Convicts were formerly sent to Saghalien by road, viâ Irkoutsk and the Amur, but are now transported direct from Odessa. I was told at Moscow, that a few years hence all criminals and political offenders will be sent to Saghalien by sea direct, and banishment to Siberia become a thing of the past. For the truth of this assertion, however, I cannot vouch.
The usual marching is two days’ work to one day’s rest, travelling, on an average, about eighteen to twenty miles a day. There are about four hundred prisons in all in Siberia, in fact every village we passed on the road from Irkoutsk to Tomsk had its “ostrog.” All, from the shores of the sea of Okhotzk to the Oural mountains, are built exactly alike of wood painted a light yellow, the roof being of a dull brick-red colour. In each prison are four or more cells for the politicals. The criminals, men and women, are herded together in one large room, round the sides of which are inclined wooden planks to sleep or lounge upon. The town prisons are built of stone, and are, of course, very much larger. The Alexandreffski prison, for instance, about thirty miles from Irkoutsk, contains over twelve hundred convicts.
The number of exiles sent to Siberia during the past few years has been on an average 15,000 to 18,000 per annum, including women and children. As a rule, the lesser criminals are sent to settlements in Western Siberia, nihilists and murderers to Kara and Saghalien, some of the former even as far as Yakoutsk, which is said to be the hottest place in summer, and coldest in winter, in the world. From Kara there is no escape. Few ever try to get away, for the uninhabited regions on the north, and desert of Gobi on the south, effectually cut off all chances of escape, while east and west a prisoner stands the chance of being shot down by the Bouriattes and other wandering tribes, a reward of three roubles a head, living or dead, being offered by Government for runaways. On the whole, there is no doubt that the Russian Government treats its prisoners far better than we in England are inclined to give it credit for. Even nihilists are fairly well treated, though, of course, the majority of them are educated men, and feel their degradation far more keenly than the hardened, low-born criminals.
As for the latter, they have no complaint whatever to make as to food and clothing; each man has two pounds of black bread, three-quarters of a pound of meat, and a small allowance of quass daily. This, it must be remembered, is what Government actually allows him. He may make what he can on the road in addition to this, by soliciting alms from travellers and caravans. The prison-gates present a curious sight of an evening, half an hour before the arrival of a convoy. It is a miniature market, where huge baskets of berries, jam, kalachi or rolls, quass, new milk, are spread out in tempting array on snow-white tablecloths, for the benefit of the fortunate ones who have succeeded in obtaining a few kopeks from compassionate travellers.
Imagine a convict travelling from Portland to Dartmoor being allowed to beg at the railway stations! Every village prison, too, has its recreation-ground, where there are trapezes, parallel bars, and other gymnastic appliances, for the amusement of prisoners during the long winter months.
On arrival at the mines, a prisoner’s food is increased to four pounds of black bread, one pound of meat, a quarter of a pound of buckwheat, and tea instead of quass. Convicts at the mines do not as a rule complain of overwork, but of not having enough to do!
The summer costume is a linen shirt, pair of trousers, coat of coarse grey camel’s-hair, and flat peakless cap. Yellow cloth diamonds on the back of the coat indicate, by their number, the length of the wearer’s sentence. On his release from the mines, a plot of land and a house is given to every convict of good character. Many thus live with their wives and families, in as great a state of freedom as any ordinary English labourer, excepting that they are bound to do a certain amount of work per day (for which they are paid), and to be indoors by a certain hour at night.
The punishments inflicted are far less severe than they used to be. The “knout” has been abolished for some years, and also in a great measure has flogging, which is still practised occasionally, but with rods. It is only at Kara and Sakhalien that the “plète,” an instrument nearly as severe as the knout, is ever used. The former——a lash of twisted hide about two feet long, terminating in thin lashes a foot long with small leaden balls at the end——is a terrible instrument, and one which, if severely wielded, often results in the death of a prisoner. From twenty-five to fifty strokes are usually given, but if the prisoner have friends, they usually bribe the executioner to make the first blow a severe one. A skilful flogger, and one who wishes to make the convict suffer, draws no blood, for this has the effect of relieving pain. Commencing very gently, he gradually increases the force of the blows till the whole of the back is covered with long swollen weals. In this case mortification often sets in, and the victim dies. The plète is only used at Kara, Nicolaiefsk, and Sakhalien, and then only very rarely, and on the most desperate criminals.
We found living in Irkoutsk fairly cheap, with the exception of wine and beer. Light claret (called Lafitte) is sold at nine roubles a bottle, while English beer was still dearer. Champagne is drunk in enormous quantities by Siberians, but it is sweet, mawkish stuff. It was half as cheap again as the claret, and bore the most extraordinary brand I have ever seen——the English and American flags crossed over a horse and jockey! However, it suited the consumers, who, like Russians, dislike dry champagne. Poultry, fish, and eggs are absurdly cheap. Two hundred of the latter can be bought for one rouble. The Siberian has tastes somewhat akin to the Chinese in the matter of eggs. I was frequently asked at post-houses whether I would like mine old, straw flavoured, or fresh!
There was no lack of amusement in the evening. Two theatres (French and Russian), a circus, and several open-air concerts were always open to us. I witnessed one evening a performance of the “Cloches de Corneville,” most creditable both as regards artistes and orchestra. Opera bouffe at Irkoutsk! Had I been told a year before that it existed there, I should have set down my informant as a lunatic. The streets were far from safe at night, and two men were stabbed during the short time we were there. Being unlit, they present great facilities for the exercise of their profession to the gentlemen who take up their residence in the lower quarters of the town after a sojourn at Kara or Nertchinsk. No one in Irkoutsk ever walks abroad after dark unarmed.