Escape from Siberian exile

Introduction

The complete story of the sufferings of humanity because of the great world war can never be written. Now and then there comes to us a record of individual experiences which gives something of an idea of the intensity of human passions, and of the hopes and fears and sufferings of the world, during those awful years. Such a story is this.

The hero of this story is a young Russian evangelist of a Protestant "sect." At the outbreak of the war, the priests of the Greek Church, under cover of insuring greater security to the state, took occasion to wreak vengeance on those who had dared to teach the people any other way than that of the established church. Along with many others, our author was banished, being sent to the most northern penal station of western Siberia.

The terrible prisons en route; the contact with the worst of criminals ; the fellowship with other religious prisoners; the surveillance of tyrannical priests; the sojourn in the lonely forests of the far north with hardened criminals and in proximity to wild tribes; the meeting with a brother minister in the faith who was likewise an exile, with only a few words in passing; the sudden decision to break for liberty; the hasty

8 INTRODUCTION

nocturnal visit home ; the six thousand mile flight across Siberia; the perilous and painful journey on foot through Manchuria, over frozen snows, with no guide but the twinkling stars, walking at one time for thirty hours, with torn feet, without rest; the journey to Shanghai; the voyage across the Pacific, with a narrow escape from becoming a prisoner of war, — all this makes the story a most adventurous and thrilling one.

In reading this book, one cannot fail to get a glimpse of the great warfare that is constantly waged between the forces of darkness and light, between superstition and enlightenment, between tyranny and true democracy. The assumption of spiritual control and the coercion of men's consciences by ignorant and even drunken priests, cannot but impress the reader with the utter wickedness of the old regime in Russia, and of any system where the state assumes control of religion.

There is also a golden thread of God's care and overruling providence running through this story. The escape, a soldier's assistance offered in a time of greatest perplexity, the "chance" meeting of a boy late at night in a great city, who proved to belong to the same "sect," when there was no other who could shelter the fleeing exile, and many other such things that seemed to "happen" at just the right time, cannot but

INTRODUCTION 9

impress one that God hears the cry of His children in their distress and answers them. "This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles." Psalm 34 : 6. We heartily commend this book to all Englishspeaking young people, and pray that it may inspire in those who read it such a love for truth, that they too may be willing to suffer, if need be, rather than disobey God.

M. E. Kern,

General Secretary Young People's Society of Missionary Volunteers.

Contents

I. What Liberty Meant in Imperial Russia 17

II. In the Clutch op the Russian Bear . . 37

III. Banishment 55

Chapter I What Liberty Meant In Imperial Russia

THE giant acacia tree that shaded the doorway of my grandfather's home in the Causasus, shook its yellowing leaves in the autumn breeze like myriads of tiny banners, as I passed out from beneath its sheltering boughs on a September day the year before the beginning of the great war.

In the adjacent chapel — which stood on my grandfather's land — a general meeting had been in progress for some days past. It was attended not only by delegates from different parts of the Caucasus, but also by ministers from other sections of Russia; for this little town of Alexandrodar was to some extent a center for our work in that country, being one of the first places where a church of our faith had been organized in the land of the czars. My parents, when they were young people, became charter members of that church; hence I was reared in the faith we all love.

At this meeting, request had been made that I go and assist our minister located in the Black Sea city of Odessa. The few years that had passed since I finished my school course, I had spent chiefly in evangelistic work in the Caucasus; but consent was given to the proposed transfer, and I was starting for a brief visit to my father's home, a hundred miles distant, before setting out on the longer journey.

When, after spending a day with my parents, I bade them good-by, it was well that we did not foresee the circumstances under which we should next meet.

Instead of taking the ordinary railway route to Odessa, I chose to go by steamer across the Black Sea, as I hoped to be able thus to see my only brother, who was in military service at a post near the shore. I could also, in this way, gratify a long cherished desire to get a glimpse of the beautiful Crimea, the Switzerland of Russia.

Eventually reaching the port from which I should take passage, I sailed away from the shores of my beloved Caucasus. To my deep regret, I was unable to obtain the expected interview with my brother. A matter of less serious disappointment was the fact that the steamer passed some of the most romantic

Odessa

Stairway leading from one of the principal streets down

to the shore of the Black Sea.

portions of the Crimean coast at night and consequently I did not have a view of them. To compensate myself, as far as possible, for this loss, I was early on deck next morning. The vessel kept close to shore all day, and a delightful panorama moved continuously before us.

With evening and darkness came also rain, in such torrents as to suggest an attempt to raise the sea's level. I found a quiet place in the deck cabin, and there busied myself writing English. From my childhood, the study of that language had possessed an extraordinary charm for me, though I could not have explained why. When only about eight or ten years old, I saved money to buy a large Russian-English dictionary, and that volume I conned most persistently. Doubtless you would hardly have known that it was your mother tongue I was trying to speak; yet those boyish struggles were not without reward when afterwards, under more auspicious conditions, I essayed to master the language that has become to me a symbol of much that is best in life.

But let us resume our Black Sea voyage. Later in the evening, as I was crossing the

In the Crimea upper deck in the half darkness, I came into collision with a young man whom I was thus brought to recognize as a former schoolmate of mine. He had been for some years a marine, and that accounts for his preference for the wind-swept deck rather than the cabin.

Not many years before, through the influence of Seventh-dav Adventist friends, this young man had been led to accept our faith; and he had since endured great hardships — for to be a Christian in Russia, except in the legal sense, implied persecution in those not remote times.

When, in medieval days, western Europe was emerging from barbarism and adopting Christianity, Russia, not to be outdone, sent commissioners to various countries, to select a new religion for her. The choice fell to Greek Catholicism, and priests were engaged to go from Constantinople to teach the Russian people the forms of that church.

Form and force were predominant features of the religion acquired by the great nation of the north, as was indicated by the practice in vogue in those early days, of driving large companies into the water and compelling them to receive the rite of baptism.

Greek Catholicism was the only Christianity known to Russia until the time of the missionary awakening of the last century, when some of the evangelical churches began activities there.

That the state church had lost none of its dictatorial character in the course of the years, was often demonstrated before the rule of the czars ceased. Near the beginning of the present century, religious liberty for all the "sectarians" was announced; but in reality they had less liberty thereafter than before, when they depended upon secrecy for safety.

The old Russian conception of religious liberty did not include liberty to express one's convictions. Though the imperial government had adopted what was supposed to be a very liberal policy in reference to the "sects," yet, like the Jewish leaders in apostolic times, it required that they should not "speak at all nor teach" of their faith.

The reply in the two cases was the same: "We cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard." Acts 4: 18, 20.

The first Seventh-day Adventist in Russia, so it is recorded — an aged man who had been to the United States, where he learned our faith — was arrested, after his return to his native land, on the accusation that he was teaching doctrines not in harmony with those of the Greek Catholic Church.

This man stuttered so badly that he could scarcely talk, and to accuse him of conducting any kind of propaganda seemed quite ridiculous.

He had industriously spread our doctrines; but his method was such that he appeared to be the one taught instead of being the teacher. He would ask some one to read to him, indicating what he wanted to hear read — a text of Scripture or other matter bearing on "present truth"; and thus both the reader and any who might be within hearing learned the grounds for our belief.

An effort was made to have the old man exiled; but the judge, for very shame, would not pronounce sentence against him. His affliction served as a safeguard.

When I reached Odessa, among the first persons I met was one of our members who, a short time before, had concluded a two-year term of imprisonment for the Word's sake. His rapid aging during those two years, and the air of constant apprehension that still clung to him, gave a hint of what Russian jail life was. I learned more about it later.

I was soon called to go with one of our ministers to a village some distance from Odessa. There were a number of candidates for baptism ; but to administer that ordinance, we must needs go at night to an isolated place outside the town, even choosing a dark and stormy night, in order the more effectually to avoid being observed. Experience had proved that all these precautions were necessary.

In at least one instance, in the Caucasus, a convert who had been baptized into our church, was forcibly rebaptized by priests of the ''Orthodox" Church — after the medieval fashion. Others suffered much more severe punishment.

At another town that we visited on this same tour, a child of one of our members had died the day before, and there was much perplexity as to the disposition to be made of the body, the local priest having refused permission for interment in the public cemetery. After our arrival, it was learned that the priest had gone from home. Then the relatives of the dead child quickly and quietly proceeded with the burial. Not infrequently,

A Caucasian Mother She carries not only her babe, but also its cradle.

bigots of the state church disinterred our dead; and often only by appeal to the civil authorities could we secure a place for burial.

At still another town, a young man and his wife had become interested in the Bible, and had been attending our meetings. The priest, learning of this, came one day to their home to remonstrate with them; and the young man, to justify their course, called attention to numerous scriptures that show our teachings to be sound, and those of the Greek Church the contrary. Thereupon the priest struck the man mercilessly with his waU^ing stick. The terrified wife seized the stick from the hands of the priest, in an effort to defend her husband; but the priest then clutched the heavy crucifix that was suspended from his neck, and with it, beat his victim over the head. The man died a Tew weeks afterwards, in consequence of this abuse.

After the "sects" began missionary operations in Russia, an organization was formed that was often called "the Black Society." It was made up of zealots of the "Orthodox" Church, whose alleged purpose was the "protection" of that church against "spiritual degeneracy" and loss of members.

This society was specially active in Odessa. Seldom could we hold a meeting without having several of these disturbers of the peace as unbidden guests, and it was their custom to interrupt the services by noisy outcries. They tried also to excite controversy, and thus produce confusion. They often sent women to act as spies on us. These feigned sympathy with us, but listened for any word that might be construed as an offense against the state church.

At a gathering of Baptists near our place of worship in that city, some of these men were asked to leave ; and as they did not comply with the request, they were led from the building. One of them then loudly asserted that he had been kicked out by the ''sectarians," and he sanctimoniously added that thus had Jesus been treated. In this way, he caused great excitement. The police were attracted to the scene, and much trouble resulted for the Baptists.

These ' 'zealous brethren' ' — so termed — came to our services in such numbers that their testimony would suffice to condemn any of our speakers they might accuse. Often the leaders of our meetings were arrested at the instigation of these men, the most common charge being that of blasphemy against God and the church; and in case of conviction, the penalty generally was one or two years in jail. There were always some of our people under arrest or in jail in Russia.

But the more vehemently our work was opposed, the more persons seemed impelled to investigate the anathematized doctrines. These persons were surprised to hear, in our meetings, only the pure teachings of the Word; and not a few chose to unite with us. This enraged the priests; and they took revenge, whenever they could, by causing the arrest and imprisonment of our workers.

Still, happily, there were a few men in official position, in both state and church, who stood for justice and equity. - When one of our ministers in Odessa was arrested on the charge of ''reviling God and the church," the open-eyed old judge, perceiving the groundlessness of the accusation, reprimanded the prosecutors, and acquitted the accused man.

Personally I met a similar spirit of fairness more than once. In a Cossack town where I held meetings not long before going to Odessa, partisans of the state church

A Pass in the Caucasus Mountains The horsemen are Cossacks — and all Cossacks are horsemen, performing most astounding equestrian feats.

raised a disturbance, and haled me before the magistrate; but when I stated the circumstances to him, he said that I should be allowed to defend my teachings publicly, then the priests should have opportunity to refute what I said, if they could do so.

The people gathered at the church to hear; and the magistrate himself presided, seeing to it that I received just treatment. The priests objected to my going on the speaker's platform, as that place, they said, was holy, and my presence would desecrate it ; but there was no other point from which I could be heard well, and the priests were required to grant me equal advantages with themselves.

Not only did the magistrate thus come to my rescue in this crisis, but he also gave me liberty to continue my work in the town; and later a church of our faith was organized there.

In another town in the Caucasus, as I was speaking to a small company of Bible students in a private building, a tall priest entered, and questioned my right to address an audience. In reply, I read Revelation 22: 17, "Let him that heareth say. Come." The priest declared that the text had no bearing on the matter in hand; whereupon the people present — most of them his own parishioners — called to me: ''Read it to him again! He doesn't understand." As he still denied the application of the scripture, the people once more called, "Read it again!"

His protests were at last silenced for that time; but at our next meeting, two policemen appeared, and each took hold of one of my arms, as if to lead me away. I reminded them that the law forbade the interruption of a religious service, whether that service were lawful or otherwise; and finally they consented to wait till the meeting had ended. At its close, I voluntarily preceded them to police headquarters.

There, by way of explaining the situation, I gave a resume of the offending discourse. Some priests who were present urged that I be taken away, lest I make converts of the attaches of the place. Next I was taken to a police station; and the sergeant, after hearing the case, ordered me to leave the town, else he would send me home by etape — that is, with a company of prisoners traveling under guard — which might signify a sojourn of many days in jail on the way.

IJBERTY IN IMPERIAL RUSSIA

I returned to the house where our meetings had been held, and found scores of people waiting for me. They begged that I explain the Scriptures further to them; and regardless of the danger incurred by both speaker and hearers, I did so. We were not molested again; and one of our older ministers later joined me there, and baptized a group of converts.

In a city on the Roumanian border, that I visited after going to Odessa, I was arrested for teaching supposedly heretical doctrines, and the books I had with me were seized. I

The Black Sea Port of Sebastopol was not imprisoned, but had to report at the district headquarters each day for a week. There I learned that my books had been turned over to some of the younger men connected with the office, for examination as to the grievousness of the heresy they contained.

At any time that the higher officers were not present when I called, these young men inquired, with much enthusiasm, concerning the light they had found in the accused volumes; and one of them soon afterwards, as a result of his reading, accepted our faith.

Through his influence, the interest in the truths we hold became so marked as to arouse the priests, and they arranged for a prominent opponent of the sects to go there and combat our teachings. Through the police department, an order was sent for me to meet this defender of nominal orthodoxy; and I could not well refuse to obey.

I had only enough time to reach the place before the hour appointed. As I entered the city, the cathedral bell was sounding its call to the people to assemble for the contest. I did not even know what was demanded of me; but I went direct to a priest of the state church whom I had previously found to be amiable, and from him I learned that three hours each afternoon for three days was to be given to the debate — for a debate the priests had decided there should be — their chosen orator and I to speak alternately for periods of twenty minutes each. Mere boy that I was, it was expected the weakness of my defense would convince the people that I was in error. But the truth of God is not weak; nor did He who has promised to be with those who are called to speak in behalf of the gospel, fail me in those trying days.

The discussion was held in the courthouse, which contained the largest auditorium in the city. This arrangement was made in deference to my expressed wish. I did not want to speak in the cathedral; for there, I knew, the priests would not be willing that I should stand where I could be heard easily.

Written regulations were drawn up, and the opposers of the gospel were obliged to conform to them, the court officials present using their authority on the side of order.

I was the first speaker; and my presentation of the Scriptures did not inspire my antagonist to eloquence. When his turn came to speak, he became greatly confused, and implored the people to pray to the icons for him; and his last period, he spent almost wholly in appeal to these paganish travesties.

The audience manifested strong feeling, some for me, others against me ; and probably I should have suffered violence, had not the diocesan, at the close of each session, thrown his long cloak about me and walked by my side. He felt responsible for my safety.

Notwithstanding the consideration shown me at this time, I was forbidden to remain in the city, or to return afterwards to instruct those who might desire instruction. This caused great dissatisfaction on the part of many, specially of the young people, and the priests had difficulty to quell the commotion.

Such was liberty in old Russia.

Chapter II In The Clutch Of The Russian Bear

ON a December evening in 1914, it fell to me to conduct the service in our chapel in Odessa. The theme of the evening's discourse was the grace of Christ.

There were present in the chapel several enemies of the gospel. Hence I requested our people to disperse immediately at the close of the service, to avoid disturbance; and I likewise went directly to my apartment.

That same night, at half past one o'clock, I was awakened by the ringing of my doorbell. A cousin who was staying with me temporarily, opened the door; and then I heard a clanking of swords, which informed me that my callers were none other than policemen. There were an officer and two subordinates.

I had no doubt as to the object of this untimely visit. As an evangelist of a "sect," I had been brought frequently into contact with the police, and had been arrested a number of times. Yet, though such experiences in the past had always caused a degree of agitation on my part, I felt strangely undisturbed on this occasion. The officer's face seemed to me wholly benign in its expression, and I greeted him with all the cordiality I would feel for an intimate associate.

He accepted the seat proffered him, his assistants standing guard at the door; and in apology for coming at such an hour, he said that he had been at the theater, and the play did not end till one o'clock. I well knew that he had come late in order to be the surer of finding me. My cousin was greatly perturbed at the indications of trouble, but I tried to reassure him.

The officer then exclaimed that it was a pity he must do as he did, but that he was compelled to ask me to arise and dress, preparatory to going with him. When I had complied with his orders, he suggested that I leave my purse and watch, which otherwise would be taken from me when I should be searched at the police station, but that I take a blanket, as a room would be given me there. I knew what sort of room that would be.

Although I comprehended what the events now occurring portended for my future, still

The Finest Cathedral in the Caucasus

The Russian conquest of the Caucasus was marked by the

erection of cathedrals, which are therefore termed

"military cathedrals/'

those initial hours of the long months of suffering I was to endure were a time of peace and restfulness — I would almost say, of joy; and the memory of them was afterwards a source of strength to me.

Before leaving my room, I inquired of the officer the cause of my arrest; but he replied that he did not know, and he in turn asked me what it was. Although I did not know what the specific charge against me was, I did know that the priests of the state church made use of any pretext they could find for bringing accusations against "sectarians." Since the beginning of the war, taking advantage of the increased disposition of the civil and military authorities to restrict individual liberty, they had haled many nonconformist ministers into court on the most groundless charges. Often, too, a mere suspicion was taken as sufficient evidence against an accused person, and he was condemned without a trial.

When my preparations were completed, I sought again to comfort my cousin, then expressed my readiness to go with the officer. The darkness and storm into which I passed from my doorway, were typical of what I was soon to encounter.

My custodian, seeing that I was not disposed to offer resistance, dismissed his men, and called a carriage for himself and me. In u Under Arrest

As an arrested person is conducted through Russian streets, with one officer preceding, and another following.

a few minutes, we were at the police station — a place wholly familiar to me before that time.

One lone officer sat sleeping at the desk in the protocol department. I was delivered into his charge by my kindly captor, who then went his way. The desk sergeant, irritated at being disturbed, crabbedly proceeded to write a description of me, and afterwards he summoned policemen from another room to search me. These sleepily performed their task, not neglecting to take from me any article that a prisoner might use in an attempt at suicide, as necktie or suspenders.

Then, at a signal, a guard appeared. Having received his orders, he took me through the building to a rear exit, and thence across a small area to a low structure, where we entered a basement corridor, dark and clammy. Along the corridor were iron doors, on each of which was chalked a number. I afterwards learned that the number indicated how many prisoners occupied the cell.

We stopped at a door that bore a figure 5, and I was given into the care "of the guard of that cell. Inside the cell there was a small lamp, which enabled the guard to see the inmates when he peered through a tiny orifice that he opened for the purpose. He turned the lock, lifted the heavy bar, and swung open the door; and there rushed out upon me a stench that thrust me backward as a violent blow would have done.

The guard pushed me inside, and closed the door. For a time, I was overwhelmed by the vile odors that filled the cell. But as I became somewhat accustomed to these, I saw that there were five men crouching on the floor, and one of these I recognized as a Baptist evangelist who had sometimes attended our meetings. Through him, I learned that three of the others also were Baptist evangelists or church officers, while the fourth was an actor who had been arrested as leader in a street brawl. These Baptists had been taken into custody at almost the same hour as I, and they had preceded me to the cell about half an hour only.

The actor was quite hilarious, knowing that his imprisonment was for a few days merely; but the rest of us had no knowledge of what our sentence might be.

To describe that dungeon fully would not be permissible. The room was about six or seven feet wide by ten long. There was a very small barred window close to the ceiling; but it was so obscured by dirt as to afford less light by day than the dingy lamp gave at night. The mildewed walls dripped water. Former occupants of the cell apparently had deliberately planned to make the lot of whoever might be confined there after them, as unbearable as possible. Surely no person could long survive in that pestilential place. For ventilation there was absolutely no provision; and of the filth, I cannot speak.

My courteous cell mates invited me to share their couch of stone. Accordingly, I put my blanket on the floor, which was ice-cold, and sank upon it. As we could not sleep, we whiled away the time talking together. One of the Baptists, pastor of a large Germanspeaking congregation, could not take part in the conversation, as he did not understand the Russian language, and none of the others, aside from me, spoke German. This man was known among the people of his sect throughout Russia.

The morning seemed weeks delayed; and when it came, we should hardly have been aware of the fact, except that then the feeble light of the lamp was extinguished, and we could hear the sound of the electric cars in the street above.

Our cell door creaked on its hinges, and the guard brought in a pail of hot water, and for each of us a little piece of prison bread. My

; V k hunger was not sufficient to impel me to eat such food, specially in those surroundings.

I hoped that some of my friends might come to me, but none came. The day was almost an eternity to me. At noon, there was brought in a small serving of vegetable soup; and I was then hungry enough to eat. The thought occurred to me that the food provided would sustain life; but not many days afterwards, I discovered that jail fare was much poorer than this "rest house" fare.