The system of espionage which is exercised in the palace, especially around the Emperor himself, would seem almost incredible to the uninitiated. The following incident will give some idea of it. A few years later, one of the grand dukes received a severe lesson from a St. Petersburg gentle- man. The latter had forbidden the grand duke his house, but, returning home unexpectedly, he found him in his drawing-room, and rushed upon him with his lifted stick. The young man dashed down the staircase, and was already jumping into his carriage, when the pursuer caught him, and dealt him a blow with his stick. The policeman who stood at the door saw the adventure and ran to report it to the chief of the police, General Trépoff, who, in his turn, jumped into his carriage and hastened to the Emperor, to be the first to report the “sad incident.” Alexander IT. / summoned the grand duke and had a talk with him. A ‘couple of days later, an old functionary who belonged to ‘the Third Section of the Emperor’s Chancery, — that is, ' to the state police, — and who was a friend at the house of one of my comrades, related the whole conversation. ‘The Emperor,” he informed us, “‘was very angry, and said to : the grand duke in conclusion, ‘You should know better “how to manage your little affairs.’”? He was asked, of course, how he could know anything about a private con- _versation, but the reply was very characteristic: ‘“ The 146 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST words and the opinions of his Majesty must be known to our department. How otherwise could such a delicate institution as the state police be managed? Be sure that the Emperor is the most closely watched person in all St. Petersburg.”.
There was no boasting in these words. Every minister, every governor-general, before entering the Emperor’s study with his reports, had a talk with the private valet of the Emperor, to know what was the mood of the master that day; and, according to that mood, he either laid before him some knotty affair, or let it lie at the bottom of his portfolio in hope of a more lucky day. The governor-general of East Siberia, when he came to St. Petersburg, always sent his private aide-de-camp with a handsome gift to the private valet of the Emperor. ‘There are days,’ he used to say, “when the Emperor would get into a rage, and order a searching inquest upon every one and myself, if I should lay before him on such a day certain reports; whereas there are other days when all will go off quite smoothly. A precious man that valet is.” To know from day to day the frame of mind of the Emperor was a substantial part of the art of retaining a high position,—an art which later on Count Shuvaloff and General Trépoff understood to perfec tion; also Count Ignatieff, who, I suppose from what I saw of him, possessed that art even without the help of the valet.
At the beginning of my service I felt a great admiration » for Alexander II., the liberator of the serfs. Imagination | often carries a boy beyond the realities of the moment, and my frame of mind at that time was such that if an attempt | had been made in my presence upon the Tsar, I should have | covered him with my body. One day, at the beginning of | January, 1862, I saw him leave the procession and rapidly | walk alone toward the halls where parts of all the regiments i : ) ALEXANDER II 147 of the: St. Petersburg garrison were aligned for a parade. This pzrade usually took place outdoors, but this year, on account of the frost, it was held indoors, and Alexander II., who generally galloped at full speed in front of the troops at the reviews, had now to march in front of the regiments. I knew that my court duties ended as soon as the Emperor appeared in his capacity of military commander of the troops, and that I had to follow him to this spot, but no further. However, on looking round, I saw that he was quite alone. The two aides-de-camp had disappeared, and there was with him not a single man of his suite. ‘I will not leave him alone!” I said to myself, and followed him.
Whether Alexander IT. was in a great hurry that 2ay, or had other reasons to wish that the review should be over as soon as possible, I cannot say, but he dashed in front of the troops, and marched along their rows at such a speed, making such big and rapid steps, — he was very tall, — that I had the greatest difficulty in following him at my most rapid ‘pace, and in places had almost to run in order to keep close ‘behind him. He hurried as if running away from a danger. ‘His excitement communicated itself to me, and every mo- ‘ment I was ready to jump in front of him, regretting only that I had on my ordnance sword and not my own sword, ‘with a Toledo blade, which pierced copper and was a far better weapon. It was only after he had passed in front of ‘the last battalion that he slackened his pace, and, on entering another hall, looked round, to meet my eyes glittering with ‘the excitement of that mad march. The younger aide-de- ‘camp was running at full speed, two halls behind. I was ‘prepared to get a severe scolding, instead of which Alex- ander II. said to me, perhaps betraying his own inner ‘thoughts: “You here? Brave boy!” and as he slowly walked away, he turned into space that problematic, absent- ‘minded gaze, which I had begun often to notice.
Such was then the frame of my mind. However, various 148 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST t small incidents, as well as the reactionary character which the policy of Alexander II. was decidedly taking, instilled more and more doubts into my heart. Every year, on January 6, a half Christian and half pagan ceremony of sanctifying the waters is performed in Russia. It i6 also performed at the palace. A pavilion is built on the Neva River, opposite the palace, and the imperial family, headed by the clergy, proceed from the palace, across the superb quay, to the pavilion, where a Te Deum is sung and the cross is plunged into the water of the river. Thousands of people stand on the quay and on the ice of the Neva to witness the ceremony from a distance. All have to stand bareheaded during the service. This year, as the frost was rather sharp, an old general had put on a wig, and in the hurry of drawing on his cape, his wig had been dislodged and now lay across his head, without his noticing it. The Grand Duke Constantine, having caught sight of it, laughed the whole time the Te Deum was being sung, with the younger grand dukes, looking in the direction of the un- happy general, who smiled stupidly without knowing why he was the cause of so much hilarity. Constantine finally whispered to the Emperor, who also looked at the general and laughed.
A few minutes later, as the procession once more crossed the quay, on its way back to the palace, an old peasant, bareheaded too, pushed himself through the double hedge of soldiers who lined the path of the procession, and fell on his knees just at the feet of the Emperor, holding out a petition, and crying with tears in his eyes, “ Father, defend us!’”? Ages of oppression of the Russian peasantry was in this exclamation; but Alexander II., who a few minutes before laughed during the church-service at a wig lying the wrong way, now passed by the peasant without taking the slightest notice of him. I was close behind him, and only saw in him a shudder of fear at the sudden appearance of ALEXANDER II 149 the peasant, after which he went on without deigning even to cast a glance on the human figure at his feet. I looked round. The aides-de-camp were not there; the Grand Duke Constantine, who followed, took no more notice of the peasant than his brother did; there was nobody even to take the petition, so that I took it, although I knew that I should get a scolding for doing so. It was not my business to receive petitions, but I remembered what it must have cost the peasant before he could make his way to the capital, ‘and then through the lines of police and soldiers who surrounded the procession. Like all peasants who hand petitions to the Tsar, he was going to be put under arrest, for no one knows how long.
On the day of the emancipation of the serfs, Alexander II. was worshiped at St. Petersburg; but it is most remark- able that, apart from that moment of general enthusiasm, he had not the love of the city. His brother Nicholas — noone could say why — was at least very popular among the small tradespeople and the cabmen; but neither Alex- ander II., nor his brother Constantine, the leader of the reform party, nor his third brother, Mikhael, had won the hearts of any class of people in St. Petersburg. Alexander II. had retained too much of the despotic character of his father, which pierced now and then through his usually good-natured manners. He easily lost his temper, and often treated his courtiers in the most contemptuous way. _ He was not what one would describe as a truly reliable _ Man, either in his policy or in his personal sympathies, and he was vindictive. I doubt whether he was sincerely _ attached to any one. Some of the men in his nearest sur- _ roundings were of the worst description, — Count Adler- _ berg, for instance, who made him pay over and over again _ his enormous debts, and others renowned for their colossal _ thefts, From the beginning of 1862 he commenced to 150 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST show himself capable of reviving the worst practices of his father’s reign. It was known that he still wanted to carry through a series of important reforms in the judicial organ- ization and in the army; that the terrible corporal punish- ments were about to be abolished, and that a sort of local self-government, and perhaps a constitution of some sort, would be granted. But the slightest disturbance was re- pressed under his orders with a stern severity: he took each movement as a personal offense, so that at any moment one might expect from him the most reactionary measures. The disorders which broke out at the universities of St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Kazan, in October, 1861, were repressed with an ever increasing strictness. The Univer- sity of St. Petersburg was closed, and although free courses were opened by most of the professors at the Town Hall, they were also soon closed, and some of the best professors left the university. Immediately after the abolition of serfdom, a great movement began for the opening of Sunday-schools; they were opened everywhere by private persons and cor- porations, —all the teachers being volunteers, — and the peasants and workers, old and young, flocked to these schools. Officers, students, even a few pages, became teachers; and such excellent methods were worked out that (Russian having a phonetic spelling) we succeeded in teach- ing a peasant to read in nine or ten lessons. But suddenly all Sunday-schools, in which the mass of the peasantry would. have learned to read ina few years, without any expenditure by the state, were closed. In Poland, where a series of patri- otic manifestations had begun, the Cossacks were sent out to disperse the crowds with their whips, and to arrest hundreds of people in the churches with their usual brutality. Men were shot in the streets of Warsaw by the end of 1861, and for the suppression of the few peasant insurrections which broke out, the horrible flogging through the double line of soldiers — that favorite punishment of Nicholas I. — was THE EMPRESS MARIE ALEXANDROVNA 151 applied. The despot that Alexander II. became in the years 1870-81 was foreshadowed in 1862.
Of all the imperial family, undoubtedly the most sym- pathetic was the Empress Marie Alexdindrovna. She was sincere, and when she said something pleasant, she meant it. The way in which she once thanked me for a little courtesy (it was after her reception of the ambassador of the United States, who had just come to St. Petersburg) deeply im- pressed me: it was not the way of a lady spoiled by cour- tesies, as an empress is supposed to be. She certainly was not happy in her home life; nor wasshe liked by the ladies of the court, who found her too severe, and could not under- stand why she should take so much to heart the étourderies of her husband. It is now known that she played a by no means unimportant part in bringing about the abolition of serfdom. But at that time her influence in this direction seems to have been little known, the Grand Duke Constan- tine and the Grand Duchess Héléne Pavlovna, who was the main support of Nicholas Milutin at the court, being considered the two leaders of the reform party in the palace spheres. The Empress was better known for the decisive part she had taken in the creation of girls’ gymnasia (high schools), which received from the outset a high standard of organization and a truly democratic character. Her friendly relations with Ushinsky, a great pedagogist, saved him from sharing the fate of all men of mark of that time, — that is, exile.
Being very well educated herself, Marie Alexandrovna did her best to give a good education to her eldest son.
_ The best men in all branches of knowledge were sought as teachers, and she even invited for that purpose Kavélin, although she knew well his friendly relations with Hérzen. - When he mentioned to her that friendship, she replied that she had no grudge against Hérzen, except for his violent — language about the Empress dowager.
152 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST The heir apparent was extremely handsome, — perhaps, even too femininely handsome. He was not proud in the least, and during the levees he used to chatter in the most comrade-like way with the pages de chambre. (I even remember, at the reception of the diplomatic corps on New Year’s Day, trying to make him appreciate the simplicity of the uniform of the ambassador of the United States as compared with the parrot-colored uniforms of the other ambassadors.) However, those who knew him well de- scribed him as profoundly egoistic, a man absolutely incapa- ble of contracting an attachment to any one. This feature was prominent in him, even more than it was in his father. As to his education, all the pains taken by his mother were of no avail. In August, 1861, his examinations, which were made in the presence of his father, proved to be a dead failure, and I remember Alexander II., at a parade of which the heir apparent was the commander, and during which he made some mistake, loudly shouting out, so that every one would hear it, ‘‘ Even that you could not learn! ” He died, as is known, at the age of twenty-two, from some disease of the spinal cord.
His brother, Alexander, who became the heir apparent in 1865, and later on was Alexander III., was a decided con- trast to Nicholas Alexandrovich. He reminded meso much of Paul I., by his face, his figure, and his contemplation of his own grandeur, that I used to say, “If he ever reigns, he will be another Paul I. in the Gatchina palace, and will have the same end as his great-grandfather had at the hands of his own courtiers.”” He obstinately refused to learn. It was rumored that Alexander II., having had so many difficulties with his brother Constantine, who was better educated than himself, adopted the policy of concentrating all his attention on the heir apparent, and neglecting the education of his other sons; however, I doubt if such was the case: Alexander Alexandrovich must have been averse ALEXANDER III 153 to any education from childhood; in fact, his spelling, which I saw in the telegrams he addressed to his bride at Copenhagen, was unimaginably bad. I cannot render here his Russian spelling, but in French he wrote, ‘‘ Heri a oncle & propos parade...les nouvelles sont mauvaisent,” and so on. He is said to have improved in his manners toward the end of his life, but in 1870, and also much later, he was a true descendant of Paul I. I knew at St. Petersburg an officer, of Swedish origin (from Finland), who had been sent to the United States to order rifles for the Russian army. On his return he had to report about his mission to Alexander Alexandrovich, who had been appointed to superintend the re-arming of the army. During this inter- view, the Tsarevich, giving full vent to his violent tem- per, began to scold the officer, who probably replied with dignity, whereupon the prince fell into a real fit of rage, insulting the officer in bad language. ‘The officer, who be- longed to that type of self-respecting but very loyal men who are frequently met with amongst the Swedish nobil- ity in Russia, left at once, and wrote a letter in which he asked the heir apparent to apologize within twenty-four hours, adding that if the apology did not come, he would shoot himself. It wasa sort of Japanese duel. Alexander _ Alexandrovich sent no excuses, and the officer kept his word. I saw him at the house of a warm friend of mine, his intimate friend, when he was expecting every minute _ to receive the apology. Next morning he was dead. The Tsar was very angry with his son, and ordered him to fol- _ low the hearse of the officer to the grave. But even this _ terrible lesson did not cure the young man of his Roménoff _ haughtiness and impetuosity.
PART THIRD SIBERIA I In the middle of May, 1862, a few weeks before our promotion, I was told one day by the captain to make up the final list of the regiments which each of us intended to join. We had the choice of all the regiments of the Guard, which we could enter with the first officer’s grade, and of the Army with the third grade of lieutenant. I took a list of our form and went the rounds of my com- rades. Every one knew well the regiment he was going to join, most of them already wearing in the garden the officer’s cap of that regiment.
“But you, Kropotkin? The artillery? The Cossacks? ” I was asked on all sides. I could not stand these questions, and at last, asking a comrade to complete the list, I went to my room to think once more over my final decision.
That I should not enter a regiment of the Quard, and give my life to parades and court balls, I had settled long © ago. My dream was to enter the university, — to study, to live the student’s life. That meant, of course, to break entirely with my father, whose ambitions were quite dif- ferent, and to rely for my living upon what I might earn by means of lessons. Thousands of Russian students live in that way, and such a life did not frighten me in the least. But how should I get over the first steps in that CHOOSING MY REGIMENT 155 life? In a few weeks I should have to leave the school, to don my own clothes, to have my own lodging, and I saw no possibility of providing even the little money which would be required for the most modest start. Then, fail- ing the university, I had been often thinking of late that I could enter the artillery academy. That would free me for two years from the drudgery of military service, and, besides the military sciences, I could study mathematics and physics. But the wind of reaction was blowing, and the officers in the academies had been treated during the ‘previous winter as if they were schoolboys; in two academies they had revolted, and in one of them they had left in a body.
My thoughts turned more and more toward Siberia. The Amur region had recently been annexed by Russia; Thad read all about that Mississippi of the East, the moun- tains it pierces, the subtropical vegetation of its tributary, the Usuri, and my thoughts went further, — to the tropical regions which Humboldt had described, and tv the great generalizations of Ritter, which I delighted to read. Be- sides, I reasoned, there is in Siberia an immense field for the application of the great reforms which have been made or are coming: the workers must be few there, and I shall ‘find a field of action to my tastes. The worst was that ‘Ishould have to separate from my brother Alexander; but 'he had been compelled to leave the University of Moscow after the last disorders, and in a year or two, I guessed ‘(and guessed rightly), in one way or another we should be together. There remained only the choice of the regiment in the Amur region. The Usurf attracted me most; but, alas! there was on the Usuri only one regiment of infantry Cossacks. A Cossack not on horseback, — that was too bad for the boy that I still was, and I settled upon “the mounted Cossacks of the Amur.”
This I wrote on the list, to the great consternation of all 156 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST my comrades. “It is so far,’”’ they said, while my friend Datroff, seizing the Officers’ Handbook, read out of it, to the horror of all present: ‘‘ Uniform, black, with a plain red collar without braids; fur bonnet made of dog’s fur or any other fur; trousers, gray.’”
“Only look at that uniform!” he exclaimed. ‘ Bother the cap!—you can wear one of wolf or bear fur; but think only of the trousers! Gray, like a soldier of the Train!’’? The consternation reached its climax after that reading.
I joked as best I could, and took the list to the captain., “‘Kropotkin must always have his joke!” he cried. “Did I not tell you that the list must be sent to the grand duke to-day?”
Astonishment and pity were depicted on his face when I told him that the list really stated my intention.
However, next day, my resolution almost gave way when I saw how Klasévsky took my decision. He had hoped to see me in the university, and had given me lessons in Latin and Greek for that purpose; and I did not dare to tell him what really prevented me from entering the university: I knew that if I told him the truth, he would offer to share with me the little that he had.; Then my father telegraphed to the director that he for bade my going to Siberia; and the matter was reported to the grand duke, who was the chief of the military schools. I was called before his assistant, and talked about the vege- tation of the Amur and like things, because I had strong reasons for believing that if I said I wanted to go to the university, and could not afford it, a bursary would be offered to me by some one of the imperial family, —an offer which by all means I wished to avoid.
It is impossible to say how all this would have ended, but an event of much importance —the great fire at St.
GREAT FIRE AT ST. PETERSBURG 157 Petersburg — brought about in an indirect way a solution of my difficulties. | ‘On the Monday after Trinity —the day of the Holy Ghost, which was that year on May 26, Old Style —a terrible fire broke out in the so-called Apraxin Dvor. The Apraxin Dvor was an immense space, more than half a mile square, which was entirely covered with small shops, — mere shanties of wood,— where all sorts of second and third hand goods were sold. Old furniture and bedding, second-hand dresses and books, poured in from every quarter of the city, and were stored in the small shanties, in the passages between them, and even on their roofs. This accumulation of inflammable materials had at its back the Ministry of the Interior and its archives, where all the documents concerning the liberation of the serfs were kept; and in the front of it, which was lined by a row of shops built of stone, was the state Bank. A narrow lane, also bordered with stone shops, separated the Aprdxin Dvor from a wing of the Corps of Pages, which was occupied by grocery and oil shops in its lower story, and had the apartments of the officers in its upper story. Almost opposite the Ministry of the Interior, on the other side of a canal, there were extensive timber yards. This laby- rinth of small shanties and the timber yards opposite took fire almost at the same moment, at four o’clock in the _ afternoon.
If there had been wind on that day, half the city would have perished in the flames, including the Bank, several Ministries, the Gostinoi Dvor (another great block of shops on the Nevsky Prospekt), the Corps of Pages, and the National Library.
I was that afternoon at the Corps, dining at the house of one of our officers, and we dashed to the spot as soon as we saw from the windows the first clouds of smoke rising 158 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST in our immediate neighborhood. The sight was terrific, Like an immense snake, rattling and whistling, the fire threw itself in all directions, right and left, enveloped the shanties, and suddenly rose in a huge column, darting out its whistling tongues to lick up more shanties with their contents. Whirlwinds of smoke and fire were formed; and when the whirls of burning feathers from the bedding shops began to sweep about the space, it became ‘impossible to remain any longer inside the burning market. The whole had to be abandoned.
The authorities had entirely lost their heads. There was not, at that time, a single steam fire engine in St. Petersburg, and it was workmen who suggested bringing one from the iron works of K¢élpino, situated twenty miles by rail from the capital. When the engine reached the railway station, it was the people who dragged it to the conflagration. Of its four lines of hose, one was damaged by an unknown hand, and the other three were directed upon the Ministry of the Interior.
The grand dukes came to the spot and went away again. Late in the evening, when the Bank was out of danger, the Emperor also made his appearance, and said, what every one knew already, that the Corps of Pages was now the key of the battle, and must be saved by all means. It was evident that if the Corps had taken fire, the Na tional Library and half of the Nevsky Prospekt would have gone.
It was the crowd, the people, who did everything to prevent the fire from spreading further and further. There was a moment when the Bank was seriously menaced. The goods cleared from the shops opposite were thrown into the Sadévaya street, and lay in great heaps upon the walls of the left wing of the Bank. The articles which coy- ered the street itself continually took fire, but the people, — roasting there in an almost unbearable heat, prevented the GREAT FIRE AT ST. PETERSBURG 159 flames from being communicated to the piles of goods on the other side. They swore at all the authorities, seeing that there was not a pump on the spot. ‘‘ What are they all doing at the Ministry of the Interior, when the Bank and the Foundlings’ House are going to take fire? They have all lost their heads!’”? ‘* Where is the chief of police that he cannot send a fire brigade to the Bank?” they said. I knew the chief, General Annenkoff, personally, as I had met him once or twice at our sub-inspector’s house, where he came with his brother, the well-known literary critic, and I volunteered to find him. I found him, indeed, walking aimlessly in a street; and when I reported to him the state of affairs, incredible though it may seem, it was to me, a boy, that he gave the order to move one of the fire brigades from the Ministry to the Bank. I exclaimed, of course, that the men would never listen to me, and I asked for a written order; but General Annenkoff had not, or pretended not to have, a scrap of paper, so that I re- quested one of our officers, L. L. Gosse, to come with me to transmit the order. We at last prevailed upon the cap- tain of one fire brigade — who swore at all the world and at his chiefs — to move his men to the Bank.
The Ministry itself was not on fire; it was the archives which were burning, and many boys, chiefly cadets and “pages, together with a number of clerks, carried bundles of papers out of the burning building and loaded them into -eabs. Often a bundle would fall out, and the wind, taking possession of its leaves, would strew them about the square.
“Through the smoke a sinister fire could be seen raging in the timber yards on the other side of the canal.
; The narrow lane which separated the Corps of Pages from the Apr4xin Dvor was in a deplorable state. The shops which lined it were full of brimstone, oil, turpentine, and the like, and immense tongues of fire of many hues, thrown out by explosions, licked the roofs of the wing of 160 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUTIONIST the Corps, which bordered the lane on its other side. The windows and the pilasters under the roof began already to smoulder, while the pages and some cadets, after having cleared the lodgings, pumped water through a small fire engine, which received at long intervals scanty supplies from old-fashioned barrels which had to be filled with ladles. A couple of firemen who stood on the hot roof continually shouted out, “ Water! Water!” in tones which were simply heart-rending. I could not stand these cries, and I rushed into the Saddvaya street, where by sheer force I compelled the driver of one of the barrels belonging to a police fire-brigade to enter our yard, and to supply our pump with water. But when I attempted to do the same once more, I met with an absolute refusal from the driver. ‘‘T shall be court-martialed,” he said, ‘if I obey you.” On all sides my comrades urged me, “Go and find some- body, — the chief of the police, the grand duke, any one, — and tell them that without water we shall have to abandon the Corps to the fire.” ‘Ought we not to report to our director? ”’? somebody would remark. ‘‘ Bother the whole lot! you won’t find them with a lantern. Go and do it yourself.”, T went once more in search of General Annenkoff, and was at last told that he must be in the yard of the Bank. Several officers stood there around a general in whom I recognized the governor-general of St. Petersburg, Prince Suvoroff. The gate, however, was locked, and a Bank official who stood at it refused to let me in. I insisted, menaced, and finally was admitted. Then I went straight to Prince Suvéroff, who was writing a note on the shoulder of his aide-de-camp. | When I reported to him the state of affairs, his first question was, ‘Who has sent you?” ‘ Nobody — the comrades,” was my reply. ‘So you say the Corps will soon be on fire?” “Yes.” He started at once, and, GREAT FIRE AT ST. PETERSBURG 161 seizing in the street an empty hatbox, covered his head with it, and ran full speed to the lane. Empty barrels, straw, wooden boxes, and the like covered the lane, be- tween the flames of the oil shops on the one side and the buildings of our Corps, of which the window frames and the pilasters were smouldering, on the other side. Prince Suvoroff acted resolutely. ‘‘ There is a company of soldiers in your garden,’’ he said to me: ‘take a detachment and clear that lane —at once. A hose from the steam engine will be brought here immediately. Keep it playing. I trust it to you personally.”
It was not easy to move the soldiers out of our garden. They had cleared the barrels and boxes of their contents, and with their pockets full of coffee, and with conical lumps of sugar concealed in their képis, they were enjoying the warm night under the trees, cracking nuts. No one cared to move till an officer interfered. ‘The lane was cleared, and the pump kept going. ‘The comrades were delighted, and every twenty minutes we relieved the men who directed the jet of water, standing by their side ina terrible scorching heat.
About three or four in the morning it was evident that bounds had been put to the fire; the danger of its spread- -ing to the Corps was over, and after having quenched our thirst with half a dozen glasses of tea, in a small ‘ white 'inn” which happened to be open, we fell, half dead from ‘fatigue, on the first bed that we found unoccupied in the hospital of the Corps.
Next morning I woke up early and went to see the site of the conflagration. On my return to the Corps I met the Grand Duke Mikhael, whom I accompanied, as was my duty, on his round. The pages, with their faces quite black from the smoke, with swollen eyes and inflamed lids, ‘some of them with their hair burned, raised their heads from the pillows. It was hard to recognize them. They 162 MEMOIRS OF A REVOLUSIONIST were proud, though,,of feeling that they had not been merely “white hands,” and had worked as hard as any one else.
This visit of the grand duke settled my difficulties. He asked me why I conceived that fancy of going to the Amur, — whether I had friends there, whether the governor-general knew me; and learning that I had no relatives in Siberia, and knew nobody there, he exclaimed, “But how are you going, then? They may send you toa lonely Cossack village. What will you do there? I had better write about you to the governor-general, to recom- mend you.”
After such an offer I was sure that my father’s objec- tions would be removed, — and so it proved. I was free to go to Siberia.
This great conflagration became a turning-point not only in the policy of Alexander II., but also in the history of Russia for that part of the century. That it was not a mere accident was self-evident. Trinity and the day of the Holy Ghost are great holidays in Russia, and there was nobody inside the market except a few watchmen; be- sides, the Apraxin market and the timber yards took fire at the same time, and the conflagration at St. Petersburg was followed by similar disasters in several provincial towns. The fire was lit by somebody, but by whom? This question remains unanswered to the present time.
Katkoff, the ex-Whig, who was inspired with personal hatred of Hérzen, and especially of Bakunin, with whom he had once to fight a duel, on the very day after the: fire accused the Poles and the Russian revolutionists of being the cause of it; and that opinion prevailed at St. Petersburg and at Moscow.
Poland was preparing then for the revolution which broke put in the following January, and the sezret revolutionary THE FIRE NOT AN ACCIDENT 163 government had concluded an alliance with the London refugees; it had its men in the very heart of the St. Peters- burg administration. Only a short time after the confla- gration occurred, the lord lieutenant of Poland, Count Liiders, was shot at by a Russian officer; and when the Grand Duke Constantine was nominated in his place (with the intention, it was said, of making Poland a separate kingdom for Constantine), he also was immediately shot at, on June 26. Similar attempts were made in August against the Marquis Wielepdlsky, the Polish leader of the pro- Russian Union party. Napoleon III. maintained among the Poles the hope of an armed intervention in favor of their independence. In such conditions, judging from the ordinary narrow military standpoint, to destroy the Bank of Russia and several Ministries, and to spread a panic in the capital, might have been considered a good plan of warfare; but there never was the slightest scrap of evidence forth- coming to support this hypothesis.