1. The head colonist—the master of the house and possessor of the estate. 2. His assistant, who joins him in the cultivation of his farm. 3. The military peasant, who likewise takes part in agricultural labour. 4. The reserve-man, who supplies the place of the soldier in case of need. 5. The cantonist, between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. 6. The boys, from eight to thirteen years old. 7. Male children under the age of eight years. 8. The female population. 9. The invalids.
The colonies in the south of Russia comprise 380 villages in the provinces of Kherson, Kharkov, and Iekaterainoslav. The crown has here 30,000 peasants. Every village contains two or three squadrons, according to its size; thus they contain altogether 80,000 men. These military districts, as the regions are called in which the colonies occur, are so strictly divided from the remaining portions of the provinces, that no man can enter them without a special passport, granted by the military authorities. Their constitution is entirely military, even the postal service being executed by soldiers. At every station a subaltern receives the order for post-horses and inspects it; another soldier harnesses the horses; a third greases the wheels; and a fourth mounts the box as coachman. As soon as the military coat appears in sight, every peasant on the high-road stops, plants his hands stiffly against his sides, and stands in a military attitude of “attention.”
The laws are administered in the first instance by a detachment from every squadron, one of the officers acting as president. From the decision of this tribunal an appeal can be made to the regimental council, which is composed of the colonel, two captains, and six deputies from among the colonists. The judgments of this court are laid before the commandant-in-chief of the colonies, against whose decision neither soldiers nor colonists may protest, officers alone having the privilege of appealing to the emperor. In the headquarters of every regiment a copy of the code of laws is kept, and in most military villages churches are to be found, where a priest, who belonged to the church before the village was transformed into a military colony, performs the service.
The success of the military colonies in Russia fell far short of the expectations of their founders. To the unfortunate crown serfs they brought an intolerable aggravation of their wretchedness, by making them feel their slavery even in their homes and their domestic affections. The consequence was seen in the madness of their revenge on several occasions when they broke out into rebellion, as for instance at Novgorod, in 1832. “Nothing,” says Dr. Lee, “could be sold without the knowledge of the officers in these military colonies. It is said that when a hen lays an egg, it is necessary to make an entry of the fact in a register kept for this and other equally important purposes. I was told that when a priest was speaking to some of these peasants about the punishments of hell, they answered they dreaded them not, because a worse hell than that in which they were doomed to pass their whole lives here, could not possibly exist.
“The military colonies,” Lee continues, “please one at first sight from the order and cleanliness everywhere prevailing in them; but their population is said to be wretched in the highest degree. When the emperor Alexander was here, some years ago, he went round visiting every house; and on every table he found a dinner prepared, one of the principal articles of which consisted of a young pig roasted. The prince Volkhonski suspected there was some trick, and cut off the tail of the pig and put in his pocket. On entering the next house the pig was presented, but without the tail, upon which Prince Volkhonski said to the emperor, ‘I think this is an old friend.’ The emperor demanded his meaning, when he took out the tail from his pocket and applied it to the part from which it had been removed. The emperor did not relish the jest, and it was supposed this piece of pleasantry led to his disgrace. A more effectual, though bold and dangerous method of exposing to the emperor the deceptions carried on throughout the military colonies under Count Araktcheiev could not have been adopted than that which Prince Volkhonski had recourse to on this occasion. From that time Count Araktcheiev became his bitter enemy.”
ALEXANDER AND THE GREEK UPRISING
[1822 A.D.]
We have now touched upon all that is worthy of note in Alexander’s home policy during the last ten years of his reign. That portion of his life was spent in perpetual motion and perpetual agitation to little or no good purpose, whilst his proper functions were delegated to Count Araktcheiev, whose name was a word of terror to everyone in Russia. Absorbed by affairs foreign to the interests of his empire, Alexander was consistent or persevering in nothing but his efforts to enforce the dark, stagnant policy of Austria, which had become that of the Holy Alliance. He was present at the congresses of Aix-la-Chapelle, Troppau, Laibach, and Verona, and zealously participated in all the repressive measures concerted there. He was the soul of the deliberations held at the latter place in 1822, and whilst he refused aid to the Greeks in their rebellion against their “legitimate sovereign,” the sultan, he was all but inclined to use constraint to his ally, France, to compel her, in spite of the opposition of England, to take upon herself the execution of the violent measures resolved on in behalf of the execrable Ferdinand of Spain. A speech made at this congress to Châteaubriand, the French plenipotentiary, has been praised by some of the emperor’s biographers for its “noble sentiments.” To us it seems well worthy of record for its unconscious sophistry and signal display of self-delusion.
“I am very happy,” said the emperor to Châteaubriand, “that you came to Verona, because you may now bear witness to the truth. Would you have believed, as our enemies are so fond of asserting, that the alliance is only a word intended to cover ambition? That might have received a colour of truth under the old order of things, but now all private interests disappear when the civilisation of the world is imperilled. Henceforward there can be no English, French, Russian, Prussian, or Austrian policy; there can only be a general policy, involving the salvation of all, admitted in common by kings and peoples. It is for me, the first of all, to declare my appreciation of the principles on which I founded the Holy Alliance. An opportunity presents itself; it is the Greek insurrection. Certainly no event appeared more adapted to my personal interests, to those of my subjects, and to the feelings and prejudices of the Russians, than a religious war against Turkey; but in the troubles of the Peloponnesus I saw revolutionary symptoms, and from that moment I held aloof. What has not been done to dissolve the alliance? Attempts have been made by turns to excite my cupidity, or to wound my self-love; I have been openly outraged; the world understood me very badly if it supposes that my principles could be shaken by vanities, or could give way before resentment. No, no; I will never separate myself from the monarchs with whom I am united. It should be permitted to kings to form public alliances, to protect themselves against secret associations. What temptations can be offered to me? What need have I to extend my empire? Providence has not placed under my command eight hundred thousand soldiers to satisfy my ambition, and to conserve those principles of order on which society must repose.”
This was not the language of “noble sentiment,” but of an intellect narrowed by sinister influences, perverted to the views of a most sordid policy, and flattering itself on its own debasement with the maudlin cant of philanthropy.