§8
Vitberg had been living in exile at Vyatka for two years when the merchants of the town determined to build a new church.
Their plans surprised the Tsar Nicholas when they were submitted to him. He confirmed them and gave orders to the local authorities that the builders were not to mar the architect’s design.
“Who made these plans?” he asked of the minister.
“Vitberg, Your Majesty.”
“Do you mean the same Vitberg?”
“The same man, Your Majesty.”
And so it happened that Vitberg, most unexpectedly, got permission to return to Moscow or Petersburg. When he asked leave to clear his character, it was refused; but when he made skilful plans for a church, the Tsar ordered his restoration—as if there had ever been a doubt of his artistic capacity!
In Petersburg, where he was starving for bread, he made a last attempt to defend his honour. It was a complete failure. He applied to Prince A. N. Golitsyn; but the Prince thought it impossible to open the question again, and advised Vitberg to address a humble petition for pecuniary assistance to the Crown Prince. He said that Zhukovski and himself would interest themselves in the matter, and held out hopes of a gift of 1,000 roubles.
Vitberg refused.
I visited Petersburg for the last time at the beginning of winter in 1846, and there I saw Vitberg. He was quite a wreck; even his wrath against his enemies, which I had admired so much in former days, had begun to cool down; he had ceased to hope and was making no endeavour to escape from his position; a calm despair was making an end of him; he was breaking up altogether and only waiting for death.
Whether the sufferer is still living, I do not know, but I doubt it.
“But for my children,” he said to me at parting, “I would tear myself away from Russia and beg my bread over the world; wearing my Cross of Vladímir, I would hold out calmly to the passer-by that hand which the Tsar Alexander grasped, and tell him of my great design and the fate of an artist in Russia.”
“Poor martyr,” thought I, “Europe shall learn your fate—I promise you that.”