There are no chairs in the rooms; during the day broad benches along the walls and oven are used instead. At night, the members of the household lie down to sleep on these benches, using any convenient piece of clothing for a pillow. It seems the Russian peasant of one hundred years ago considered beds a luxury.
Every one of these houses, those of the rich as well as those of the poor, contains in the easterly corner of the sitting room a cabinet with more or less costly sacred images.
On entering the room the newcomer immediately turns his face toward the cabinet, crossing himself three times in the Greek fashion, simultaneously inclining his head, and not until this act of devotion has been performed does he address individually every one present. In greeting, the family name is never mentioned, only the first name, to which is added: Son of so and so (likewise the first name only), but the inclination of the head—pagoda like—is never omitted.
All the members of the household say their very simple prayers in front of the cabinet; at least, I never heard them say anything else but Gospodin pomilui (O Lord, have mercy upon us); but such a prayer is very fatiguing for old and feeble persons because Gospodin pomilui is repeated at least 24 times, and every repetition is accompanied with a genuflection and a prostration, naturally entailing a great deal of hardship owing to the continued exertion of the entire body.
In addition to the sacred cabinet, the oven, and the benches, every one of the rooms contains another loose bench about six feet long, a table of the same length, and the kvass barrel which is indispensable to every Russian.
This cask is a wooden vat of about 50 to 60 gallons capacity, standing upright, the bottom of which is covered with a little rye flour and wheat bran—the poor use chaff of rye—upon which hot water is poured. The water becomes acidulated in about 24 hours and tastes like water mixed with vinegar. A little clean rye straw is placed inside of the vat, in front of the bunghole, allowing the kvass to run fairly clear into the wooden cup. When the vat is three-quarters empty more water is added; this must be done very often, as the kvass barrel with its single drinking cup—placed always on top of the barrel—is regarded as common property. Every member of the household and every stranger draws and drinks from it to their heart’s content, without ever asking permission of the owner of the house. Kvass is a very refreshing summer drink, especially in the houses of wealthy peasants who need not be particular with their rye flour and who frequently renew the original ingredients of the concoction.
The peasant soldiers took the most comfortable places; for Schehl and his nine comrades, who were lodged with him in one of the houses, straw was given to make a bed on the floor, but most of the nine syntrophoi were so sick and feeble that they could not make their couch, and six could not even eat the pound of bread which every one had received; they hid the remaining bread under the rags which represented their garments. Schehl, although he could not raise his left arm, helped the sick, notwithstanding the pain he suffered, to spread the straw on the floor. On the morning of the 2d. of November the sick, who had not been able to eat all their bread, were dead. Schehl, while the surviving ones were still asleep, took the bread which he found on the corpses, to hide it in his sheepskin coat. This inheritance was to be the means of saving his life; without it he would have starved to death while a prisoner in Moscow.
They left this village with now only 29 prisoners and arrived on the same evening, reduced to 11 in number, in Moscow, where they were locked up in one of the houses, together with many other prisoners. Of the 700 fellow prisoners of Schehl 689 had died during the four days and four nights of hunger, cold, and most barbaric cruelties. If the prisoners had hoped to be saved from further cruelties while in Moscow they were bitterly disappointed. First of all, their guards took from them all they themselves could use, and on this occasion Schehl lost his clarinette which he considered as his life saver. Fortunately, they did not take from him the six pieces of bread. After having been searched the prisoners were driven into a room which was already filled with sick or dying, lying on the floor with very little and bad straw under them. The newcomers had difficulties to find room for themselves among these other unfortunates. The guards brought a pail of fresh water but nothing to eat. In a room with two windows, which faced the inner court-yard, were locked up over 30 prisoners, and all the other rooms in the building were filled in the same way. During the night from November 2d. to November 3d. several of Schehl’s companions died and were thrown through the window into the court yard, after the jailors had taken from the corpses whatever they could use. Similar acts were performed in the other rooms, and it gave the survivors a little more room to stretch their limbs. This frightful condition lasted six days and six nights, during which time no food was given to them. The corpses in the yard were piled up so high that the pile reached up to the windows. It was 48 hours since Schehl had eaten the last of the six pieces of bread, and he was so tortured by hunger that he lost all courage, when at 10 o’clock in the forenoon a Russian officer entered and in German ordered the prisoners to get ready within an hour for roll call in the court yard, because the interimistic commanding officer of Moscow, Colonel Orlowski, was to review them. Immediately before this took place, the prisoners had held a counsel among themselves whether it would be wise to offer themselves for Russian military service in order to escape the imminent danger of starving to death. When that officer so unexpectedly had entered, Schehl, although the youngest—he was only 15 years of age—but relatively the strongest, because he was the last of them who had had a little to eat, rose with difficulty from his straw bed and made the offer, saying that they were at present very weak and sick from hunger, but that they would soon regain their strength if they were given something to eat. The officer in a sarcastic and rough manner replied: “His Majesty our glorious Emperor, Alexander, has soldiers enough and does not need you dogs.” He turned and left the room, leaving the unfortunates in a state of despair. Toward 11 o’clock he returned, ordering the prisoners to descend the stairs and fall in line in the court yard. All crawled from their rooms, 80 in number, and stood at attention before the colonel, who was a very handsome and strong man, six foot tall, with expressive and benevolent features. The youth of Schehl made an impression on him, and he asked in German: “My little fellow, are you already a soldier?”
S. At your service, colonel.
C. How old are you?