Vassili Verestchagin : painter, soldier, traveler : autobiographical sketches

Front matter

VASSILI VERESTCHAGIN.

REVISED EDITION

VASSILl VERESTCHAGIN

II

My good friend General Hall introduced me to Generals Nepokoitchitski, Levitski, and others ; and also, to my great astonishment, to General Skobeleff the younger. “ I knew a Skobeleff in Turkestan,” said I. “ I am he.” “Is it possible you have aged so much ? We are old acquaintances, then.” Skobeleff had, in fact, changed very much ; he had acquired a more manly appearance, and had adopted the bearing of a general, and to some extent a general’s authoritative tone. In talking to me, however, he soon fell into the old friendly manner. He had just arrived. The two Crosses of the Order of St. George wdiich he had won in Turkestan were the subjects of many witticisms, and some one said that he must now show that he deserved them. This phrase, I remember, met with general approval and passed from mouth to mouth, as did also the assertion that the boyish Skobeleff could not be trusted with even a company of soldiers. When Skobeleff heard that I was going with his father, he bade me tell him that his son would soon join him. He had been appointed chief of staff to his father, Dmitri Ivanovitch Skobeleff, who was in command of the advance guard, — an appointment which was an intentional disgrace, considering his rank.

The detachment commanded by the elder Skobeleff was composed of two brigades, the first of Vv^hich consisted of a regiment of Don Cossacks and a regiment of Kuban Cossacks, while the second v/as made up of Vladicaucasians, Ossetes, and Ingushes. The first brigade was commanded by Colonel Tutolmin, a prudent and excellent man, but excessively fond of the sound of his own voice ; the second by Colonel Wulfert,

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who had been made Knight of the Order of St. George for his distinguished services in the storming of Tashkend. Wulfert was as silent as Tutolmin was loquacious.

The following were the officers in command of the several regiments : — Of the Don Cossacks, Denis Orloff, a lively, sympathetic fellow and a good comrade ; of the Kuban Cossacks, Kucharenko (son of the General Kucharenko, who is well known in the Caucasus), an officer who had all the look of a bold Caucasian, though, as it turned out, he was in a bad state of health ; of the Vladicaucasians, Colonel Levis — half Kussian, half Swede—a stout, florid, good-humored, and brave soldier — a typical military man, in short ; of the Ingushes and Ossetes, an officer who was Russian in appearance and in name — Pankratieff, if I remember rightly.

I usually lodged in some peasant’s house with the elder Skobeleff. He possessed a two-wheeled taj^ataika (small cart) and a couple of horses. In the morning, after the troops had started, we drove after them ; when he had caught them up, Skobeleff put on his \mg^ papakha (Cossack cap), mounted a horse, rode round the regiments, greeting the officers and men, and then took his seat again in the tarataika, laid the papakha under the seat, and put on once more his red convoy-cap. He had years ago commanded the imperial convoy, and still wore the convoy uniform When we came near a village he never forgot to throw open the flaps of his overcoat so as to show his smart tcJieiPesska embroidered with broad silver lace. The Roumanians were everywhere much impressed with the general’s stately and characteristic appearance. I remember well how at a review which the commander-in-chief held at Galatz Skobeleff’s splendid figure filled me with admiration. He was a handsome man, with great blue eyes and a full red beard, and sat his little horse as if it were a part of him.

On the way we told each other stories, or Skobeleff talked with Mishka, the coachman, about the bad shoeing of the near horse, or the rottenness of the reins, or the bad state of one of the tires, etc. Generally he would wrangle, scold the coachman, and threaten to send him away, and after we had crossed the frontier he would promise him a sound thrashing now that the ordinary law was no longer

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in force.” But Mishka knew well enough that these were but idle threats. Later on, when the younger Skobeleff, Michael, had joined our party, it was often difficult to determine which the elder Skobeleff was speaking of or which he was calling — his son Misha, or his coachman Mishka.

We ordinarily drove far ahead of the troops and chose a good place for the midday halt ; here we would await them, trying in the interim to discover if there were a house or an inn near us at which to procure milk, fresh or sour. When the officers came up, we would take a cold breakfast.

I must mention still a few more persons who were generally of our party. These were Staff-Captain Sacharoff, who was now acting as chief of staff to this detachment — a very clever fellow ; Captain Derfelden, a cavalry officer serving with our detachment, who, in spite of his German name, was a true Russian ; and, lastly. Captain Lukasheff, of the Gatshina Cuirassiers, who, if I remember aright, was temporarily acting as aide-de-camp.

The detachment included, beside the troops already mentioned, a battery of Don Cossack artillery ; but their commander kept aloof from us and associated only with his own officers. The officers commanding the regiments of the second brigade, as well as Wulfert himself, were seldom with us, as they marched behind, and only appeared in Skobeleff’s presence when they overtook us every other day during our midday halt.

It is scarcely necessary to say that our breakfast parties in a meadow, under shady trees or under the projecting roof of a Roumanian cottage, were very animated and merry. When we had rested, the signal would be given to resume our march, and we would mount our tarataika once more and set off, followed by the detachment.

Often we would ask questions of the peasants, male or female, whom we met on the road ; and our efforts to make ourselves understood on these occasions gave us no little amusement, “ You can’t manage it,” Skobeleff would say ; “let me question him.” Sometimes he did actually succeed in getting an answer. Once we turned off the road to speak to a Roumanian who was minding a flock of sheep, and who was almost frightened out of his wits at sight of the general. Skobeleff wanted to buy a small sheep for breeding. He

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Stretched out his hands and bleated feebly. The peasant understood what he wanted, sold him the sheep, and looked after us, smilingly, for a long while. We took the animal into our vehicle, but presently had to banish him to the baggage-wagons, as he was too dirty to be a pleasant travelling-companion.

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On the arrival of the detachment at the place where, according to our marching orders, we were to halt for the night, dinner was prepared in the house which the general chose for his quarters. We had agreed among ourselves that Skobeleff should provide the substantial viands, Tutolmin the wine, Sacharoff the tea and sugar, and I the requisite sweets — such, for instance, as almonds and raisins, nuts, etc. Skobeleff always dressed the salad himself, and, as he constantly tasted it, his beard would become covered with green leaves.

He used often to send out his cook to one of the neighboring gardens to steal young vine-leaves to put into the soup.

When, for some reason or other, we were kept waiting for dinner, we tried to kill time with all kinds of absurdities and jokes. We indited odes to the cook on the dinner, or, according to circumstances, on the campaign, the weather, etc. I still recollect some verses which General Skobeleff, Colonel Tutolmin, Captain Sacharoff, and Captain Derfelden composed jointly.

My doggerel lines remained unfinished, because Dmitri Ivanovitch (the elder Skobeleff) begged me to add something on the order and discipline of the detachment, which naturally rather cooled my inspiration. My verses ran as follows:

Jests and laughter fill the air, And songs in chorus shouted.

All’s alive and merry,

All’s alive and merry.

’Tis Skobeleff with his battalions And his Don Cossacks,

Marching ’gainst the Turks, Marching ’gainst the Turks.

Here they tramp, the brave Kubantsi And the ragged Ossetin Men of mettle all,

Men of mettle all.

Here the guns come lumbering: In battle perhaps they’ll help us.

But who can prophesy ?

But who can prophesy ?

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In the rear the hangers-on,

Surgeons, clerks, and Lord knows who,

In a motley throng,

In a motley throng.

The proposal to continue these verses was not carried out. After dinner, until tea was brought, there was more chatting and joking, and often songs, in which the general did not disdain to join with his bass voice. Tutolmin especially was fond of singing ; he would hold some of the notes with care, often closing his eyes with pleasure, particularly when his favorite song was sung — the soldiers’ air :

or—

Live and drive dull care away.

And be thankful to the Czar :

Let us live and banish care And swear eternal friendship.

We went to bed in good time, as we had to be up early.

*

* *

At one halting-place we had just lain down to sleep when shots were heard, and a general tumult ensued. While dressing myself I asked Skobeleff what it could be. “ The Turks,” he thought. In a few minutes the whole detachment was on the move ; unfortunately my bridle had been lost, which made me later than the others in starting. In the impenetrable darkness I rode through hedges and ditches, and in consequence nearly fell from my horse. When I reached the division, already ranged in rank and file, I heard orders given in an undertone ; “ Where is the artillery ? Let the artillery come here. The Kubantsi to the right.” Then the general’s voice reached me : ‘‘ Vassili Vassilievitch! Where is Vassili Vassilievitch?” I quickly took my place among the staff.

A patrol was sent out, and it was found that a Jewish sutler who was taking his night’s rest here, and had become thoroughly frightened in the dark, had taken it into his head to fire a few shots from his revolver in order to restore his courage. The Cossacks, especially Orloff, begged for permission to give this Jew, who had deprived the whole detachment of sleep, a sound beating ; but I interposed on his behalf, and suggested

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that for each shot fired he should receive a cut with the nagaika. This was done. The Jew received three lashes only, but they were good ones.

*

In the large villages the Cossacks were quartered in houses, but in the intervening country in tents. On the whole the troops behaved well, though there were some complaints against them : in one place a Cossack had carried off a goose ; in another a sheep had been stolen, and consumed with such skill that neither skin nor bones were to be found. Complaints were also brought, but only once, of a woman being attacked by Cossacks.

We marched on with great caution, as if in an enemy’s country, with patrols, which Skobeleff called ‘‘eyes,” on our flanks. Although some of the officers laughed at these precautions, they were probably not unnecessary ; for one could not be sure that some wandering party of Tcherkesses might

HE ATTACKED A WOMAN.

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not cross the Danube on a dark night, do mischief, and alarm the neighborhood. Although we were still quite a distance from the Danube, the inhabitants all round us were in the greatest excitement in consequence of the constant rumors that the enemy were about to cross the river — now at this spot and now at that.

The officers, as well as the Cossacks of the detachment, led a quiet life ; there was neither hard drinking nor high play, d'he only thing I can remember is a little entertainment given by the colonel of the Kuban regiment, Kucharenko, who celebrated his birthday with a feast. Colonel Orloff appeared with a half-dozen of Don champagne — the last, as he assured us ; presently another half-dozen appeared, which was said to be quite the last ; however, yet another half-dozen followed ; was it really (?) the last.

The chief interest of the feast was centred in the roast foal, of which notice had been given long before. Although in Turkestan I had eaten horse-flesh, I had never tasted foal.

The roast was served. Gentlemen,” cried Kucharenko, who stammered violently, “ will you be pleased to partake of roast foal ? ” — the dish contained huge chops and steaks of rather bluish meat. All tried it. I liked the meat, the majority did not ; some ate a little, others none at all.

Now the second dish was served. “Gentlemen, here is mutton for those who do not care for roast foal ! ” The guests fell to, and were heard to exclaim : “ That is quite a different thing ; this is real meat ! ” When all had laid down their knives and forks, Kucharenko stammered out again : “ Do not be angry, gentlemen : both dishes were foal ! ”

*

I possessed neither horse nor carriage, and was therefore obliged to provide myself with both. It was settled that Sotnik W., who commanded a sotnia (hundred) of Kuban Cossacks, and always knew how to get everything everywhere, should procure me both. The general introduced me to him. “ All right,” said W. ; and the very next day I received a chestnut horse, which, to be sure, was blind of one eye, but good-tempered and quiet, could see well with the sound eye, and (most important of all ) cost only seventy rubles — not a high price under the circumstances.

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Later on, at Bucharest, W. procured for me a new horse and a carriage from a Russian settler, a Skopets, for 400 francs. For my carriage Skobeleff gave me a Cossack footsoldier from the Don, called Ivan, and for my horses a young Ossetin named Kaitoff.

Shortly after this the younger Skobeleff arrived. His horses had preceded him. One, which his father had given him, was an English thoroughbred, for which 14,000 rubles had been paid ; the second, a white stallion of Persian race, had, I suppose, some good points, but in most respects was not well formed ; the third, a yellow chestnut of Turcoman blood from Khiva, did not seem to be one of the best horses of that country.

The young general had been already talked of in the division, and I, being acquainted with him, was often questioned about him. I told everybody that he was a brave and excellent officer.

The relation between the elder Skobeleff and his son was a friendly one ; but it seemed to me, nevertheless, that Dmitri Ivanovitch was a little piqued that his son had received the Cross of St. George of the third class while he had only the fourth. Moreover, the father alluded sarcastically to his son Michel’s military service in Turkestan (partly, no doubt, because he was himself an old Caucasian), and laughed at the engagements there as child’s play. Once, at table I was obliged to stand up warmly for the young general, and the old man was quite annoyed. Altogether, it must be confessed that young Skobeleff to a certain extent distuibed the orderly patriarchal conditions of our camp life by his martial stories and his plans and proposals for the coming campaign.

He had at that time a number of plans ready, not only for taking the whole army and its several divisions across the Danube, but also for surprising the Turkish pickets, batteries, etc. He communicated his plans in confidence first to one and then to another of the older officers of the detachment, to the great astonishment of many. “ He is mad,” said S. to me ; ‘‘a fresh plan every hour. He takes one by the arm, with ^ I say, do you know ’ — and begins to talk sheer nonsense.”

As I was sincerely attached to Skobeleff, I advised him to

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be more reserved and cautious. He asked with much interest what impression he had made on the detachment. I replied that his youth and figure, his Cross of St. George, and other points had undoubtedly made a certain impression ; but that he must take care not to efface it by his schemes, which, however practicable and easy of execution they might appear to him personally, bored everybody else. Skobeleff thanked me warmly, saying, “ That is the advice of a true friend.”

*

❖ Hs

We came within a short distance of Bucharest, but did not enter the town, on account of the agreement which had been made at the convention.

Our former agent in Constantinople, Colonel Bobrikoff, accompanied by several Roumanian officers, rode out from the town to meet us ; they led us round through the suburbs, and in one of these, by the Danube, we took up our quarters. This proceeding caused great discontent in the detachment ; the. condition that we should not march through the town was termed humiliating, but quite unjustly.

When the troops had been billeted, the elder Skobeleff was informed that the commander-in-chief had stopped at Bucharest on his way and was lodging in the house of Consul Stuart. The worthy Dmitri Ivanovitch was highly delighted at this news, and as he sat on the bed threw his legs up in the air. Presently he rode off to the Grand Duke displaying the flag, of blue silk with a large white cross, which was carried before the detachment on the march through Roumania.

Accompanied by young Skobeleff, I drove through the town. I must confess that I was ashamed of my companion, for he put out his tongue at the ladies we met, particularly at the pretty ones.

Skobeleff felt his inaction painfully. It was evident that a separate command was not to be intrusted to him, and he deeply regretted having left Turkestan, where, it was rumored, a demonstration against England was preparing. The thought of a campaign in India gave him no peace. “We were both fools to come here,” he said to Captain Masloff, who had come with him from Turkestan, and, like him, was longing to be back. I advised Michael Dmitrie- 4

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vitch to have a little patience, whereupon he replied “ Let us wait, Vassili Vassilievitch. I understand waiting, and shall be sure to take what comes to me.” Masloff I advised to join fortunes with Skobeleff, who, it was certain, would find his right place. It is a pity that he succeeded in doing so too late, that his youth was so long a stumbling block, and that this fiery spirit was not allowed free scope. The result of the campaign would then have been very different.

I he elder Skobeleff gave us a dinner in the Huk Hotel, where I also had taken rooms. The inn was good and not expensive, and drove a roaring trade, it was said. But, indeed, there was scarcely a person in Bucharest who did not, somehow or other, get profit from us Russians. The owners of inns and hotels must really have made their fortunes.

*

* *

As I had to provide the sweets for our common table, I ransacked all the shops in the town, but could find nothing except some inferior raisins and hard dried plums ; everything else was sold out. It was much to my annoyance that I had to offer my good comrades these rather untempting articles.

After two days’ rest we marched on in our old order. One day the Don Cossacks led the van, the next day the Kubantsi, for the most part singing and playing Cossack music, which, if not always harmonious, sounded at any rate loud and bold. I remember one officer in particular who conducted the music in the Kuban regiment — a fine, well-built, handsome man. As he conducted he beat a Turkish drum ; and how he did beat it ! One could only listen to it at a respectful distance. The troops were disposed of as before — partly in cottages, if there was room ; if not, in tents as near as possible to the water. For ourselves, we always found some house — now a peasant’s, now a landowner’s. I sometimes went with Dmitri Ivanovitch to the farms by the way, where, if the owner was absent, they willingly showed us everything, and offered us dultchas — i.e. fruit-syrup — with the usual glass of water. Once we lodged in a large, very roomy house belonging to a landowner. But that night our detachment did not fare well ; though they searched carefully, no dry place could be found, and the Cossacks were obliged to pitch their tents on swampy ground ; moreover, the weather was damp and cold ; rain fell the whole time. I remember that our commanding officer was then accused of making his troops encamp too near his own quarters.

While there, the elder Skobeleff received orders to appear at headquarters, and, evidently uneasy, he set off. The fact was, that during our stay at Bucharest the Ingushes belonging to our detachment had had a fight — such, at least, was the story — and officious people thereupon reported in influential quarters that the Mussulmans among the Ingushes, and some of those among the Ossetes, had expressed their dislike of the campaign ; nay, these busybodies actually pretended that they had seen the so-called malcontents throw away their cartridges, saying that they would not fire on their fellowbelievers, the Turks.

All this proved later to be mere nonsense, but gossip did not fail to spread the report that there was a want of discipline in the detachment, and even went so far as to hint that it was almost in a state of mutiny. The commander-in-chief, disquieted by these rumors, summoned Skobeleff, on whose advice it was decided to send back the Ingushes and the Ossetes to Russia. A harsher and, under the circumstances, a more unjust measure could scarcely be imagined ; and these rough soldiers shed tears as they tried to move their commanders from their purpose and to establish their own innocence ; but all in vain, for their return to Russia was definitely decided upon. They were obliged to start for Odessa on their way home, returning afterward to the seat of war.

During Skobeleff’s absence his son took his place. How pleased he was to be able to ride along the ranks of the Cossacks and call out to them, ‘‘ Good-day, children ! ” Even at that time, when I dissuaded him from attempting to obtain permission to return to Turkestan, he said to me sadly, “Do you think Vassili Vassilievitch, that I do not find it hard to be unable to greet the men, when I have led regiments into battle, and governed a province ? ”

The Cossacks recognized the difference between father and son ; you might hear them say, “We could do with a commander like that.” When the elder Skobeleff learned this, later, he was annoyed. “ He cannot have this post,” he said to me, “because I have it.” The old man was called Pasha — I do not know why ; Sacharoff called him Rygim Pasha, because he often hemmed loudly to clear his throat. The

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Cossacks frequently sang a parody of the well-known soldiers’ song, “ There was a battle at Poltava,” which began with the words “ At Junis was a battle fought,” in allusion to the Russian volunteers in the war between Turkey and Servia. Among the rest the following lines —

Our mighty Emperor — ■

God keep his memory —

were parodied as follows : —

Our mighty M . . . —

May the devil take him —

Only in the rear was seen,

Writing telegrams.

The elder Skobeleff heard this song often without taking any notice of it ; but the younger, on the very first day of his short command, said to the men, “ I beg of you, brethren, not to sing that song, because it ridicules our brothers who fought bravely for the cause of the Slav.”

He made inquiries about the men’s food and about various other matters concerning the detachment : and this, becoming speedily known to the privates, procured for him great popularity.

In everything that related to the health of the troops the elder Skobeleff trusted completely to the integrity of the brigadier-generals, who in turn relied on the colonels of the regiments ; and the result was that in reality there was no control whatever. An active young doctor reported that the regiment commanded by K. was insufficiently provided with medical appliances, and that in addition the food was bad. The officer in command of the division acted in an extremely autocratic and original fashion, for he questioned the colonel of the regiment, and in consequence removed the doctor from his post, ascribing his damaging statement to his personal dislike for his colonel.

“ What a mean fellow that doctor is ! ” said the colonel to me. “ When he came into the regiment, he had nothing ; I gave him a Cossack, I gave him a horse, and one thing and another ; and now just see how he repays me.”

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We soon reached Frateshti, near the railway station of the same name, whence there is a view of the Danube glittering like a silver band in the sunshine. As the detachment was to take a position along the bank of the river, and there was no talk of crossing, I thought I would seize the opportunity to go to Paris for a short time. Some of my painting materials had suffered severely on the way, so that it was necessary either to send for new ones or to go myself. I preferred the latter, told Skobeleff of my intention, and set off the same day, via Bucharest, for Ploieshti, which was then our headquarters.

Twenty days later I was back again. There was a great deal going on at headquarters then, because the Emperor was with the army. In the evening of the same day I went to Giurgevo, where Skobeleff was stationed with his division. The next morning the thunder of cannon awoke me, and a Cossack brought me the following message by order of the commanding officer : The Turks are bombarding Giurgevo.

Come and look.”

I rode down to the bank of the Danube. The day was fine and bright, and Rustchuk, with its forts, its white minarets, and the distant camp, lay before me as if in the palm of my hand. The elder Skobeleff with his staff sat under the projeeting roof of a house which overhung the river. The Turks, as it turned out, were bombarding, not the town, but the trading-vessels which lay between the shore and a little island, and whieh they thought were intended to take our troops across. They were strangely built barks, reminding one of the last century ; and any one who believed that the Russian troops proposed to make their way to the Turkish shore in these galleys must have had a very poor opinion of our facilities for crossing the Danube.

Several shells had already fallen among the houses on the extreme edge of the town, and the confusion which followed was a sight to see : the inhabitants snatching up the most indispensable of their belongings and flying to the other side of the town. I went on board the vessels, and took my station on the middle one in order to observe on the one side the hurly-burly in the houses, and on the other the falling of the bombs into the water. Just at that moment a shell fell into

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a long government building, which was probably some kind of magazine, but at that time served as quarters for half a sotnia of Kuban Cossacks ; a second followed immediately. When the first shell struck the wall, the Cossacks began to collect their things ; but when the second broke through the roof, they crept out like cockroaches, hanging their heads, and, with dagger in one hand and cap in the other, ran quickly into the streets, hugging the walls as they went.

Some of the shells, plunging into the sandy shore and there bursting, threw up the sand as if by magic in the form of a bouquet or a cauliflower head, from the centre of which solid clods and stones flew into the air, while above it rose a thick column of white smoke.

The shells fell near the spot where I was ; a few only reached the shore — most of them fell on the ships, or into the water between or in front of them. Twice the bark on which I stood was struck. The first shot struck the bows ; the second pierced the hull and turned everything betweendecks upside down. The explosion was so violent that I cannot call it anything but hellish, though my knowledge of hell does not rest on personal experience. The crash, I remember, drove two puppies on deck, where they began to play ; the explosion merely startled them and made them prick up their ears, and then they set at each other again.