A Russian Gentleman

by S. T. Aksakov

Stepan Mihailovitch had had no news from home for a long time, and his lawsuit dragged on interminably. He was suddenly seized by a longing to see his family again, and returned one fine day to Bagrovo. Arina Vassilyevna trembled all over when she heard the awful words, "The master has come!" Hearing that all were alive and well, he entered his house in high spirits, kissed his Arisha and daughters and son, and then asked in an easy tone, "But where on earth is Parasha[²⁷]?" Encouraged by her husband's kind manner, Arina Vassilyevna answered: "I don't know for certain where she is; perhaps, with her grandmother. Of course you heard long ago, batyushka, that she was married." I shall not describe my grandfather's amazement and fury; but his fury became twice as hot, when he heard the name of the bridegroom. He was proceeding to settle accounts with his wife on the spot, when she and all her daughters fell at his feet and showed him Mme. Baktéyeff's letter; thus she had time to convince him that she knew nothing about it and had been deceived herself. The fury of Stepan Mihailovitch was now diverted to Mme. Baktéyeff; he ordered fresh horses to be ready, rested two hours, and then galloped straight off to her house. The battle royal that took place between the two may be imagined. The old lady stood his first torrent of unmeasured abuse without flinching; then she drew herself up, grew hot in her turn, and delivered her own attack upon my grandfather. "How dare you make this furious assault on me," she asked, "as if I was your bond-slave? Do you forget that my birth is quite as good as yours, and that my late husband held a much higher rank than you? I am a nearer relation to Parasha, I am her own grandmother, and her guardian as much as you are. I arranged for her settlement without waiting for your consent, because I was dangerously ill and did not wish to leave her dependent upon you. I knew your infernal temper; under your roof, the child would have had a taste of the stick some day. Kurolyessoff is an excellent match for her, and Parasha fell in love with him of herself. Everybody likes him and praises him. I know he did not take your fancy; but just ask your own family, and you will soon find out that they can't say enough in his praise!"

"You lie, you old swindler!" roared my grandfather; "you deceived my wife by pretending that you were dying! Kurolyessoff has bewitched you and your daughter by the power of the devil, and you have sold your grand-daughter into his hands!"

This was too much for Mme. Baktéyeff, and she let out in her rage that Arina Vassilyevna and her daughters were in league with her and had themselves accepted presents at different times from Kurolyessoff. This disclosure turned the whole force of my grandfather's rage back upon his own family. He threatened that he would dissolve the marriage on the ground that Parasha was not of age, and then started home. On the way he turned aside to visit the priest who had performed the ceremony, and called him to account. But the priest met his attack very coolly, and showed him with no hesitation the certificate of affinity, the signatures of the grandmother, the bride, and the witnesses, and also the baptismal certificate which alleged that Praskovya Ivanovna was seventeen. This was a fresh blow to my grandfather, for it deprived him of all hope of breaking the hateful marriage; and it increased enormously his anger against his wife and daughters. I shall not dwell upon his behaviour when he got home: it would be too painful and repulsive. Thirty years later, my aunts could never speak of that day without trembling. I shall only say, that the culprits made a full confession, that he sent back all the presents, including those intended for himself, to Mme. Baktéyeff, to be forwarded to the proper quarter, that the elder daughters long kept their beds, and that my grandmother lost all her hair and went about for a whole year with her head bandaged. He sent a message to the Kurolyessoffs forbidding them to dare to appear before him, and ordered that their names should never be mentioned in his house.

Time rolled on, healing wounds whether of mind or body, and calming passions. Within a year Arina Vassilyevna's head was healed, and the anger in the heart of Stepan Mihailovitch had cooled. At first he refused either to see or hear of the Kurolyessoffs, and would not even write to Praskovya Ivanovna; but, when a year had passed and he heard from all quarters good accounts of her way of life, and was told that she had suddenly become sensible beyond her years, his heart softened and he became anxious to see the cousin whom he had loved. He reasoned that she, as a perfect child, was less to blame than any of the rest, and gave her leave to come, without her husband, to Bagrovo; and, as a matter of course, she came at once. The reports were true: one year of marriage had wrought such a change in Praskovya Ivanovna, that Stepan Mihailovitch could hardly believe it. It was puzzling also, that she now showed towards her cousin a kind of love and gratitude which she had never felt in her girlhood, and was still less likely, one would think, to feel after her marriage. In his eyes, which filled with tears when they met, did she read how much love was concealed under that harsh exterior and that arbitrary violence? Had she any dark foreboding of the future, or did she dimly realise that here was her one support and stay? Or did she feel unconsciously, that the rough cousin who had opposed her happiness and still disliked her husband, loved her better than all the women who had indulged her by falling in with all her childish wishes? I cannot answer these questions; but all were struck by the change. In her careless childhood she had been indifferent to her cousin, thinking little of his rights and her duties; and now she had every reason to resent his treatment of her grandmother; yet she felt to him now as a devoted daughter feels to a tender father when both have long known and loved one another. Whatever the cause of it, this sudden feeling ended only with her life.

But what was the remarkable change that had come over so young a woman as Praskovya Ivanovna, after one year of married life? The foolish child had turned into a sensible but cheerful woman. She frankly confessed that they had all behaved badly to Stepan Mihailovitch. For herself only she pleaded youth and ignorance, and, for her grandmother, her husband, and the rest, their blind devotion to her. She did not ask him to pardon the chief criminal at once; but she hoped that in time, when he saw her happiness and the unwearied care with which her husband managed her property and looked after her estates, her cousin would forgive the culprit and admit him at Bagrovo. My grandfather, though he made no answer at the time, was completely conquered by this appeal. He did not keep his "clever cousin"—as he now began to call her—long at his house; he said that her place was now elsewhere, and soon sent her back to her husband. At parting, he said: "If you are as well satisfied with your husband a year hence, and if he behaves as well to you as he does now, I shall be reconciled to him." A year later, as he knew that Kurolyessoff was behaving well and paying the utmost attention to the management of his wife's property, and found his cousin, when he saw her, looking healthy and happy and cheerful, Stepan Mihailovitch told her to bring her husband with her to Bagrovo. He received Kurolyessoff cordially, frankly confessed his former doubts, and ended by promising to treat him as a kinsman and friend, on condition of continued good conduct. The guest behaved very cleverly: he was less furtive and less insinuating than he used to be, but just as respectful, attentive, and tactful. His bearing was clearly more confident and self-assured; he was giving the closest attention to agricultural problems, on which he asked advice from my grandfather—advice which he took in very quickly and followed with remarkable skill. He was connected in some distant way with Stepan Mihailovitch, and addressed him as "uncle" and treated the rest of the family as relations. Even before the scene of reconciliation or forgiveness, he had rendered a service of some kind to Stepan Mihailovitch; my grandfather was aware of this and thanked him for it now; he even gave him a similar commission to execute. In fact, the visit passed off very well. But, though all the circumstances seemed to speak in favour of Kurolyessoff, my grandfather still said: "The lad is all right: he is clever and sensible; but somehow I don't take to him."

It was in the course of the next year that Stepan Mihailovitch made his move to the district of Ufa. For three years after his marriage, Kurolyessoff behaved with discretion and moderation, or at least concealed his conduct with such care that nothing got round. Besides, he was constantly moving about and spent little time at home. There was only one report, which spread everywhere with exaggeration—that the young landowner was a very strict master. During the next two years he did wonders in the way of improving his wife's property, and established his character for unceasing activity, bold enterprise, and steadfast perseverance in the execution of his schemes. The property had been mismanaged previously: the land had been injured by neglect, and the peasants brought in very little income, not because there was no market for their grain, but because they were spoilt and lazy, and had too little land; and another difficulty was that some of them belonged to three different owners—Mme. Baktéyeff and her daughter as well as Praskovya Ivanovna. Kurolyessoff began by transferring some of the peasants to new ground, while he sold the old land at a good profit. He bought about 20,000 acres of steppe in the Government of Simbirsk (now Samára) and the district of Stavropolsk—excellent arable land, level and easy to plough, with over three feet of black soil. The land lay on the river Berlya, which had some coppices on its banks near the source; and there was also "Bear Hollow," which was left untouched for some time and is now the only forest on the property. He settled 350 serfs here. This estate turned out highly profitable, because it was only a hundred versts from Samára and about fifty from a number of ports on the Volga. It is well known that the value of an estate in our country depends entirely upon the market for grain.

Next, Kurolyessoff went off to the district of Ufa and bought from the Bashkirs 60,000 acres. The soil, though good, was not as productive as that in Simbirsk, but there was a considerable quantity of wood, not only firewood, but timber for building. He planted two colonies there, one of 450 serfs and the other of 50; and he called the larger "Parashino" and the smaller "Ivanovka." As the Simbirsk estate was called "Kurolyessovo," each of the properties bore one of the names of his wife. Such a romantic fancy has always seemed to me curious, considering the sort of man that Kurolyessoff turned out to be; but some will maintain that these inconsistencies are common enough. He also made a seat for himself and his wife in the village of Choorassovo, fifty versts from Simbirsk; this was a separate property of 350 serfs which his wife had inherited from her mother. He built there a splendid mansion, according to the ideas of those days, with all the usual appurtenances; it was finely decorated and furnished, and painted with frescoes inside and out; the chandeliers and bronzes, the silver plate and china, were a wonder to behold. The house was situated on the slope of a hill, from which more than twenty excellent springs came bubbling out. The house and the hill stood in the centre of an orchard, very large and productive, stocked with apple-trees and cherry-trees of every possible sort. The internal arrangements—the service and cooking, the horses and carriages—were luxurious and substantial. There was a constant succession of visitors at Choorassovo, either country neighbours, of whom there were a good many, or people from Simbirsk; they ate and drank, took walks and played cards, sang and talked, and were generally noisy and merry. Kurolyessoff dressed his wife up like a doll, anticipated all her wishes, and entertained her from morning till night, that is, when he happened to be at home. In short, after a few years, he had attained such a position all round, that good people admired him and bad people envied him. Nor did he forget the claims of religion: in place of an old tumbledown wooden erection, he built a new church of stone and equipped it splendidly; he even formed an excellent choir out of the household servants. Praskovya Ivanovna was quite contented and happy. She gave birth to a daughter in the fourth year of her marriage, and to a son a year later, but she soon lost them, the girl in infancy, and the boy when he was three. She had become so attached to the boy that this loss cost her dear. For a whole year her eyes were never dry, her excellent constitution was seriously affected, and she had no more children. Meanwhile her husband's reputation and influence grew by leaps and bounds. It is true that his behaviour to the small landowners was arbitrary and harsh; yet they, if they did not like him, were exceedingly afraid of him; and people of importance thought it only to his credit, that he made his inferiors know their proper place. His absences from home became more frequent and longer, from year to year, especially after the sad year in which Praskovya Ivanovna lost her son and would not be comforted. It is probable that he grew weary of tears and sighs and solitude; for she refused to have any visitors for a whole year. But indeed the most cheerful and noisy society at Choorassovo was no attraction to Kurolyessoff.

Little by little, certain rumours began to spread abroad and gain strength. According to these reports, the Major was not merely strict, as was said before, but cruel; in the privacy of his estates at Ufa he gave himself up to drink and debauchery; he had gathered round him a band, with whom he drank and committed excesses of every kind; and, worse still, several victims had already been killed by him in the fury of his drunken violence. The police and magistrates of the district, it was said, were all his creatures: he had bribed some with money and others with drink and terrorised them all. The small landowners and inferior officials went in terror of their lives: if any dared to act or speak against him, they were seized in broad daylight and imprisoned in cellars or corn-kilns, where they were fed on bread and water and suffered the pangs of cold and hunger; and some were unmercifully flogged with an instrument called a "cat." Kurolyessoff had a special fancy for this implement, which was merely a leather whip with seven tails and knots at the end of each tail. They remained for some time after Kurolyessoff's death in a store-room at Parashino, for show, not for use; and I saw them there myself; they were burnt by my father when he inherited the property. These reports were only too well founded: the reality far surpassed the timid whisper of rumour. Kurolyessoff's thirst for blood, inflamed to madness by strong drink, grew unchecked to its full proportions, till it presented one of those horrible spectacles at which humanity shudders and turns sick. The instinct of the tiger is terrible indeed, when combined with the reasoning power of a man.

At last the rumours were changed into certain knowledge; and of all the people with whom Praskovya Ivanovna lived—relations, neighbours, and servants, every one knew the real truth about Kurolyessoff. When he returned to Choorassovo from the scene of his exploits, he always showed the same respect to rank, the same friendly attention to his equals, the same anxiety to please his wife. She had now got over her loss and had recovered health and spirits; the house was as full of visitors as it used to be, and something was always going on. At Choorassovo, Kurolyessoff never struck any of the servants, leaving the bailiff and the butler in sole possession of this amusement; but they all knew about him and trembled at a mere look. Even relations and intimate friends showed some discomfort and embarrassment in his company. But Praskovya Ivanovna noticed nothing, or, if she did, ascribed it to a quite different cause—the involuntary respect which every one felt for her husband's remarkable success as a landowner, his splendid establishment, and his general intelligence and firmness of purpose. Sensible people who loved Praskovya Ivanovna, when they saw her perfectly composed and happy, were glad of her ignorance and hoped it might last as long as possible. There were, no doubt, some women among her dependants and humble neighbours whose tongues itched uncommonly, and who felt a strong desire to pay the Major out for his contemptuous treatment of them, by disclosing the truth; but, apart from the fear they could not help feeling, which would probably not have deterred them, there was another obstacle which prevented the fulfilment of their kind intentions. It was simply impossible to bring any tales against her husband to Praskovya Ivanovna. She was clever, keen-sighted, and determined; and, as soon as she detected any hidden innuendo to the detriment of Kurolyessoff, she knitted her dark eyebrows and said in her downright way that any offence of the kind would be punished by perpetual exclusion from her house. As the natural result of such a significant warning, nobody ventured to interfere in what was not their business. There were two servants in the house, a favourite attendant of her late father's and her own old nurse, whom she specially favoured, though they were not admitted to such close intimacy as old servants often were in those days; but they too were powerless. To them it was a matter of life and death that their mistress should know the real truth about her husband; for they had near relations who were personal attendants of Kurolyessoff's and were suffering beyond endurance from their master's cruelty. At last they determined to tell the whole story to their mistress. They chose a time when she was alone, and went together to her room; but the old nurse had hardly mentioned Kurolyessoff's name, when Praskovya Ivanovna flew into a violent passion. She told the woman that, if she ever again ventured to open her mouth against her master, she would banish her from her presence for ever and send her to live at Parashino. Thus all possible channels were blocked, and all mouths were stopped, that might have informed against the criminal. Praskovya Ivanovna loved her husband and trusted him absolutely. She knew that people like to meddle with what does not concern them, and like to trouble the water, that they may catch fish; and she had made up her mind at once and laid down an absolute rule, to listen to no tales against her husband. It is an excellent rule, and indispensable for the preservation of domestic peace. But there is no rule that does not admit of exceptions; and perhaps, in the present case, the resolute temper and strong will of the wife, added to the fact that all the wealth belonged to her, might have checked the husband at the outset of his career. As a sensible man, he would not have cared to deprive himself of all the advantages of a luxurious life; he would not have gone to such extremes or given such free play to his monstrous passions. It is more likely that, like many other men, he would have taken his pleasures in moderation and with precaution.

Thus several years went by, during which Kurolyessoff gave himself up without restraint to his evil tendencies. His degeneration was rapid, and at last he began to commit incredible crimes, and always with impunity. I shall not describe in detail the kind of life he led on his estates, especially at Parashino, and also in the villages of the district; the story would be too repulsive. I shall say no more than is necessary to convey a true conception of this formidable man. During the early years when his whole attention was given to organising his wife's estates, he deserved to be called the most far-seeing, practical, and watchful of agents. To all the infinitely various and troublesome business, involved in removing peasants and settling them down in distant holdings, he gave his personal and unremitting attention. He kept constantly in view one object only, the well-being of his dependants. He could spend money where it was needed; he saw that it came to hand at the right time and in the right quantity; he anticipated all the wants and requirements of the settlers. He accompanied them himself for a great part of their journey, and met them himself at the end of it, where they found everything prepared for their reception. It is true that he was too severe and even cruel in the punishment of culprits; but he was just, and could keep his eyes shut at times. From time to time he allowed himself a little relaxation, when he disappeared for a day or two to amuse himself; but he could throw off the effects of his debauchery like water off a duck's back, and come to work again with fresh vigour.