Preface
A YEAR ago, in "The Russian Army and its Campaigns in Turkey in 1877-78," I endeavored to explain to military readers the organization of the Russian army, to narrate the events of the war I had been sent to observe, and to state certain professional conclusions which that war justified.
In the following pages I have attempted to give a few sketches, which, crude and imperfect as they are, may yet serve to give some idea of the soul which animates the Russian military machine, and tell what manner of man the Russian soldier is, and how he lives and moves and has his being.
To analyse the characteristics of a large body of men is always a difficult matter, and, moreover, in writing publicly of a people from whom the greatest kindness and hospitality have been received, one runs the risk either of offending those who have bestowed this kindness, by giving too great prominence to unpleasant truths, or else of being false to the public which is addressed, by stating only the iv
Preface.
virtues of the people described. I have certainly had no intention of limiting myself to the latter, and I hope I have not been indiscreet in stating the former. Should these sketches ever come to the notice of those who treated me as one of themselves during the campaign in Turkey, I feel sure they will see that whatever I have written in criticism of their countrymen is wholly free from malice, and is only what I have often said to them and they to me in friendly conversation ; and they need have no fear of having it made public. If I have not shown the Russian soldier to be above all manly, generous, and warm-hearted, then I have certainly failed to transcribe the picture of him which remains in my own mind, and have done injustice to a people whose hospitality to individual Americans is no less conspicuous than their unvarying friendship for the United States as a nation.
F. V. G.
Washington, June, 1880.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Tsar I
II. The Russian Soldier 16
Chapter I. The Tsar
In attempting to give any description of the characteristics of the Russian Army, one naturally begins with the Tsar, who is at once the head and the object of the whole organization. It is in Russia alone, of all civilized countries, that at this day we find the idea of personal allegiance existing in its primitive purity, undisturbed by the tendencies of modern representative government. This personal allegiance is the corner-stone of the whole fabric of society in Russia, and it has been strengthened rather than weakened by the changes which have taken place in the development of the country since the time of Peter the Great. In other countries the soldier fights for his country, for the idea that is so clearly crystallized in the German motto " Fur Gott und Vaterland ; " but the Russian sol-
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dier fights for God and the Tsar. To his mind the Tsar is specially appointed by God as his Viceroy to govern that large portion of the earth called Russia, and devotion to the Tsa'r includes all that we understand in the word patriotism.
I arrived at the little Bulgarian village of Biela, where the Emperor was then quartered, on the afternoon of August 5, 1877. Winding my way through the crooked little streets I inquired for the Emperor's headquarters, and finally reached a courtyard surrounded by a fence in front of whose entrance two sentinels were pacing. I addressed an officer in the yard whom I supposed to be the aide-de-camp on duty, stating my name and position, and asking him to send my card in to the Minister of War. He politely invited me to enter the yard, took my card, and quickly returned to say that the minister would be out in a few minutes, and would present me to the Emperor before dinner which was about to be served. I was covered with the dust of a ride of twenty-four consecutive hours across the parched plains of Roumania in a telega,* and I was somewhat appalled at the idea of being presented in such a condition ; but, on asking if it were not possible for me to wash my hands and face, I was assured with a good-natured laugh that there
* A small Russian postchaise on four wheels without springs.
The Tsar.
would not be time, but I need give myself no uneasiness as it was a daily occurrence for some aide-de-camp or other officer to arrive covered with dirt just at dinner time. Wiping off a part of the dust from my face with a handkerchief, I looked about the place where the Emperor of Russia was quartered. It was a plain little courtyard, about a hundred feet across, on one side of which was a small one-story house built partly of wood and partly of mud, in which the Minister of* War and his office were quartered. Opposite this was an immense tent, formed of three hospital tents joined end to end, in which were tables set for dinner. At one side, partly concealed by a little hedge, were two ordinary officers' tents in which the Emperor lived. In the courtyard, officers of various ranks, ministers, generals, aide-de-camps, officers of the escort, etc., were beginning to assemble. I was introduced to a number of them, and presently to the Minister of War, with whom I was talking when the Emperor appeared. Every one stopped, faced in the direction of the Emperor's tents, cracked his heels together, and carried his hands to his cap to salute. The Emperor was dressed in an ordinary general's undress uniform without the sword. He walked slowly, coming from behind the hedge in front of his tents, stopped to say something to the men composing the band of music, who replied with a simul-
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taneous shout, and then came among the officers, bowing in return to their salutes and extending his hand to some of them, who acknowledged the favor by loyally kissing his shoulder. I was immediately taken up by the Minister of War and presented. The Emperor asked a few questions concerning my journey, etc., and then motioned to dinner. In accordance with the invariable Russian custom, there was a side table containing Vodka and other brandies and whiskies, cheese, caviare, small fishes fried in oil, and other appetizers. After partaking of this preliminary meal, known as " zakooska," we went into the dining tent where there were two long tables containing about eighty places. The Emperor sat at the middle of one of these ; on his right a white-headed veteran, General Suwaroff, Prince Italiisky, grandson of the famous one whose deeds at Ismail are familiar to all readers of Byron ; on his left General Milutin, Minister of War, and on either side of them other generals in the order of their rank. Opposite the Emperor sat General Von Werder, Military Agent of Germany, and on either side of him a Roumanian officer just arrived, and myself — the only three foreign officers present — and beyond us other Russian officers. As we sat down the band struck up an air outside the tent, and continued playing at intervals throughout the dinner. The service was of silver, the cups lined
The Tsar.
with gold, and each piece bore the imperial cipher and the letter N. It evidently was not new, and had in fact seen service in the war of 1828 with the Emperor Nicholas. The servants wore the crown livery of dark blue coats, bordered with gold fringe, covered with double-headed eagles embroidered in black silk, but otherwise the surroundings of the table were of the plainest. The dinner was simple, soup, joint, entree, compote and coffee, and a small allowance of the light wines of France and Germany. Conversation was general and unrestrained, principally concerning the incidents of Gourko's first passage of the Balkans from which one or two aides had just returned. Just after the compote (preserved peaches or some other fruit) was finished there seemed to be a silence* when the Emperor said something in Russian and the whole company responded with one loud simultaneous shout. I looked up startled and saw the Emperor staring at me and laughing very heartily at my confusion. He explained that it was the signal for smoking, and that I must learn to answer with the others. The words were Vweenemai pah-h-hto which every one answered tronn ; vweenemai patronn being the Russian command " Take cartridges." After this little pleasantry every one produced from his pocket his silver cigarette case, lighted a cigarette, and smoked, and sipped his
Army Life in Russia.
coffee. Candles were then lighted, and a large package was brought and placed before a grayheaded old courtier, Count Adlerberg, the Minister of the Court, who immediately began reading the comments of the various newspapers of London, Paris, Berlin and Vienna upon the progress of the war. These were articles which had been carefully selected by an official of the Foreign office present at headquarters, from the files of papers brought the previous day by a courier. They had all been translated into French, and were read off in a monotonous tone. Occasionally there was an interjection at some opinion favorable or unfavorable to the Russian cause, and a slight discussion at the termination of some of the articles, but most of them were received in silence though listened to with attention.
It seemed to me, fresh from the bustling rough and ready world of America, where people read their own newspapers, a strange scene.
The autocratic ruler of eighty-seven millions of people, scattered over a territory comprising onefifth of the inhabited portion of the entire surface of the earth, sitting here in a tent in a rude village of a foreign land, whither he had come to free his fellow christians from the yoke of bondage to their hereditary enemies, surrounded by his ministers and generals, and listening to the news from the outside world and the opinions formed in the editorial
The Tsar.
rooms of newspaper offices ! We had news from England, then from Austria, from Germany, from France. I almost wondered whether I was really in the midst of the every-day bustling life of the 19th century, or whether I was not assisting at some slightly varied rehearsal of one of Shakspeare's plays, so thoroughly medieval did the scene appear to me. After the news had all been read there was a little conversation, and then the Emperor rose to leave the table. Every one stood up to salute him, and he passed along saying a word or two to this or that person. As he passed me he stopped and said he supposed I wished to join the army and see the active operations. I replied that such was my desire, with his permission. He then said with a certain emphasis that his brother had the entire command of the army, he himself being only a spectator ; that his brother was expected here in a few days, and that I could then make arrangements to return with him to the army headquarters proper.
After the Emperor passed out the officers gradually dispersed to their tents or quarters. I found that my baggage had been directed to a deserted Turkish house, a few hundred yards off, and installed there, and I was informed by the aide-de-camp on duty that by the Emperor's invitation I would be expected at his table so long as I remained at his headquarters, and that coffee was served at eight in
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the morning, breakfast at noon, dinner at six, and a cup of tea for those who desired it, at nine in the evening.
The dinner was the principal gathering of the day at the Emperor's headquarters, and varied but little from that just described, except that the reading of newspaper articles only took place on the days following the arrival of a courier. The Emperor ordinarily rose between seven and eight in the morning, took coffee in his own tent, and was busily engaged with his ministers until noon, when he came to breakfast with his suite ; this meal was short, and he then went out for a drive in an open barouche with one of his family, if any were present, if not, with Prince Suwarof or some other general; in his drive he always included a visit to the hospitals, if any were near, or to some of the troops ; returning to his tent, he devoted three or four hours to work, then dined, and after dinner, if before sunset, took a short walk, and then retired to his tent, where none but the most intimate of his followers were admitted. His life varied but little from this throughout the whole campaign. He was with the army at Kishineff at the time of the declaration of war, April 24th, but returned to St. Petersburg a week later. A month afterward, however, he came back to the army again, reaching Ploiesti, in Roumania, on the 8th of May. For the next seven
The Tsar.
months — until after Plevna had fallen on December loth — he remained continually with the army, not commanding it, though he was advised as to all its affairs, but sharing in more than the proportion of a sovereign its hardships and dangers, animating it by his presence, and extending to those who reaped its misfortunes in wounds and sickness his sympathy and his aid.
The Minister of War, the Minister of the Court, and the Chief of the " Third Section," or Secret Police, were always with him. Prince Gortschakoff's age prevented him from coming to camp, but he established himself at Bucharest, the nearest town. Communication with St. Petersburg was kept up by incessant telegraphing and by means of special couriers leaving each place three times per week, and, traveling without rest by rail and post, accomplishing the journey in four to five days.
During the greater part of the time the Emperor was in the possession of good health, although suffering at times from bilious fevers, particularly during the autumn rains. His headquarters were shifted from one village to another, to be as near as possible to" the most important operations of the troops. During the summer he lived with comparative comfort in a tent, but as the cold autumnal rains came on he was forced to seek such shelter as the miserable huts of the villages afforded. His
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manner was always the same — dignified, courteous, and apparently calm ; yet even a casual observer could detect the weight of care and responsibility which seemed to rest so heavily upon him. The expression of his face grew still sadder as the summer and autumn wore on and Plevna held fast, and he gradually lost flesh — more than thirty pounds — giving him a gaunt look. Only once he broke down, and, as I was told, could not restrain his tears as the list of killed in his guard at the battle of Gorni-Dubnik was read out to him — every name being as familiar to him as his own, and comprising those who had grown up about him from boyhood. Just after this battle he rode over one Sunday to thank the troops who had taken part in it. I was then at General Gourko's headquarters, who commanded these troops, and rode out with him to meet the Emperor and his suite. They arrived about noon — the more important officers in carriages, and the others and the escort of cossacks on horseback. Leaving his carriage and mounting his horse the Emperor rode forward, followed by his suite, toward the men who were drawn up for parade. As he rode down the lines, saluting the men with " Good morning," and they answering back in long shouts — stopping now and then to talk with some of the officers or distribute crosses to the men — the men followed him with eyes
The Tsar.
1 1 stretched to their utmost, and with awe and veneration depicted on their faces. Studying their intent expressions one got some insight into the thoughts of these simple-minded, faithful creatures, and saw that it still was possible in this sceptical age for men to look up to another man with personal adoration. The enthusiasm was not forced — nowhere was there an indifferent face — every man fastened his eyes on the Emperor, and kept them there so long as he was near him. For a moment they seemed to forget every one else but the Tsar who actually was before them in the flesh. Their expression was not so much one of joy as of absentminded, wondering veneration. I have never seen a similar look on men's faces elsewhere, and at other reviews of the same troops by generals or princes the same sort of ceremony was gone through, but the men never had the same thoughts written on their faces as they had when they saw the Tsar.
After the troops had all been visited an open air mass was held. One division of about ten thousand men was drawn up on the plain west of Plevna, and about two miles from the high range of hills on which the Turkish batteries stood ; the division was formed on three sides of a square, with a few squadrons of cavalry on each flank. In the centre stood the Emperor, alone and bareheaded, slightly
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in advance of his suite; in front of him was the priest in gorgeous robes, with a golden crucifix and the Bible laid on a pile of drums which answered for an altar; a short distance to one side was a choir consisting of twenty or thirty soldiers, with fine musical voices. Every one uncovered his head, and the service began in that slow, sad chant which is peculiar to the Greek church ; at the name of Jesus every one of the vast crowd crossed himself. On the opposite hills, as the service went on, could be seen large numbers of Turks congregating in wonder at the assembly of this large number of men. Finally came the prayer for the repose of those who had died in the battle a few days before ; the Emperor knelt on the ground, resting his head on the hilt of his sword, every one followed his example, and the whole division knelt there with their guns in one hand, crossing themselves with the other, and following in a subdued voice the words of the chant.
Nothing could give a clearer perception of the relations between the Tsar and his men than this strangely impressive scene ; the Gosudar Imperator (Our Lord the Emperor), surrounded by his people, with arms in their hands, facing their hereditary enemies in religion and politics, and chanting in slow monotone, whose periods were marked by the booming of distant cannon, the requiem for their
The Tsar.
dead comrades. The Russian people have no fewer daily sins to answer for than other people, but the feeling which binds the lower classes to their Tsar is one of purely religious enthusiasm and veneration, which finds no counterpart elsewhere in these latter days. The west of Europe and America have succeeded, without substituting anything better for it, in destroying that faith which constitutes the poetry of the Christian religion ; in Russia, on the other hand, we find only primitive faith — or else nihilism— among the middle and lower classes ; modern scepticism, which discards religion but respects good government and morals, has taken no root among them. With them the divine right of kings is still a living principle.
It would be idle to pretend that the upper classes, which travel widely, speak many languages, habituate Paris, and lose their distinctive national traits in cosmopolitan intercourse, have much of the reality of this religious feeling ; they attend the church services with great regularity, and make the sign of the cross at the proper moments ; but they do it in a perfunctory way, and with many signs of weariness on their faces. But to the class from which the soldiers come, the religion of miracles and ceremonies which they are taught, is the most real thing of their lives, and on earth it all centers in the Tsar.
Army Life in Russia.
No one who saw the Emperor at any time during these long months that he remained with the army could doubt his honesty, or his firm conviction of right in the cause he had espoused. He is a man who lacks the iron will and energy of his great progenitor Peter, or even of his own father Nicholas, but he is endowed with a greatness and tenderness of heart which few autocratic rulers have possessed ; he began his reign with an act of justice (in freeing the serfs) the greatness of which as the individual act of one man is equalled but by one other — the emancipation by Abraham Lincoln — in our times ; he is closing it by another act of justice only less great — the effort to free his co-religionists from the intolerable oppression of the Turk. No more generous or holy crusade was ever undertaken on the part of a strong race to befriend a weak one. So all true Russians believe ; so even a sceptical foreigner is forced to admit after seeing and appreciating the sacrifices which the effort entails, the enthusiasm with which these sacrifices are endured, and the small returns which it brings in material benefits. The strong sense of right is his only support ; no mere ambition could suffice to sustain him in the terrible trials and responsibilities which his acts have brought upon him. The reorganization of the landed system and of the administration of justice, and the other radical reforms of the early part
The Tsar.
of his reign, called forth the opposition of the nobles to such an extent as nearly to cost him his throne ; and while this opposition is hardly yet dead, these very reforms have given rise to the most chimerical aspirations and the most bitter disappointments ; to-day in his later years (he is the longest-lived by two years of all his race) his life is in constant danger from those on whom he has conferred such great benefits, while his efforts in behalf of the Bulgarians have excited the suspicion, jealousy and hatred of half the nations of Europe. Weighed down with the deepest sense of the responsibility of his acts, keenly alive to the ingratitude of a portion of his own people, and to the taunts and suspicions of foreigners, his only consolation must be in his profound conviction of right, and his belief that the God of Justice is on his side and will not let his labors go for naught, but will in His own good time give peace to his own people, and happiness to those of his own creed whom he has striven to befriend.
Chapter II. The Russian Soldier
The peasant class — or moozhiks — which supplies the great body of Russian soldiers, ever ready to do battle for God and the Tsar, leads a hard life. The peasant is born in a little village composed of several hundred log huts of one story each and thatched with straw, containing but one room in which a family of five or six persons live, eat, and sleep, and a large part of whose space is occupied by an enormous flat stove, on top of which most of the family pass the winter's nights. The only building in the village which has any pretence to good appearance — the only one which to a person passing in a railway train in winter denotes the existence of a village at all — is the village church, a large white structure with bright green roof and gilded cupolas ; within it is a mass of pictures, heavily gilded and bejewelled altar-pieces, and swinging censers — an interior "calculated to overawe the imagination by contrast with the poverty of view of the rest of the village. The surrounding country is a rolling plain
unbroken in any direction by peak or mountain and
The Russian Soldier.
1/ usually destitute of trees, wrapped in an endless mantle of snow for half the year, and bright with green grass or yellow wheat for the other half. The railroads are few in number and invariably leave the villages several miles on either side ; the post roads are equally few and the post infrequent. There is no bustling activity in the villages, nor are there striking features in the landscape to develop the imagination or engender habits of daring or self-reliance. Everything is on a dead level, benumbing the senses ; the sky during the greater part of the year is of a dull leaden color, and seems to bear upon the spirits with all the weight of lead.
In this depressing atmosphere the peasant grows up, attending schools in the winter months, doing his share of the farming of the commune during the summer, listening to superstitious tales in the winter's evenings, imbibing a religion of forms and ceremonies, miracles and superstitions, and knowing little of the outside world except that he lives in a land governed by a ruler of unlimited greatness called the Tsar. On attaining the age of twenty, his name is placed in the urn to be drawn for military service, and if the lot falls upon him, he leaves his village and is but little heard of for the next six years ; at the end of this period (if no war is on hand) he returns to his village on permanent furlough for the remaining nine years of his mili-
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tary service, but liable to be called up at any moment to rejoin his regiment. At the age of thirty-five his military service is over, he receives his share of the commune's property to work, marries, builds himself a hut like the others, breeds a family, works through his life, and dies.
His disposition, character, and habits are determined by these dull, sombre surroundings, a cheerless climate, monotonous village life, and a superstitious religion. He is sallow in complexion, lank in figure, has straight yellow hair, and a heavy expression of face ; he wears high boots at all seasons of the year, and dark cloth trowsers tucked into them ; above this, in summer, a bright red shirt worn outside his trowsers and gathered in at the waist by a belt ; on his head a slouchy cap with a peaked visor. In winter, he is wrapped, both day and night, in a long " shuba " or pelisse, of sheep skin, with the wool on the inside, reaching from his neck to his heels, and his head is enveloped in a woolen " bashlik " or muffler.
His personal habits are to a certain extent cleanly, since they include a steam bath once a week, but, on the other hand, the bath by no means involves a change of linen, and his greasy sheep-skin pelisse is worn half a lifetime. The sanitary condition of his village is at once primitive and filthy, and but for the cold winters would gener-
The Russian Soldier.
His diet is as monotonous as his life ; once a week, or twice at the most, he has meat, fresh beef or mutton, made into a soup or a stew. Of vegetables he has a variety, but cares little for any of them except cabbage and onions. His great staple article of food is a gruel made of unbolted buckwheat, called " kahsha" his taste for which never diminishes. With this and an abundance of heavy black bread, and an occasional taste of fish or meat, he is abundantly satisfied. His disposition is gentle and good-natured, even his brawls being of the maudlin and foolish and not of the fighting character ; he is as incapable of taking care of himself as a child ; all his important actions are determined for him by the village commune, whose openair meetings are full of noisy arguments, but from whose decision no appeal is ever thought of. The whole nature of his communistic village life precludes the idea of striking out on his own responsibility to make himself independent in fortune ; he has the benefit of his own labor on the land allotted to him, but otherwise his individuality is completely destroyed. He is very gregarious, fond of singing and of reciting or listening to long stories, and with all his sombreness of character, he has a latent fund of mirth and humor peculiarly his own.
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He leads a sober, temperate life for months, but celebrates the great religious festivals, such as Christmas and Easter, by a prolonged drunk, undertaken apparently to relieve the monotony of his existence, and infuse some ray of cheerfulness or at least of excitement into his unvaried life. The liquor is the native vodka, a pure rye brandy, which does him but little harm, and when the celebrating is over he returns contentedly to his work.
I do not know of anything which so pithily illustrates the submissiveness and dependence of the character of the Russian peasant as the following anecdote, related by Leroy-Beaulieu in a recent number of the Revue des Deux Mondes, and which I reproduce in full.
A satirical novelette, called " Two Generals on an Island," was read to some peasants one evening by the village schoolmaster. A synopsis of the story was as follows : " Two generals awake on a desert island ; they know not what is to become of them, when suddenly they perceive a moozhik asleep. ' Come on, you lazy fellow,' they cry to him, ' what are you doing lying there? Jump up and get us some dinner.' The peasant obeys, catches a hare, cooks it and serves it for dinner. ' Well,' say the generals, ' there is no house here. Are we going to live in the open air like savages ? Come, you idiot (doorak), make us a house,' and the peasant takes
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