'Excuse me,' I went on ; 'the depth of my guilt is not the question. But if I am a murderer, I don't want to pass for a thief. I don't want people to say, even by way of defence, that I did soand-so under the influence of drink.'
'If my son, my own son, were as brazen as you, I should myself ask the Tsar to banish him to Siberia.'
At this point the Commissioner of Police struck in with some incoherent nonsense. It is a pity that Golitsyn junior was not present ; he would have had a chance to air his rhetoric.
All this, as a matter of course, led to nothing.
We stayed in the room for another quarter of an hour, and spent the time, undeterred by the earnest representations of the police-officers, in warm embraces and a long farewell. I never saw any of them again, except Obolensky, before my return from Vyatka.
1 )
We had to face our departure. Prison was in a sense a continuation of our former life; but with our departure for the wilds, it broke off short. Our little band of youthful friends was parting asunder. Our exile was sure to last for several years. Where and how, if ever, should me meet again ? One felt regret for that past life - one had been forced to leave it so suddenly, without saying goodbye. Of a meeting with Ogarev I had no hope. Two of my intimate friends secured an interview with me towards the end, but I wanted something more.
16
I wished to see once more the girl who had cheered me before and to press her hand as I had pressed it in the churchyard nine months earlier. At that interview I intended to part with the past and greet the future.
We did meet for a few minutes on 9 April 183), the day before my departure into exile.
P R I S O N A N D E X I L E
long did I keep that day sacred in memory ; i t is one o f the red-letter days of my life.
But why does the recollection of that day and all the bright and happy days of my past life recall so much that is terrible ? I see a grave, a wreath of dark-red roses, two children whom I am leading by the hand, torch-light, a band of exiles, the moon, a warm sea beneath a mountain ; I hear words spoken which I cannot understand, and yet they tear my heart.5
All, all, has passed away 1
CHAPTER VI
Exile - A Chief Constable - The Volga - Perm 1
O N the morning of 10 April 183 5, a police-officer conducted me to the Governor's palace, where my parents were allowed to take leave of me in the private part of the office.
This was bound to be an uncomfortable and painful scene.
Spies and clerks swarmed round us ; we listened while his instructions were read aloud to the police-agent who was to go with me; it was impossible to exchange a word unwatched - in short, more painful and galling surroundings cannot be imagined. It was a relief when the carriage started at last along the Vladimirka River.
Per me si va nella citta dolente,
Per me si va nell' eterno dolore.l
I wrote this couplet on the wall of one of the post-houses ; it suits the vestibule of Hell and the road to Siberia equally well.
One of my intimate friends had promised to meet me at an inn seven versts from Moscow.
I proposed to the police-agent that he should have a glass of brandy there; we were at a safe distance from Moscow, and he accepted. We went in, but my friend was not there. I put off our start by every means in my power; but at last my companion was 5· Herzen's wife,
died at Nice in 1852 and was buried there under the circumstances
described.
1. Dante, Infe:rno, Canto III.
188
C H I L DH O O D, Y O U T H AND E X I L E
unwilling t o wait longer, and the driver was touching up the horses, when suddenly a troika 2 came galloping straight up to the door. I rushed out - and met two strangers ; they were merchants' sons out for a spree and made some noise as they got off their vehicle. All along the road to Moscow I could not see a single moving spot, nor a single human being. I felt it bitter to get into the carriage and start. But I gave the driver a quarterrouble, and off we flew like an arrow from the bow.
We put up nowhere : the orders were that not less than 200
versts were to be covered every twenty-four hours. That would have been tolerable, at any other season ; but it was the beginning of April, and the road was covered with ice in some places, and with water and mud in others ; and it got worse and worse with each stage of our advance towards Siberia.
2
My first adventure happened at Pokrov.
We had lost some hours owing to the ice on the river, which cut off all communication with the other side. My guardian was eager to get on, when the post-master at Pokrov suddenly declared that there were no fresh horses. My keeper produced his passport, which stated that horses must be forthcoming all along the road ; he was told that the horses were engaged for the Under-Secretary of the Home Office. He began, of course, to wrangle and make a noise ; and then they both went off together to get horses from the local peasants.
Getting tired of waiting for their return in the post-master's dirty room, I went out at the gate and began to walk about in front of the house. It was nine months since I had taken a walk without the presence of a sentry.
I had been walking half an hour when a man came up to me; he was wearing uniform without epaulettes and a blue medalribbon. He stared very hard at me, walked past, turned round at once, and asked me in an insolent manner :
'Is it you who are going to Perm with a police-officer ?'
'Yes,' I answered, still walking.
'Excuse me ! excuse me I How does the man dare • • • ?'
'Whom have I the honour of speaking to ? '
'I a m the chief constable o f this town,' replied the stranger, and 2. Three horses harnessed abreast form a troika.
P R I S O N A N D E X I L E
his voice showed how deeply he felt his own social importance.
'The Under-Secretary may arrive at any moment, and here, if you please, there are political prisoners walking about the streets I What an idiot that policeman is I '
'May I trouble you to address your observations to the man himself ?'
'Address him ? I shall arrest him and order him a hundred lashes, and send you on in charge of someone else.'
Without waiting for the end of his speech, I nodded and walked back quickly to the post-house. Sitting by the window, I could hear his loud angry voice as he threatened my keeper, who excused himself but did not seem seriously alarmed. Presently they came into the room together I I did :not turn round but went on looking out of the window.
From their conversation I saw at once that the chief constable was dying to know all about the circumstances of my banishment. As I kept up a stubborn silence, the official began an impersonal address, intended equally for me and my keeper.
We get no sympathy. What pleasure is it to me, pray, to quarrel with a· policeman or to inconvenience a gentleman whom I never set eyes on before in my life ? But I have a great responsibility, in my position here. Whatever happens, I get the blame.
If public funds are stolen, they attack me; if the church catches fire, they attack me: if there are too many drunk men in the streets, I suffer for it; if too little whisky is drunk,3 I suffer for that too.' He was pleased with his last remark and went on more cheerfully : 'It is lucky you met me, but you might have met the Secretary; and if you had walked past him, he would have said :