Carriage used by bomb-throwers at Stolypin’s house
when I talked with the peasants at work on his estates, I found that their silence was deep with foreboding and their looks were sinister. “The next Duma will contain many more peasants,” he said, “because the Constitutional Democrats have discredited themselves. The peasants will not trust them again. Neither will they boycott the elections.” The peasants with whom I talked supported this view. The Viborg manifesto failed utterly to impress them, and since the Constitutional Democrats were in the majority in the late Duma and yet failed to help them in their plight, they will try to return only peasants to the next Duma.
News of the assassination of General Minn, of evil memory, and the bomb incident in M. Stolypin’s house in St. Petersburg had not yet penetrated to the remote villages of this province, although both events had happened nearly a week before. In one of the villages I handed a newspaper, containing an account of both incidents, to one of a picturesque group to read aloud. Had there been any lingering doubt in my mind as to the revolutionary spirit of these people, it would have disappeared in this moment. Details of the bomb affair were listened to with breathless interest, but when it was learned that M. Stolypin was uninjured, there were expressions of chagrin, of disappointment, and regret.
“What! Do you approve of these terroristic acts?” I exclaimed. A silence fell over the company until a young peasant, with a frank and rather striking face, answered: “Yes, we believe in the killing of ministers. They are bad men. They are our oppressors. It is good that they should die.” For a peasant this was very “advanced” thinking.
I left Prince Ouktomsky’s toward the end of a summer afternoon, for the estate of Professor Vassiliev, some five hours’ journey away.
Three hours after leaving the Ouktomsky estate we passed a certain convent. My peasant driver was very insistent that I and my interpreter should pass the night here.
“But how is that possible?” I exclaimed. “If it is a convent, surely men may not tarry here over night.”