section of the ndri he would have to lie on 
 the dirty floor, in one of the cold corridors, or out-of-doors ; 
 and many prisoners who did not care particularly where 
 they slept sought to secure good places in order to sell them 
 afterward for a few ko2)eks to less fortunate but more fas- 
 tidious comrades. 
 
 At last the tumult subsided, and the convicts began their 
 preparations for supper. Hot water was furnished by the 
 soldiers of the convoy at an average price of about a cent 
 a teakettleful ; " brick" tea was made by the prisoners who 
 were wealthy enough to afford such a luxury;" soup was 
 obtained by a few from the soldiers' kitchen ; and the tired 
 exiles, sitting on the sleeping-platforms or on the floor, ate 
 
 1 The well-known Eussian author less than 500, and sometimes held 
 
 Maximof cites a ease in which 512 more than 800. ("Afar," by M. I. 
 
 human beings were packed into one Orfanof, p. 220. St. Petersburg, 1883.) 
 
 of these etajies in Western Siberia 2 Brick tea is made of a cheap grade 
 
 (" Siberia and Penal Servitude," by of tea-leaves, mixed with stems and a 
 
 S. Maximof, Vol. I, p. 81. St. Peters- little adhesive gum, and pressed into 
 
 burg, 1871) ; and Mr. M. I. Orfanof, a hard dry cakes about eight inches in 
 
 Russian officer who served ten years length, five inches in width, and an 
 
 in Siberia, reports that an East-Si- inch and a half in thickness. It re- 
 
 berian etape (at V^rkhni IJdinsk), sembles in appearance and consis- 
 
 which was intended for 140 prisoners, tency the blackest kind of "plug" 
 
 never contained, when he visited it, tobacco.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 
 
 385 
 
 the black bread, the fish-pies, or the cold boiled meat that 
 they had pui'chased from the provision venders. The even- 
 ing meal is sometimes an exceedingly scanty one, on account 
 
 of the failure of the peasant women to bring to the etape 
 for sale an adequate supply of food. They are not obliged 
 to furnish subsistence to convicts on the road, and the exile 
 administration attempts no regulation of the commissariat 
 25
 
 38G SIBERIA 
 
 beyond furnishing the prisoners with money for rations, 
 and allowing the peasants or the soldiers of the convoy to 
 act as purveyors. In times of scarcity it is impossible to 
 bny, with the money given to each exile for his subsistence, 
 enough food to satisfy hunger. In one district of Eastern 
 Siberia, where there had been a partial failure of the crops, 
 the exiles could scarcely buy, with five cents a day, a pound 
 and a half of black rye bread. The etape officers complained 
 bitterly to me of the indifference of the Government to the 
 sufferings of the prisoners, and declared that it was unjust 
 and cruel to give men only a pound and a half of black 
 bread, and at the same time force them to march twenty 
 miles a day in leg-fetters, and in bitterly cold weather.^ 
 
 After supper the roll of the party was called in the 
 courtyard ; a sentrj^ was stationed at each corner of the 
 quadrangular stockade, and another at the gate ; a cheap 
 tallow-candle was lighted in each hdmera; pardshas, or 
 large uncovered wooden tubs for excrement, were placed 
 in the cells and corridors ; and the prisoners were locked up 
 for the night. More than half the party lay on the dirty 
 floors without blankets or pillows, and the atmosphere of 
 the rooms in the course of the night became foul and 
 polluted to an extent that can be imagined only by one 
 who has been present at the opening of the doors in the 
 morning. How human beings, under such conditions, 
 live to reach the mines of Kara, I do not know. It was my 
 intention to ask a friendly etap)e officer to allow me to spend 
 one night with the convicts in an etape hdmera ; but after 
 
 1 This was in the Verkhni Udinsk know, to the complaints and sugges- 
 distriet of the Trans-Baikal. Accord- tions of the e'to/jeofl&cers, notwithstand- 
 ing to the statements made to me by ing the fact that a circular had been 
 the etape officers, black bread of the issued by the Prison and Exile Depart- 
 poorest qiiality cost from six to seven ment providing for such an exigency, 
 kopeks a pound, and the prisoners re- and reqiiesting the Siberian governors 
 ceived only eleven kopeks a day. This to increase, in times of scarcity, the 
 state of affairs existed throughout the daily allowance of prisoners on the 
 entire fall of 1885, growing worse and road. (Circular Letter of the Prison 
 worse as winter came on. No atten- and Exile Department, No. 10,887, 
 tion whatever was paid, so far as I December 15, 1880.)
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE. 
 
 387 
 
 breathing the ail* of one of 
 those cells when the doors 
 were reopened in the morn- 
 ing, I decided not to make 
 the experiment. 
 
 The second day's march 
 of the convict party that left 
 Tomsk on the 24th of August 
 differed little from the first. 
 A hasty and rather scanty 
 breakfast in the kdmeras was 
 followed by the assembling 
 of the contacts, the morn- 
 ing roll-call, and the depar- 
 ture ; the day's journey was 
 again broken by the privdl, 
 or halt for lunch ; and early 
 in the afternoon the party 
 reached the first regular 
 etape, where it was to change 
 convoys and stop one day for 
 rest. 
 
 The eta2)e differs from the 
 polu-etape only in size and in 
 the arrangement of its build- 
 ings. 
 
 The courtyard is more spa- 
 cious, and the kdmeras are a 
 
 Sololiert 
 9uSrters 
 
 
 Ba-^ 
 
 hZL 
 
 
 r,a>r>e'i 
 
 
 
 
 Ebpe Cou.rtya.tdl 
 
 Kamerj, 
 
 
 '--=- 
 
 Convoy 
 Officers 
 hou-se 
 
 
 
 Qit 
 
 e 
 
 
 Kline ra 
 
 Ka.rncr4. 
 
 PLAN OF ABOVE. 
 
 little larger than in the polu- 
 etape; but the buildings are 
 old and in bad repair, and 
 there is not room enough in 
 them for half the number 
 of prisoners now :^orwarded 
 in every party. General 
 Aniichin, the governor-gen-
 
 388 SIBERIA 
 
 era! of Eastern Siberia, who saw the etapfs along the great 
 Siberian road at their best, describes thein, in a report to 
 the Tsar, as follows: 
 
 During- my journey to Irkiitsk I inspected a great number of 
 penal institutions, including city prisons, forwarding prisons, and 
 (tapes ; and I regret to have to say that most of them are in a 
 lamentable condition. The Hapes are particularly bad. With a 
 very few exceptions they are tumble-down buildings, in bad sani- 
 tary condition, cold in winter, saturated with miasm, and offering 
 very little security against escapes.^ 
 
 I have not myself said anything worse of etapes than this. 
 If these buildings, after they had been put in the best pos- 
 sible condition for the governor-general's inspection, made 
 upon him such an impression as this, the reader can imagine 
 what impression they made upon me, when I saw them in 
 their every-day aspect. I am quite content, however, to let 
 Governor-general Anlichin's description stand as my own, 
 with a few qualifications and exceptions. All of the etapes 
 on the Tomsk-Irkutsk road are not of this character. I 
 examined one at the village of Itatskaya, near Marinsk, 
 which was clean, well cared for, and in perfect order, and I 
 have little doubt that if I had had time to visit every exile sta- 
 tion-house on the road, I should have found many to which 
 the governor-general's description would not fairly apply. 
 In the main, however, it is truthful and accurate. 
 
 The "lamentable condition" of the Siberian etapes seems 
 to me to be mainly attributable to corrupt and incapable 
 administration, and to the inherent defects of a bureau- 
 cratic system of government. For these very etapes, bad 
 as they are, an immense amount of money has been appro- 
 priated ; but the greater part of it has been divided between 
 fraudulent contractors and corrupt Grovernment officials. 
 An inspector of exile transportation, who had excellent op- 
 portunities to know the facts, told me that it was hardly an 
 
 1 First and second reports of Governor-general Anuchin to the Tsar. Ap- 
 pendix H.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 389 
 
 exaggeration to say that if all the money that had been 
 appropriated for the construction and maintenance of these 
 "tumble-down buildings" could now be gathered together, < 
 it would be enough to pay for the erection of a line of 
 solid silver etapes along the whole route from Tomsk to 
 the city of Irkutsk. Governor-general Anuchin himself 
 says, in the same report to the Tsar from which I have 
 already quoted: 
 
 Large sums of money have been spent in repairs upon these 
 buildings, and 250,000 riibles have recently been appropriated for 
 the erection of new etapes in the territory of the Trans-Baikal. 
 I doubt, however, whether it will be possible to accomplish any- 
 thing of serious importance without a change in the existing con- 
 ditions. There is even danger that the new etapes in the territory 
 of the Trans-Baikal will share the fate of the etapes in the provinces 
 of Yeniseisk and Irkutsk. 
 
 General Aniichin's foreboding has been fully justified. 
 Both the inspector of exile transportation for Eastern 
 Siberia and the assistant chief of the prison department 
 in St. Petersbui'g admitted to me that the new etapes in the 
 Trans-Baikal were " very unsatisfactory." 
 
 Our convict party spent Tuesday night in the first regu- 
 lar etape at Khaldeyeva, under almost precisely the same 
 conditions that prevailed the previous night in the polii- 
 etape of Semiluzhnaya. Half the prisoners slept on the 
 floor, under the ndri, and in the corridors, breathing all 
 night an atmosphere poisoned by cai'bonic acid and exhala- 
 tions from uncovered pardslms. Wednesday was a day of 
 rest; and the exiles lounged about all day in the prison 
 com-tyard, or studied the " record of current events," on the 
 walls of the etapes. The sleeping-platforms and the walls 
 of every Siberian etape bear countless inscriptions, left there 
 by the exiles of one party for the information or instruction 
 of their comrades in the next. Among such inscriptions 
 are messages and greetings to friends ; hints and sugges- 
 tions for hrodydgs who meditate escape; names of exiles
 
 390 SIBERIA 
 
 who have died, broken jail, or been recaptm-ed ; and items 
 of news, of all sorts, from the mines and the forwarding 
 prisons. For the convicts, therefore, the etape walls are 
 equivalent to so many pages of a daily newspaper, contain- 
 ing an exile directory, open letters, obituary notices, a 
 puzzle department of Irodydfi ciphers, and a personal intel- 
 ligence column of the highest interest to all " travelers on 
 Government account." One of the first things that an 
 experienced con\ict does, after his arrival at an etape, is to 
 search the walls for news ; and his fortunes not infrequently 
 tm-n upon the direction or the warning contained in a 
 message that he finds there from a comrade who has pre- 
 ceded him. Mr. Galkine Wrasskoy, chief of the prison 
 administration, has come at last to appreciate the signifi- 
 cance and importance of these mural inscriptions, and has 
 recently ordered etape officers to see that they are carefully 
 erased. I doubt, however, whether the order will secm^e the 
 desired results. The prison authorities are constantly out- 
 witted by convicts, and the latter will soon learn to write 
 their messages in places where an etape officer would never 
 think of looking for them, but where an experienced convict 
 will discover them at once. 
 
 Soon after leaving Tomsk, usually at the fii-st regular etape^ 
 every exile party organizes itself into an artel^ or "union," 
 elects a chief or head man known as the stdrosta, and lays 
 the foundation of an artel fund by levying an assessment 
 upon each of its members, and by selling at auction to the 
 highest bidder the privilege of keeping an exile sutler's store 
 or maiddn, where the prisoners can openly buy tea, sugar, or 
 white bread, and where they can secretly obtain tobacco, 
 playing-cards, and intoxicating liquor. The organization 
 of the party into an artel has for its primary object con- 
 certed and combined action against the common enemy — 
 the Government. A single convict, regarded as an individual, 
 has neither rights nor means of self-defense. He is com- 
 pletely at the mercy, not only of the higher authorities in
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 391 
 
 the forwarding prisons and the provincial towns, but of 
 every petty officer in the convoy command that escorts him 
 from etape to etape; and the only way in which he can 
 acquire even a limited power of self-protection is by as- 
 sociating himself with his fellow-con\dcts in an artel, or 
 union. This artel, as an organized body, exercises all of its 
 functions in secret, and strives to attain its ends, first, by 
 enforcing solidarity and joint action on the part of all its 
 members, and, secondly, by deceiving, outwitting, or bribing 
 the officers and soldiers with whom it has to deal. It concerts 
 plans of escape; it contrives means of obtaining forbidden 
 articles, such as playing-cards and tobacco; it hu*es telegas, 
 or sleighs, from the peasants along the road, and sells, or 
 gi'ants, to its members the pri\dlege of riding in them for 
 short distances when exhausted; it bribes executioners to 
 flog lightly; it pays soldiers for smuggling intoxicating liquor 
 into the forwarding prisons and etapes; and, finally, it sanc- 
 tions and enforces all contracts and agreements entered into 
 by its convict members. It is, in short, the body politic of 
 the criminal world; and it fills, in the life of the exile, the 
 same place that the mir, or commune, fills in the life of the 
 free peasant. Within the limits of its prison environment 
 the power of the artel over its members is absolute. It has 
 its own unwritten laws, its own standards of honor and 
 duty, and its own penal code. Its laws recognize only two 
 crimes, — disobedience and disloyalty, — and its penal code 
 provides for only one punishment — death. The exile may 
 lie, he may rob, he may murder if he mil, provided his action 
 does not affect injuriously the interests of the artel to which 
 he belongs; but if he disobeys that organization, or betrays 
 its secrets to the prison authorities, — even imder the com- 
 pulsion of the lash, — he may count himself as dead already. 
 Siberia is not large enough to fm^nish a safe hiding-place 
 for the exile who has been unfaithful to his artel. More 
 than once, in the large convict prisons, I saw criminals who 
 had been condemned to death as traitors by this merciless
 
 392 SIBERIA 
 
 Siberian Yelinigerichte, who, therefore, dared not associate 
 witli their t'(4k>w-prisoners, and who were Hving, by permis- 
 sion of the prison authorities, in the strictest soHtary con- 
 finement. Over the head of every one of these men hung 
 an invisible sword of Damocles, and sooner or later, in one 
 place or another, it was sure to fall. The records of Russian 
 prisons are full of cases in which the sentence of death pro- 
 nounced by an artel has been executed years afterwards, and 
 in a place far removed from the scene of the offense. In 
 one recent case the traitor was choked to death one night, 
 at sea, while on his way in a convict steamer to the island of 
 Saghalin, and in another the informer was found one morning 
 ^Wth his throat cut in a Caucasian etoj^e. 
 
 The prison officials throughout Siberia have long been 
 aware of the existence of this secret criminal organization, 
 but they have never been able to suppress it, and they now 
 give to it a certain sort of recognition— putting up with its 
 ine\^table e\als and making the most of its merits. A con- 
 voy officer, for example, wishes to be able to report to his 
 superior at the end of the year that not a single exile has 
 escaped while in his charge. He summons the stdrosta, or 
 chief of the artel, and says to him, "Call the boys together 
 and tell them, from me, that if the artel will agi'ee not to 
 allow any escapes from the party on my beat, I will look 
 the other way when they take off their leg-fetters."' The 
 stdrosta replies, "Slushiu, S'" [I hear, sir], and goes back 
 into the kdmera to lay this proposition before the artel 
 The artel accepts it, and every chained con\dct begins 
 pounding at the ankle-bands of his leg-fetters. The con- 
 voy officer, of com-se, has himself committed a penal offense 
 in entering into this sort of an agreement, but he knows 
 that the artel will never betray him, and he is relieved at 
 once from all anxiety with regard to escapes. If, after the 
 
 1 The ankle-bands of Russian leg- ally be slipped off over the heel. Of 
 
 fetters fit so loosely that when they eoui-se this cannot be done, however, 
 
 have been pounded with a stone into without the connivance of the convoy 
 
 the form of an ellipse they can gener- oflScers and the soldiers of the guard.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 393 
 
 negotiation of such a treaty, an exile should attempt to get 
 away from the party within the limits of that officer's jm'is- 
 dictiou, he would have to answer for it to the artel^ and 
 sooner or later he would pay dearly — perhaps with his life 
 — for thus breaking faith and dishonoring the organization 
 of which he was a member. The late Colonel Zagarin, in- 
 spector of exile transportation for Eastern Siberia, told me 
 that he himself had often made a substantial contribution 
 to the fmid of an exile artel merely in order to secm^e from 
 the latter a promise that no attempts to escape should be 
 made within the limits of his jmisdiction. Such promises, 
 he said, were always faithfully observed by the artel in its 
 corporate capacity, and were rarely disregarded even by 
 indi\dduals. If, however, an inexperienced "fii'st-timer," 
 tempted by a favorable opportunity, should try to escape, 
 in defiance of the arteVs prohibition, the veterans of the 
 party, namely, the hrodydgs, would always undertake either 
 to recapture the fugitive, or to bring in some other run- 
 away convict as a substitute, and thus save the honor of 
 the artel. He could not remember a single case, he said, 
 in which the artel had broken faith. It must not be sup- 
 posed, however, that the prison commune, in such dealings 
 with the authorities, is actuated by any high or honorable 
 motives. In keeping its promise, in enforcing solidarity, 
 and in punishing disloyalty and disobedience with death, it 
 is merely protecting its own existence and securing what a 
 majority of its members believe to be the greatest good of 
 the greatest number. It has no sentimental regard for 
 truthfulness or faithfulness in the abstract. It simply 
 knows that, at certain times and in certain circumstances, 
 honesty is the best policy, and then it enforces honesty 
 under penalty of death. If, however, circumstances so 
 change as to render dishonesty the best policy, then the 
 artel sanctions and compels the practice of deception, fraud, 
 untruthfulness, and treachery, under the same tremendous 
 penalty.
 
 394 SIBERIA 
 
 Cue of tlio most important functions of the exile artel is 
 the enforoement of agveemonts entered into by its members, 
 and particularly agreements to exchange names and identi- 
 ties. Every exile party is made np of two great classes, 
 namely: A — criminals sentenced to hard labor with im- 
 prisonment; and B — criminals sentenced merely to forced 
 colonization A\itliout imprisonment. Every convict in class 
 " A " strives to escape the hard labor and the imprisonment 
 by exchanging his name and identity for the name and 
 identity of some convict in class " B." It would seem, at 
 lirst thought, as if the difficulties in the way of such a 
 transaction would be ^drtually insuperable. It is not only 
 strictly forbidden by law, but it is a transaction in which one 
 of the parties, apparently, gets all the benefit. Wliy should 
 convoy officers allow such exchanges of names, and why 
 should the colonist be willing to go to the mines in the 
 place of the hard-labor convict, even if permitted to do so f 
 The difficulties are only apparent, and the questions are 
 easily answered. The convicts in every marching party 
 that leaves Tomsk for Eastern Siberia number about 400, 
 and they change convoy every third day. It is utterly im- 
 possible for a convoy officer to so familiarize himself, in 
 three days, with the faces of 400 convicts, that he can tell 
 one from another. If Ivan Pavlof answers to the name of 
 Mikhaiel Ivanof at the roll-call of the party, he virtually 
 becomes Mikhaiel Ivanof. The convoy officer does not 
 know either of them by sight, and even if he called the roll 
 himself, and looked attentively at every man, he would not 
 notice the substitution. So far as the authorities are con- 
 cerned, therefore, names and identities can be exchanged 
 without the least difficulty or danger. The willingness of 
 the colonist to exchange names with the hard-labor convict 
 and go into penal servitude in the latter's stead may be ex- 
 plained almost as easily. 
 
 In every exile party there are a few reckless, improvident, 
 hard-drinking peasants who have been condemned to forced
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 395 
 
 colonization. When one of these poor wi-etches has spent 
 all his money, and perhaps has gambled away all of his 
 clothing and mortgaged his food-allowance for weeks in 
 advance, he gets into such a condition that for five or ten 
 rubles and a bottle of vodka he will sell his very soul. The 
 hard-labor convict, who is generally a bold, enterprising, 
 experienced recidivist, and a man, moreover, who has won 
 and saved some money on the road, then approaches the 
 hungry, thirsty, half -naked, and wholly destitute colonist, 
 and says to him, " If you will exchange names with me and 
 go in my place to the mines, I '11 give you my warm shuba 
 [overcoat], five rubles in money, and a bottle of vodJca. You 
 won't have to stay at the mines long. After I have had 
 time to reach your place of colonization and run away, you 
 can tell the nacJidlnik [chief] at the mines who you really 
 are, and say that you have been sent there by mistake. He 
 will make inquiries, and as soon as he finds out that you are 
 not me, he will send you back to your place of colonization ; 
 and then we '11 both be all right." 
 
 The persuasive eloquence of the hard-labor convict, 
 backed by five rubles, a warm shuba, and a bottle of vodka, 
 is generally too much for the resolution of the unfortunate 
 colonist. He consents to the proposed exchange of names 
 and identities, and the artel is at once convened to note, 
 sanction, and mentally record the transaction. At the next 
 and at every subsequent roll-call of the party, the hard- 
 labor convict answers to the name of the colonist, and the 
 colonist must answer to the name of the hard-labor convict. 
 The more dangerous criminal, who, perhaps, should serve 
 out a life sentence at the mines for murder, is turned loose 
 in some East-Siberian village from which he immediately 
 makes his escape, while the petty thief, drunkard, or wife- 
 beater goes into penal servitude at the mines of Nerchinsk 
 or Kara. 
 
 Although the exchanging of names has been practised by 
 convicts in Siberia from time immemorial, and although it
 
 396 SIBERIA 
 
 is manifestly unjust, prejudicial to the interests of the state, 
 and (letriniontal in the liii;liest degree to the welfare of the 
 Siberian people, all suggestions made by experienced etape 
 officers with regard to methods of stopping it have been 
 disregarded. Ten years ago Colonel Zagarin, the inspector 
 of exile transportation for Eastern Siberia, made a report 
 upon the subject to Governor-general Anuchin in which he 
 recommended that hard-labor convicts, as a class, be made 
 distinguishable from forced colonists, as a class, by means 
 of a different shaving of the head. Both classes now have 
 their heads half shaven on the same side. Colonel Zagarin 
 suggested that the heads of all hard-labor convicts be 
 shaved on the right side and of all forced colonists on the 
 left. The exchanging of names and identities between the 
 two classes would then become impossible, for the reason 
 that every etape officer and every soldier of the convoy 
 could see at a glance to which class any particular criminal 
 belonged. The forced colonist Ivan Pavlof might answer, 
 as before, to the name of the hard-labor convict Mikhaiel 
 Ivanof at roll-call, but it would be perfectly useless to 
 do so, because the cut of his hair would at once betray 
 him. 
 
 "What did the governor-general say to your suggestion?" 
 I inquired, when Colonel Zagarin finished telling me about 
 this report. 
 
 "Nothing," he replied. "It was never acted upon. Anu- 
 chin referred, even in his report to the Gossudar, to the bad 
 results of this practice of changing names, but he never 
 tried to stop it in the way that I suggested." 
 
 "What preposterous stupidity!" I exclaimed. "The 
 method is simplicity itself, it would cost nothing, and it 
 would make the exchanging of names absolutely impos- 
 sible. What conceivable reason could Anuchin have for 
 not adopting it!" 
 
 "I don't know any reason," replied Colonel Zagarin, "ex- 
 cept that he did n't happen to think of it himself. Our high
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 397 
 
 officials don't take suggestions very kindly — especially from 
 their subordinates." ^ 
 
 Since my return from Siberia an attempt has been made 
 to secm'e certainty of identification in criminal parties by 
 means of small photographs of the eon\dcts attached to their 
 stateini spiski, but I do not know how it has resulted. 
 
 Deportation by e%je in Siberia is attended by miseries 
 and hmniliations of which a Em'opean or an American 
 reader can form only a faint conception. I had many op- 
 portunities, dm-ing om* jom'ney from Tomsk to Irkutsk, to 
 see convicts on the march in sunshine and in rain; to in- 
 spect the wi'etched etapes in which they were herded like 
 cattle at night; to visit the lazarets where they sometimes 
 lie sick for weeks without skilled medical attention or 
 proper care; and to talk with intelligent officers of the 
 prison department who had been familiar for years with 
 every feature of the exile system. The result of my inves- 
 tigation was a deliberate con\dction that the suffering in- 
 volved in the present method of transporting criminals to 
 Siberia is not paralleled by anything of the kind that now 
 exists in the ci\ilized world outside of the Russian Empire. 
 Some of this suffering is due, of com'se, to negligence, indif- 
 ference, or official corruption; but a very large part of it is 
 the necessary result of a bad and cruel system, and it can 
 be removed only by the complete abolition of the sj^stem it- 
 self, and by the substitution for it of imprisonment for life, 
 
 1 This remark, "Our high officials evils that had been found, in practice, 
 
 don't take suggestions very kindly," to arise. Most of these suggestions 
 
 was made to me, in substance, by at seemed to me to be wise and judicious, 
 
 least a dozen experienced officers of and all of them deserved serious and 
 
 the exile administration in Siberia, in- attentive consideration. Not one, so 
 
 eluding the inspector of exile transpor- far as I know, was ever adopted, and 
 
 tation, the warden of one of the largest in several cases the higher authorities 
 
 of the convict prisons, and two sue- distinctly intimated to their over-zeal- 
 
 cessive governors of the Kara mines, ous subordinates that when they — the 
 
 I have, in my note-books, a score or higher authorities — felt themselves to 
 
 more of suggestions made by these of- be in need of information or advice, 
 
 fleers to their superiors with regard to they would make a requisition for it 
 
 methods of reforming the exile sys- in due form, 
 tern, or of dealing with some of the
 
 398 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 or for a term of years, in European Russia. Only a mo- 
 niont'S refl(H»tion is neiMled to satisfy any one that, even 
 imder tlie most favorable circumstances, six or eight thou- 
 sand men, women, and children cannot march two thou- 
 
 '11)11 
 
 sand miles across such a country as Eastern Siberia with- 
 out suffering terrible hardships. The physical exposm'e 
 alone is enough to break down the health and strength of 
 all except the most hardy, and when to such inevitable 
 exposure are added insufficient clothing, bad food, the pol- 
 luted air of overcrowded etapes, and the almost complete
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 399 
 
 absence of medical care and attention, one is sm^prised, not 
 that so many die, but that so many get through alive. 
 
 The exile parties that leave Tomsk in July and August 
 are overtaken by the frosts and the cold rains of autumn 
 long before they reach Irkutsk. They have not yet been 
 supplied with winter clothing, and most of them have no 
 better protection from rain, sleet, or cold wind than that 
 afforded by a coarse linen shirt, a pair of linen di'awers, and 
 a gray frieze overcoat. Imagine such a party marching in a 
 cold, northeast storm along the road over which we passed 
 between Achinsk and Krasnoyarsk. Every individual is 
 wet to the skin by the drenching rain, and the nm-sing 
 women, the small children, and the sick lie quivering on 
 water-soaked straw in small, rude telegas^ without even a 
 pretense of shelter from the storm. The mud, in places, is 
 almost knee-deep, and the wagons wallow through it at the 
 rate of about two miles an horn-. The bodies of the march- 
 ing convicts, kept warm by the exertion of walking in hea^y 
 leg-fetters, steam a little in the raw, chilly air, but a large 
 number of the men have lost or removed their shoes, and 
 are wading through the freezing mud with bare feet. The 
 Government, influenced, I presume, by considerations of 
 economy, furnishes its exiles in summer and fall with low 
 shoes or slippers called kat% instead of with boots. These 
 hati are made by contract and by the thousand, of the 
 cheapest materials, and by the Government itself are ex- 
 pected to last only six weeks.^ As a matter of fact they 
 frequently do not last one week. 
 
 A high officer of the exile administration told me that it 
 was a common thing to see exiles leave Tomsk or Kras- 
 noyarsk with new hati and come into the second etape 
 barefooted — their shoes having gone to pieces in less than 
 two days. Even when the hati hold out for their nominal 
 period of service, they are not fitted to the feet of the 
 wearers ; they cannot be secured, because they have no 
 
 1 Circular Letter of the Prison Department, No. 180.
 
 400 SIBERIA 
 
 laces ; they are so low that thoy fill with mire and water 
 and are constantly sticking fast or coming oft' in mnd-holes ; 
 and on such a road as that between Achinsk and Krasnoy- 
 arsk "scores of convicts either remove their shoes and hang 
 them around their necks, or throw them away altogether, 
 and walk for days at a time with bare feet, through mud 
 whose temperature is little above the freezing-point. 
 
 As the party, wet, tired, and hungry, approaches one of 
 the little log \dllages that lie along its route, the stdrosta, or 
 chief of the artel, asks the convoy ofi&cer to allow them 
 to sing the " begging song " as they pass through the settle- 
 ment. The desired permission is gi*anted ; certain prisoners 
 are designated to receive the expected alms ; the convicts 
 all remove their gray caps ; and entering the village with a 
 slow, dragging step, as if they hardly had strength enough 
 to crawl along, they begin their mournful appeal for pity. 
 
 I shall never forget the emotions roused in me l)y this 
 song when I heard it for the first time. We were sitting, 
 one cold, raw, autumnal day, in a dirty post-station on the 
 great Siberian road, waiting for horses. Suddenly my 
 attention was attracted by a peculiar, low-pitched, quaver- 
 ing sound which came to us from a distance, and which, 
 although made apparently by human voices, did not resem- 
 ble anything that I had ever before heard. It was not sing- 
 ing, nor chanting, nor wailing for the dead, but a strange 
 blending of all three. It suggested vaguely the confused and 
 commingled sobs, moans, and entreaties of human beings 
 who were being subjected to tortm'e, but whose sufferings 
 were not acute enough to seek expression in shrieks or high- 
 pitched cries. As the sound came nearer we went out into 
 the street in front of the station-house and saw approaching 
 a chained party of about a hundred bare-headed convicts, 
 who, surrounded by a cordon of soldiers, were marching 
 slowly through the settlement, singing the " exiles' begging 
 song." No attempt was made by the singers to pitch their 
 voices in harmony, or to pronounce the words in unison ;
 
 DEPOETATION BY ETAPE 401 
 
 there were no pauses or rests at the ends of the lines ; 
 and I could not make out any distinctly marked rhythm. 
 The singers seemed to be constantly breaking in upon one 
 another with slightly modulated variations of the same 
 slow, melancholy air, and the effect produced was that of a 
 rude fugue, or of a funeral chant, so arranged as to be sung 
 like a round or catch by a hundred male voices, each inde- 
 pendent of the others in time and melody, but all following 
 a certain scheme of vocalization, and taking up by tm-ns the 
 same dreary, wailing theme. The words were as follows : 
 
 Have pity on us, O our fathers ! 
 Don't forget the unwilhng travelers, 
 Don't forget the long-imprisoned. 
 Feed us, O our fathers — help us! 
 Feed and help the poor and needy ! 
 Have compassion, O our fathers ! 
 Have compassion, O our mothers! 
 For the sake of Christ, have mercy 
 On the prisoners — the shut-up ones ! 
 Behind walls of stone and gratings, 
 Behind oaken doors and padlocks, 
 Behind bars and locks of iron, 
 We are held in close confinement. 
 We have parted from our fathers, 
 From our mothers ; 
 We from all our kin have parted, 
 We are prisoners ; 
 Pity us, O our fathers ! 
 
 If you can imagine these words, half sung, half chanted, 
 slowly, in broken time and on a low key, by a hundred 
 voices, to an accompaniment made by the jingling and 
 clashing of chains, you will have a faint idea of the milos- 
 erdnai/a, or exiles' begging song. Rude, artless, and in- 
 harmonious as the appeal for pity was, I had never in my 
 life heard anything so mournful and depressing. It seemed 
 to be the half-articulate expression of all the grief, the 
 misery, and the despair that had been felt by generations 
 26
 
 402 SIBERIA 
 
 of luinian beings in the etnpes^ the forwarding prisons, and 
 the mines. 
 
 As the party niarehed slowly along the muddy street be- 
 tween the lines of gray log houses, children and peasant 
 women appeared at the doors with their hands full of bread, 
 meat, eggs, or othei' articles of food, which they put into the 
 caps or bags of the three or four shaven-headed convicts 
 who acted as alms-collectors. The jingling of chains and 
 the wailing voices of the exiles grew gradually fainter 
 and fainter as the party passed up the street, and when the 
 sounds finally died away in the distance, and we turned to 
 reenter the post-station, I felt a strange sense of dejection, 
 as if the day had suddenly grown colder, darker, and more 
 di'eary, and the cares and sorrows of life more burdensome 
 and oppressive. 
 
 At the first privdl, or halt, that a party makes after pass- 
 ing through a village, the food that has been collected is 
 distributed and eaten, and the convicts, somewhat refreshed, 
 resume their march. Late in the evening they arrive, wet 
 and weary, at an etape, where, after supper and the pere- 
 clichka^ or roll-call, they are locked up in the close, unventi- 
 lated kdmeras for the night. Most of them are in a shiver — 
 or, as they sometimes call it, a "gypsy sweat" — from cold 
 and from long exposure to rain ; but they have neither dry 
 clothing to put on nor blankets with which to cover them- 
 selves, and must lie down upon the hard plank ndri, or upon 
 the floor, and seek warmth in close contact with one another. 
 Some of them have, perhaps, a change of clothing in their 
 gray linen bags, but both bags and clothing have been 
 exposed for eight or ten hom-s to a pouring rain, and are 
 completely soaked through. If the Grovernment really cared 
 anything about the comfort or health of exiles on the road, 
 it would f ui'nish convoy ofiicers with tarpaulins or sheets of 
 oilcloth to put over and protect the exiles' baggage in rainy 
 weather. This would add a mere trifle to the cost of exile 
 transportation, and it would make all the difference between
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 
 
 403 
 
 life and death to hundreds of weak or half-sick human beings, 
 who come into an etape soaked to the skin after a march of 
 twenty miles in a cold rain, and who have no dry clothing 
 
 AN OLD CONVICT BEGGING FOOD. 
 
 to put on. The very money spent for the bmial of the poor 
 wretches who die from croup, pleurisy, or pneumonia, as a 
 result of sleeping in wet clothes on the road, would buy 
 a substantial tarpaulin for every exile baggage-wagon in 
 Siberia — and yet the tarpaulins are not bought. If it be
 
 4(U SIBERIA 
 
 asked why not, I can only say, because the officials who care 
 have not the power, and the officials who have the power 
 do not care. 1 went through Siberia with the words " Why 
 so t " and " Why not ? " upon my lips, and this, in effect, was 
 the answer that I everywhere received. 
 
 " I have recommended again and again," said a high offi- 
 cer of the exile administration to me, " that the convicts be 
 taken to their destinations in summer and in wagons, instead 
 of being obliged to walk throughout the whole year. I have 
 shown conclusively, by exact figui'es and carefully prepared 
 estimates, that the transportation of exiles from Achinsk to 
 Irkutsk in wagons, and in summer, would not only be infi- 
 nitely more merciful and humane than the present method 
 of forwarding them on foot the year round, but would actu- 
 ally cost fom-teen rubles less per man, on account of the 
 saving in time, food, and winter clothing." 
 
 "Why, then, is it not done!" I inquired. 
 
 His only reply was a significant shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 "I have repeatedly protested," said another exile officer, 
 "against the acceptance, from dishonest contractors, of ar- 
 ticles of exile clothing that did not correspond with the 
 specification or the samples; but I have accomplished noth- 
 ing. Shoes so worthless that they fall to pieces in two days 
 are accepted in j)lace of the good shoes that ought to be 
 fm'uished, and the exiles go barefooted. All that I can do 
 is to lay before my superiors the facts of the case." 
 
 Wliile in the city of Irkutsk, I called one day upon Mr. 
 Petrof, the acting-governor of the province, and found in 
 his office Colonel Zagarin, the inspector of exile transporta- 
 tion for Eastern Siberia. The latter had brought to the 
 governor some kati, or exile shoes, that had just been ac- 
 cepted by the pro^dncial administration, and was exhibiting 
 them side by side with the original samples that had been 
 fm'nished as models to the contractor. The accepted shoes 
 did not resemble the models, they were perfectly worthless, 
 and might have been made, I think, by the thousand, for
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 405 
 
 ten or fifteen cents a pair. Colonel Zagarin was protesting 
 ag'ainst the acceptance of such shoes, and was asking for an 
 investigation. The fraud was so manifest and so glaring, 
 and the results of it would be so calamitous to thousands of 
 poor wi'etches who would wear these hatl for a day or two 
 and then be forced to walk barefooted over icy ground or 
 through freezing mud, that I thought something would cer- 
 tainly be done about it. Upon my retm*n from the mines 
 of the Trans-Baikal five months later, I asked Colonel Zaga- 
 rin what had been the result of the protest that he had made 
 to the governor in my presence. He replied, "It had no 
 result." 
 
 "And were those shoes issued to marching exile parties!" 
 
 "They were." 
 
 I asked no more questions. 
 
 I could fm'nish innumerable illustrations of the way in 
 which the life of convicts on the road is made almost in- 
 tolerable by official indifference or fraud; but it is perhaps 
 unnecessary to do so. The results of that life are shown 
 by the records of the hospitals and lazarets, and by the ex- 
 traordinarily high rate of mortality in exile parties. Hun- 
 di-eds of prisoners, of both sexes and all ages, fall sick on 
 the road, and after being carried for a week, or perhaps 
 two weeks, in jolting telegas^ are finally left to recover or to 
 die in one of the etape lazarets between Achinsk and Irkutsk. 
 It seems barbarous, and of course it is barbarous, to carry 
 forward in a springless telega^ regardless of weather, an im- 
 fortunate man or woman who has been taken sick with 
 pneumonia or typhus fever on the road; but, under existing 
 circumstances, there is nothing else for a convoy officer to 
 do. He and his soldiers must go on with the exile party, 
 and he cannot leave the sick for five days in a deserted 
 etape wholly without attendance. He is forced, therefore, 
 to carry them along until they either die or reach one of 
 the mdely separated lazarets, where they can be left and 
 cared for.
 
 400 SIBERIA 
 
 I^Iauy times on the i>-reat Siberian road, when T had been 
 j(^lted nntil my pnlse had become imperceptible at the wrist 
 from weakness, sleeplessness, and incessant shocks to the 
 spinal cord and the brain, and when it seemed to me that I 
 eonld endure no more, I maintained my grip by thinking 
 of the hundreds of exiled men and women who, sick unto 
 death, had been carried over this same road in open tele- 
 gas ; who had endured this same jolting while their heads 
 ached and throbbed with the quick pulses of fever; who 
 had lain for many hours at a time on water-soaked straw 
 in a pitiless storm while suffering from pneumonia, and 
 who had nothing to sustain them except the faint hope 
 of reaching at last some fever-infected lazaret. If men 
 can bear all this, I thought, we ought not to complain 
 of our trivial hardships, nor break down under a little 
 unusual fatigue. 
 
 The sick who live to reach an etape lazaret may hope to 
 die under shelter and in peace; but, if the reports of the 
 exile administration are to be trusted, they can hardly ex- 
 pect to be restored to health. Mr. Galkine Wras,skoy, the 
 chief of the prison administration, in an official report to 
 the Minister of the Interior, describes the condition of the 
 lazarets between Achinsk and Irkutsk as follows : 
 
 Up to the year 1885 the lazarets necessary for the accommoda- 
 tion of exiles taken sick on the great exile road had not been built, 
 nor had any provision been made for regular surgeons, or even for 
 feldsliers} According to paragraph 5 of section 363 of the " Laws 
 relating to Exiles," it is the duty of civil and military surgeons, in 
 places where etape officers are quartered, to examine the sick and 
 give them necessary aid. Civil surgeons, however, do not live in 
 etape villages, and army surgeons are found only at the etapes of 
 Sheragiilskaya, Birusinskaya, and Tiretskaya, In these places 
 there are army lazarets with six beds each, for the accommodation 
 of sick soldiers belonging to the convoy commands. All prisoners 
 taken sick on the road between Achinsk and Irkutsk, up to the 
 
 1 A feldsher is a sort of hospital steward, who, in the absence of a regular 
 surgeon, performs the latter's duties.
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 407 
 
 year 1885, have been treated at these three efapes ^ — not, however, 
 in the army lazarets, but in the common cells of the etape build- 
 ings. There they have been kept, not only without separation 
 according to age, sex, or nature of disease, but without any of the 
 conveniences and appliances that a lazaret should have. In the 
 cells set apart for sick exiles there were neither nurses, nor 
 hospital linen, nor beds, nor bedding, nor even dishes for food.^ 
 
 A sick exile who reaches one of the etapes named in this 
 report, and who is put into a common prison cell where 
 there are "neither nui'ses, nor hospital linen, nor beds, nor 
 bedding, nor even dishes for food," cannot reasonably en- 
 tertain a very sanguine expectation of recovery. Most of 
 them do recover, but, nevertheless, the death-rate in exile 
 parties during their march from Tomsk to Irkutsk, if car- 
 ried through, an entire year, would amount to from twelve 
 to fifteen per cent.^ 
 
 It is not surprising that exiles sometimes endeavor to 
 escape from a life so full of miseries as this by making a 
 break for liberty between etapes. The more experienced 
 brodydgs, or recidi\dsts, generally try to get away by ex- 
 changing names and identities with some forced colonist 
 who is soon to reach, his destination; but now and then two 
 or three daring or desperate convicts attempt to escape 
 "with a hm-rah" — that is, by a bold dash through the line of 
 soldiers. They are instantly fired upon, and one or more of 
 them is usually brought to the ground. The soldiers have 
 a saying that "A bullet wiU find a runaway," and a slug 
 
 iThe distances between these e'topes 2 Report of Mr. Galkine Wrdsskoy, 
 
 are as follows : Achinsk to Birusin- chief of the prison administration, for 
 
 skaya, 352 miles ; Birusinskaya to She- the year 1885. 
 
 ragiilskaya, 200 miles; Sheragiilskaya sin 1883 seventy exiles died between 
 
 to Tiretskaya, 90 miles ; Tiretskaya to Tomsk and Achinsk, in the course of a 
 
 Irkutsk, 139 miles. A marching party journey that occupies about twenty-one 
 
 of exiles makes, on an average, about days. This rate of mortality, if it had 
 
 80 miles a week. The results of the been maintained for a year, would 
 
 state of affairs described by Mr. Gal- have resulted in the death of 1217 ex- 
 
 kine Wrasskoy may be seen in the iles out of the whole number of 7865 
 
 official reports of the sickness and making the journey. (Vide Report of 
 
 mortality in the lazarets of these three the Inspector of Exile Transportation 
 
 eta2)es. (Appendix G.) in Western Siberia for 1884, pp. 32, 33.)
 
 408 
 
 SIBERIA 
 
 A JJl.tVK lOK LIBl Kll
 
 DEPORTATION BY ETAPE 409 
 
 from a Berdau rifle is always the fii'st messenger sent after 
 a fugitive who tries to escape "with a hm-rah." Now and 
 then, when the party happens to be passing through a 
 dense forest, the flying convicts get mider cover so quickly 
 that the soldiers can only fire into the bushes at random, 
 and in such cases the runaways make good then* escape. 
 As soon as they reach a hiding-place they free themselves 
 from their leg-fetters by pounding the circular bands into 
 long ellipses with a stone and slipping them over their heels, 
 and then join some detachment of the great army of hrod- 
 ydgs which is constantly marching westward through the 
 woods in the direction of the Urals. 
 
 The life of exiles on the road, which I have tried to 
 roughly sketch, continues, with little to break its monotony, 
 for many months. In sunshine and in storm, through dust 
 and through nmd, the convicts march slowly but steadily 
 eastward, crossing the gi'eat Siberian rivers on pendulum 
 ferry-boats; toiling up the sides of forest-clad mountains in 
 di-enching rains; wading through mire in swampy valleys; 
 sleeping every night in the heavy mephitic atmosphere of 
 overcrowded etapes, .and drawing nearer, day by day, to the 
 dreaded mines of the Trans-Baikal. 
 
 27
 
 
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