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Michael Strogoff
Michael Strogoff
or
The Courier of the Czar
by Jules Verne
Michael Strogoff
BOOK I
CHAPTER I A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE
"SIRE, a fresh dispatch."
"Whence?"
"From Tomsk?"
"Is the wire cut beyond that city?"
"Yes, sire, since yesterday."
"Telegraph hourly to Tomsk, General, and keep me informed of all that
occurs."
"Sire, it shall be done," answered General Kissoff.
These words were exchanged about two hours after midnight, at the
moment when the fete given at the New Palace was at the height of its
splendor.
During the whole evening the bands of the Preobra-jensky and Paulowsky
regiments had played without cessation polkas, mazurkas, schottisches,
and waltzes from among the choicest of their repertoires. Innumerable
couples of dancers whirled through the magnificent saloons of the
palace, which stood at a few paces only from the "old house of
stones"--in former days the scene of so many terrible dramas, the
echoes of whose walls were this night awakened by the gay strains of
the musicians.
The grand-chamberlain of the court, was, besides, well seconded in his
arduous and delicate duties. The grand-dukes and their aides-de-camp,
the chamberlains-in-waiting and other officers of the palace, presided
personally in the arrangement of the dances. The grand duchesses,
covered with diamonds, the ladies-in-waiting in their most exquisite
costumes, set the example to the wives of the military and civil
dignitaries of the ancient "city of white stone." When, therefore,
the signal for the "polonaise" resounded through the saloons, and the
guests of all ranks took part in that measured promenade, which on
occasions of this kind has all the importance of a national dance, the
mingled costumes, the sweeping robes adorned with lace, and uniforms
covered with orders, presented a scene of dazzling splendor, lighted
by hundreds of lusters multiplied tenfold by the numerous mirrors
adorning the walls.
The grand saloon, the finest of all those contained in the New Palace,
formed to this procession of exalted personages and splendidly dressed
women a frame worthy of the magnificence they displayed. The rich
ceiling, with its gilding already softened by the touch of time,
appeared as if glittering with stars. The embroidered drapery of the
curtains and doors, falling in gorgeous folds, assumed rich and varied
hues, broken by the shadows of the heavy masses of damask.
Through the panes of the vast semicircular bay-windows the light, with
which the saloons were filled, shone forth with the brilliancy of a
conflagration, vividly illuminating the gloom in which for some hours
the palace had been shrouded. The attention of those of the guests not
taking part in the dancing was attracted by the contrast. Resting in
the recesses of the windows, they could discern, standing out dimly in
the darkness, the vague outlines of the countless towers, domes, and
spires which adorn the ancient city. Below the sculptured balconies
were visible numerous sentries, pacing silently up and down, their
rifles carried horizontally on the shoulder, and the spikes of their
helmets glittering like flames in the glare of light issuing from the
palace. The steps also of the patrols could be heard beating time on
the stones beneath with even more regularity than the feet of the
dancers on the floor of the saloon. From time to time the watchword
was repeated from post to post, and occasionally the notes of a
trumpet, mingling with the strains of the orchestra, penetrated into
their midst. Still farther down, in front of the facade, dark masses
obscured the rays of light which proceeded from the windows of the New
Palace. These were boats descending the course of a river, whose
waters, faintly illumined by a few lamps, washed the lower portion of
the terraces.
The principal personage who has been mentioned, the giver of the fete,
and to whom General Kissoff had been speaking in that tone of respect
with which sovereigns alone are usually addressed, wore the simple
uniform of an officer of chasseurs of the guard. This was not
affectation on his part, but the custom of a man who cared little for
dress, his contrasting strongly with the gorgeous costumes amid which
he moved, encircled by his escort of Georgians, Cossacks, and
Circassians--a brilliant band, splendidly clad in the glittering
uniforms of the Caucasus.
This personage, of lofty stature, affable demeanor, and physiognomy
calm, though bearing traces of anxiety, moved from group to group,
seldom speaking, and appearing to pay but little attention either to
the merriment of the younger guests or the graver remarks of the
exalted dignitaries or members of the diplomatic corps who represented
at the Russian court the principal governments of Europe. Two or
three of these astute politicians--physiognomists by virtue of their
profession-- failed not to detect on the countenance of their host
symptoms of disquietude, the source of which eluded their penetration;
but none ventured to interrogate him on the subject.
It was evidently the intention of the officer of chasseurs that his
own anxieties should in no way cast a shade over the festivities; and,
as he was a personage whom almost the population of a world in itself
was wont to obey, the gayety of the ball was not for a moment checked.
Nevertheless, General Kissoff waited until the officer to whom he had
just communicated the dispatch forwarded from Tomsk should give him
permission to withdraw; but the latter still remained silent. He had
taken the telegram, he had read it carefully, and his visage became
even more clouded than before. Involuntarily he sought the hilt of his
sword, and then passed his hand for an instant before his eyes, as
though, dazzled by the brilliancy of the light, he wished to shade
them, the better to see into the recesses of his own mind.
"We are, then," he continued, after having drawn General Kissoff aside
towards a window, "since yesterday without intelligence from the Grand
Duke?"
"Without any, sire; and it is to be feared that in a short time
dispatches will no longer cross the Siberian frontier."
"But have not the troops of the provinces of Amoor and Irkutsk, as
those also of the Trans-Balkan territory, received orders to march
immediately upon Irkutsk?"
"The orders were transmitted by the last telegram we were able to send
beyond Lake Baikal."
"And the governments of Yeniseisk, Omsk, Semipolatinsk, and
Tobolsk--are we still in direct communication with them as before the
insurrection?"
"Yes, sire; our dispatches have reached them, and we are assured at
the present moment that the Tartars have not advanced beyond the
Irtish and the Obi."
"And the traitor Ivan Ogareff, are there no tidings of him?"
"None," replied General Kissoff. "The head of the police cannot state
whether or not he has crossed the frontier."
"Let a description of him be immediately dispatched to Nijni-Novgorod,
Perm, Ekaterenburg, Kasirnov, Tioumen, Ishim, Omsk, Tomsk, and to all
the telegraphic stations with which communication is yet open."
"Your majesty's orders shall be instantly carried out."
"You will observe the strictest silence as to this."
The General, having made a sign of respectful assent, bowing low,
mingled with the crowd, and finally left the apartments without his
departure being remarked.
The officer remained absorbed in thought for a few moments, when,
recovering himself, he went among the various groups in the saloon,
his countenance reassuming that calm aspect which had for an instant
been disturbed.
Nevertheless, the important occurrence which had occasioned these
rapidly exchanged words was not so unknown as the officer of the
chasseurs of the guard and General Kissoff had possibly supposed. It
was not spoken of officially, it is true, nor even officiously, since
tongues were not free; but a few exalted personages had been informed,
more or less exactly, of the events which had taken place beyond the
frontier. At any rate, that which was only slightly known, that which
was not matter of conversation even between members of the corps
diplomatique, two guests, distinguished by no uniform, no decoration,
at this reception in the New Palace, discussed in a low voice, and
with apparently very correct information.
By what means, by the exercise of what acuteness had these two
ordinary mortals ascertained that which so many persons of the highest
rank and importance scarcely even suspected? It is impossible to say.
Had they the gifts of foreknowledge and foresight? Did they possess a
supplementary sense, which enabled them to see beyond that limited
horizon which bounds all human gaze? Had they obtained a peculiar
power of divining the most secret events? Was it owing to the habit,
now become a second nature, of living on information, that their
mental constitution had thus become really transformed? It was
difficult to escape from this conclusion.
Of these two men, the one was English, the other French; both were
tall and thin, but the latter was sallow as are the southern
Provencals, while the former was ruddy like a Lancashire gentleman.
The Anglo-Norman, formal, cold, grave, parsimonious of gestures and
words, appeared only to speak or gesticulate under the influence of a
spring operating at regular intervals. The Gaul, on the contrary,
lively and petulant, expressed himself with lips, eyes, hands, all at
once, having twenty different ways of explaining his thoughts, whereas
his interlocutor seemed to have only one, immutably stereotyped on his
brain.
The strong contrast they presented would at once have struck the most
superficial observer; but a physiognomist, regarding them closely,
would have defined their particular characteristics by saying, that if
the Frenchman was "all eyes," the Englishman was "all ears."
In fact, the visual apparatus of the one had been singularly perfected
by practice. The sensibility of its retina must have been as
instantaneous as that of those conjurors who recognize a card merely
by a rapid movement in cutting the pack or by the arrangement only of
marks invisible to others. The Frenchman indeed possessed in the
highest degree what may be called "the memory of the eye."
The Englishman, on the contrary, appeared especially organized to
listen and to hear. When his aural apparatus had been once struck by
the sound of a voice he could not forget it, and after ten or even
twenty years he would have recognized it among a thousand. His ears,
to be sure, had not the power of moving as freely as those of animals
who are provided with large auditory flaps; but, since scientific men
know that human ears possess, in fact, a very limited power of
movement, we should not be far wrong in affirming that those of the
said Englishman became erect, and turned in all directions while
endeavoring to gather in the sounds, in a manner apparent only to the
naturalist. It must be observed that this perfection of sight and
hearing was of wonderful assistance to these two men in their
vocation, for the Englishman acted as correspondent of the Daily
Telegraph, and the Frenchman, as correspondent of what newspaper, or
of what newspapers, he did not say; and when asked, he replied in a
jocular manner that he corresponded with "his cousin Madeleine." This
Frenchman, however, neath his careless surface, was wonderfully shrewd
and sagacious. Even while speaking at random, perhaps the better to
hide his desire to learn, he never forgot himself. His loquacity even
helped him to conceal his thoughts, and he was perhaps even more
discreet than his confrere of the Daily Telegraph. Both were present
at this fete given at the New Palace on the night of the 15th of July
in their character of reporters.
It is needless to say that these two men were devoted to their mission
in the world--that they delighted to throw themselves in the track of
the most unexpected intelligence--that nothing terrified or
discouraged them from succeeding--that they possessed the
imperturbable sang froid and the genuine intrepidity of men of their
calling. Enthusiastic jockeys in this steeplechase, this hunt after
information, they leaped hedges, crossed rivers, sprang over fences,
with the ardor of pure-blooded racers, who will run "a good first" or
die!
Their journals did not restrict them with regard to money-- the
surest, the most rapid, the most perfect element of information known
to this day. It must also be added, to their honor, that neither the
one nor the other ever looked over or listened at the walls of private
life, and that they only exercised their vocation when political or
social interests were at stake. In a word, they made what has been for
some years called "the great political and military reports."
It will be seen, in following them, that they had generally an
independent mode of viewing events, and, above all, their
consequences, each having his own way of observing and appreciating.
The French correspondent was named Alcide Jolivet. Harry Blount was
the name of the Englishman. They had just met for the first time at
this fete in the New Palace, of which they had been ordered to give an
account in their papers. The dissimilarity of their characters, added
to a certain amount of jealousy, which generally exists between rivals
in the same calling, might have rendered them but little sympathetic.
However, they did not avoid each other, but endeavored rather to
exchange with each other the chat of the day. They were sportsmen,
after all, hunting on the same ground. That which one missed might be
advantageously secured by the other, and it was to their interest to
meet and converse.
This evening they were both on the look out; they felt, in fact, that
there was something in the air.
"Even should it be only a wildgoose chase," said Alcide Jolivet to
himself, "it may be worth powder and shot."
The two correspondents therefore began by cautiously sounding each
other.
"Really, my dear sir, this little fete is charming!" said Alcide
Jolivet pleasantly, thinking himself obliged to begin the conversation
with this eminently French phrase.
"I have telegraphed already, 'splendid!'" replied Harry Blount calmly,
employing the word specially devoted to expressing admiration by all
subjects of the United Kingdom.
"Nevertheless," added Alcide Jolivet, "I felt compelled to remark to
my cousin--"
"Your cousin?" repeated Harry Blount in a tone of surprise,
interrupting his brother of the pen.
"Yes," returned Alcide Jolivet, "my cousin Madeleine. It is with her
that I correspond, and she likes to be quickly and well informed, does
my cousin. I therefore remarked to her that, during this fete, a sort
of cloud had appeared to overshadow the sovereign's brow."
"To me, it seemed radiant," replied Harry Blount, who perhaps, wished
to conceal his real opinion on this topic.
"And, naturally, you made it 'radiant,' in the columns of the Daily
Telegraph."
"Exactly."
"Do you remember, Mr. Blount, what occurred at Zakret in 1812?"
"I remember it as well as if I had been there, sir," replied the
English correspondent.
"Then," continued Alcide Jolivet, "you know that, in the middle of a
fete given in his honor, it was announced to the Emperor Alexander
that Napoleon had just crossed the Niemen with the vanguard of the
French army. Nevertheless the Emperor did not leave the fete, and
notwithstanding the extreme gravity of intelligence which might cost
him his empire, he did not allow himself to show more uneasiness."
"Than our host exhibited when General Kissoff informed him that the
telegraphic wires had just been cut between the frontier and the
government of Irkutsk."
"Ah! you are aware of that?"
"I am!"
"As regards myself, it would be difficult to avoid knowing it, since
my last telegram reached Udinsk," observed Alcide Jolivet, with some
satisfaction.
"And mine only as far as Krasnoiarsk," answered Harry Blount, in a no
less satisfied tone.
"Then you know also that orders have been sent to the troops of
Nikolaevsk?"
"I do, sir; and at the same time a telegram was sent to the Cossacks
of the government of Tobolsk to concentrate their forces."
"Nothing can be more true, Mr. Blount; I was equally well acquainted
with these measures, and you may be sure that my dear cousin shall
know of them to-morrow."
"Exactly as the readers of the Daily Telegraph shall know it also, M.
Jolivet."
"Well, when one sees all that is going on. . . ."
"And when one hears all that is said. . . ."
"An interesting campaign to follow, Mr. Blount."
"I shall follow it, M. Jolivet!"
"Then it is possible that we shall find ourselves on ground less safe,
perhaps, than the floor of this ball-room."
"Less safe, certainly, but--"
"But much less slippery," added Alcide Jolivet, holding up his
companion, just as the latter, drawing back, was about to lose his
equilibrium.
Thereupon the two correspondents separated, pleased that the one had
not stolen a march on the other.
At that moment the doors of the rooms adjoining the great reception
saloon were thrown open, disclosing to view several immense tables
beautifully laid out, and groaning under a profusion of valuable china
and gold plate. On the central table, reserved for the princes,
princesses, and members of the corps diplomatique, glittered an
epergne of inestimable price, brought from London, and around this
chef-d'oeuvre of chased gold reflected under the light of the lusters
a thousand pieces of most beautiful service from the manufactories of
Sevres.
The guests of the New Palace immediately began to stream towards the
supper-rooms.
At that moment. General Kissoff, who had just re-entered, quickly
approached the officer of chasseurs.
"Well?" asked the latter abruptly, as he had done the former time.
"Telegrams pass Tomsk no longer, sire."
"A courier this moment!"
The officer left the hall and entered a large antechamber adjoining.
It was a cabinet with plain oak furniture, situated in an angle of the
New Palace. Several pictures, amongst others some by Horace Vernet,
hung on the wall.
The officer hastily opened a window, as if he felt the want of air,
and stepped out on a balcony to breathe the pure atmosphere of a
lovely July night. Beneath his eyes, bathed in moonlight, lay a
fortified inclosure, from which rose two cathedrals, three palaces,
and an arsenal. Around this inclosure could be seen three distinct
towns: Kitai-Gorod, Beloi-Gorod, Zemlianai-Gorod--European, Tartar,
and Chinese quarters of great extent, commanded by towers, belfries,
minarets, and the cupolas of three hundred churches, with green domes,
surmounted by the silver cross. A little winding river, here and there
reflected the rays of the moon.
This river was the Moskowa; the town Moscow; the fortified inclosure
the Kremlin; and the officer of chasseurs of the guard, who, with
folded arms and thoughtful brow, was listening dreamily to the sounds
floating from the New Palace over the old Muscovite city, was the
Czar.
CHAPTER II RUSSIANS AND TARTARS
THE Czar had not so suddenly left the ball-room of the New Palace,
when the fete he was giving to the civil and military authorities and
principal people of Moscow was at the height of its brilliancy,
without ample cause; for he had just received information that serious
events were taking place beyond the frontiers of the Ural. It had
become evident that a formidable rebellion threatened to wrest the
Siberian provinces from the Russian crown.
Asiatic Russia, or Siberia, covers a superficial area of 1,790,208
square miles, and contains nearly two millions of inhabitants.
Extending from the Ural Mountains, which separate it from Russia in
Europe, to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, it is bounded on the south
by Turkestan and the Chinese Empire; on the north by the Arctic Ocean,
from the Sea of Kara to Behring's Straits. It is divided into several
governments or provinces, those of Tobolsk, Yeniseisk, Irkutsk, Omsk,
and Yakutsk; contains two districts, Okhotsk and Kamtschatka; and
possesses two countries, now under the Muscovite dominion-- that of
the Kirghiz and that of the Tshouktshes. This immense extent of
steppes, which includes more than one hundred and ten degrees from
west to east, is a land to which criminals and political offenders are
banished.
Two governor-generals represent the supreme authority of the Czar over
this vast country. The higher one resides at Irkutsk, the far capital
of Eastern Siberia. The River Tchouna separates the two Siberias.
No rail yet furrows these wide plains, some of which are in reality
extremely fertile. No iron ways lead from those precious mines which
make the Siberian soil far richer below than above its surface. The
traveler journeys in summer in a kibick or telga; in winter, in a
sledge.
An electric telegraph, with a single wire more than eight thousand
versts in length, alone affords communication between the western and
eastern frontiers of Siberia. On issuing from the Ural, it passes
through Ekaterenburg, Kasirnov, Tioumen, Ishim, Omsk, Elamsk, Kolyvan,
Tomsk, Krasnoiarsk, Nijni-Udinsk, Irkutsk, Verkne-Nertschink,
Strelink, Albazine, Blagowstenks, Radde, Orlomskaya, Alexandrowskoe,
and Nikolaevsk; and six roubles and nineteen copecks are paid for
every word sent from one end to the other. From Irkutsk there is a
branch to Kiatka, on the Mongolian frontier; and from thence, for
thirty copecks a word, the post conveys the dispatches to Pekin in a
fortnight.
It was this wire, extending from Ekaterenburg to Nikolaevsk, which had
been cut, first beyond Tomsk, and then between Tomsk and Kolyvan.
This was why the Czar, to the communication made to him for the second
time by General Kissoff, had answered by the words, "A courier this
moment!"
The Czar remained motionless at the window for a few moments, when the
door was again opened. The chief of police appeared on the threshold.
"Enter, General," said the Czar briefly, "and tell me all you know of
Ivan Ogareff."
"He is an extremely dangerous man, sire," replied the chief of police.
"He ranked as colonel, did he not?"
"Yes, sire."
"Was he an intelligent officer?"
"Very intelligent, but a man whose spirit it was impossible to subdue;
and possessing an ambition which stopped at nothing, he became
involved in secret intrigues, and was degraded from his rank by his
Highness the Grand Duke, and exiled to Siberia."
"How long ago was that?"
"Two years since. Pardoned after six months of exile by your
majesty's favor, he returned to Russia."
"And since that time, has he not revisited Siberia?"
"Yes, sire; but he voluntarily returned there," replied the chief of
police, adding, and slightly lowering his voice, "there was a time,
sire, when NONE returned from Siberia."
"Well, whilst I live, Siberia is and shall be a country whence men CAN
return."
The Czar had the right to utter these words with some pride, for
often, by his clemency, he had shown that Russian justice knew how to
pardon.
The head of the police did not reply to this observation, but it was
evident that he did not approve of such half-measures. According to
his idea, a man who had once passed the Ural Mountains in charge of
policemen, ought never again to cross them. Now, it was not thus
under the new reign, and the chief of police sincerely deplored it.
What! no banishment for life for other crimes than those against
social order! What! political exiles returning from Tobolsk, from
Yakutsk, from Irkutsk! In truth, the chief of police, accustomed to
the despotic sentences of the ukase which formerly never pardoned,
could not understand this mode of governing. But he was silent,
waiting until the Czar should interrogate him further. The questions
were not long in coming.
"Did not Ivan Ogareff," asked the Czar, "return to Russia a second
time, after that journey through the Siberian provinces, the object of
which remains unknown?"
"He did."
"And have the police lost trace of him since?"
"No, sire; for an offender only becomes really dangerous from the day
he has received his pardon."
The Czar frowned. Perhaps the chief of police feared that he had gone
rather too far, though the stubbornness of his ideas was at least
equal to the boundless devotion he felt for his master. But the Czar,
disdaining to reply to these indirect reproaches cast on his policy,
continued his questions. "Where was Ogareff last heard of?"
"In the province of Perm."
"In what town?"
"At Perm itself."
"What was he doing?"
"He appeared unoccupied, and there was nothing suspicious in his
conduct."
"Then he was not under the surveillance of the secret police?"
"No, sire."
"When did he leave Perm?"
"About the month of March?"
"To go...?"
"Where, is unknown."
"And it is not known what has become of him?"
"No, sire; it is not known."
"Well, then, I myself know," answered the Czar. "I have received
anonymous communications which did not pass through the police
department; and, in the face of events now taking place beyond the
frontier, I have every reason to believe that they are correct."
"Do you mean, sire," cried the chief of police, "that Ivan Ogareff has
a hand in this Tartar rebellion?"
"Indeed I do; and I will now tell you something which you are ignorant
of. After leaving Perm, Ivan Ogareff crossed the Ural mountains,
entered Siberia, and penetrated the Kirghiz steppes, and there
endeavored, not without success, to foment rebellion amongst their
nomadic population. He then went so far south as free Turkestan;
there, in the provinces of Bokhara, Khokhand, and Koondooz, he found
chiefs willing to pour their Tartar hordes into Siberia, and excite a
general rising in Asiatic Russia. The storm has been silently
gathering, but it has at last burst like a thunderclap, and now all
means of communication between Eastern and Western Siberia have been
stopped. Moreover, Ivan Ogareff, thirsting for vengeance, aims at the
life of my brother!"
The Czar had become excited whilst speaking, and now paced up and down
with hurried steps. The chief of police said nothing, but he thought
to himself that, during the time when the emperors of Russia never
pardoned an exile, schemes such as those of Ivan Ogareff could never
have been realized. Approaching the Czar, who had thrown himself into
an armchair, he asked, "Your majesty has of course given orders so
that this rebellion may be suppressed as soon as possible?"
"Yes," answered the Czar. "The last telegram which reached
Nijni-Udinsk would set in motion the troops in the governments of
Yenisei, Irkutsk, Yakutsk, as well as those in the provinces of the
Amoor and Lake Baikal. At the same time, the regiments from Perm and
Nijni-Novgorod, and the Cossacks from the frontier, are advancing by
forced marches towards the Ural Mountains; but some weeks must pass
before they can attack the Tartars."
"And your majesty's brother, his Highness the Grand Duke, is now
isolated in the government of Irkutsk, and is no longer in direct
communication with Moscow?"
"That is so."
"But by the last dispatches, he must know what measures have been
taken by your majesty, and what help he may expect from the
governments nearest Irkutsk?"
"He knows that," answered the Czar; "but what he does not know is,
that Ivan Ogareff, as well as being a rebel, is also playing the part
of a traitor, and that in him he has a personal and bitter enemy. It
is to the Grand Duke that Ogareff owes his first disgrace; and what is
more serious is, that this man is not known to him. Ogareff's plan,
therefore, is to go to Irkutsk, and, under an assumed name, offer his
services to the Grand Duke. Then, after gaining his confidence, when
the Tartars have invested Irkutsk, he will betray the town, and with
it my brother, whose life he seeks. This is what I have learned from
my secret intelligence; this is what the Grand Duke does not know; and
this is what he must know!"
"Well, sire, an intelligent, courageous courier . . ."
"I momentarily expect one."
"And it is to be hoped he will be expeditious," added the chief of
police; "for, allow me to add, sire, that Siberia is a favorable land
for rebellions."
"Do you mean to say. General, that the exiles would make common cause
with the rebels?" exclaimed the Czar.
"Excuse me, your majesty," stammered the chief of police, for that was
really the idea suggested to him by his uneasy and suspicious mind.
"I believe in their patriotism," returned the Czar.
"There are other offenders besides political exiles in Siberia," said
the chief of police.
"The criminals? Oh, General, I give those up to you! They are the
vilest, I grant, of the human race. They belong to no country. But
the insurrection, or rather, the rebellion, is not to oppose the
emperor; it is raised against Russia, against the country which the
exiles have not lost all hope of again seeing--and which they will see
again. No, a Russian would never unite with a Tartar, to weaken, were
it only for an hour, the Muscovite power!"
The Czar was right in trusting to the patriotism of those whom his
policy kept, for a time, at a distance. Clemency, which was the
foundation of his justice, when he could himself direct its effects,
the modifications he had adopted with regard to applications for the
formerly terrible ukases, warranted the belief that he was not
mistaken. But even without this powerful element of success in regard
to the Tartar rebellion, circumstances were not the less very serious;
for it was to be feared that a large part of the Kirghiz population
would join the rebels.
The Kirghiz are divided into three hordes, the greater, the lesser,
and the middle, and number nearly four hundred thousand "tents," or
two million souls. Of the different tribes some are independent and
others recognize either the sovereignty of Russia or that of the Khans
of Khiva, Khokhand, and Bokhara, the most formidable chiefs of
Turkestan. The middle horde, the richest, is also the largest, and
its encampments occupy all the space between the rivers Sara Sou,
Irtish, and the Upper Ishim, Lake Saisang and Lake Aksakal. The
greater horde, occupying the countries situated to the east of the
middle one, extends as far as the governments of Omsk and Tobolsk.
Therefore, if the Kirghiz population should rise, it would be the
rebellion of Asiatic Russia, and the first thing would be the
separation of Siberia, to the east of the Yenisei.
It is true that these Kirghiz, mere novices in the art of war, are
rather nocturnal thieves and plunderers of caravans than regular
soldiers. As M. Levchine says, "a firm front or a square of good
infantry could repel ten times the number of Kirghiz; and a single
cannon might destroy a frightful number."
That may be; but to do this it is necessary for the square of good
infantry to reach the rebellious country, and the cannon to leave the
arsenals of the Russian provinces, perhaps two or three thousand
versts distant. Now, except by the direct route from Ekaterenburg to
Irkutsk, the often marshy steppes are not easily practicable, and some
weeks must certainly pass before the Russian troops could reach the
Tartar hordes.
Omsk is the center of that military organization of Western Siberia
which is intended to overawe the Kirghiz population. Here are the
bounds, more than once infringed by the half-subdued nomads, and there
was every reason to believe that Omsk was already in danger. The line
of military stations, that is to say, those Cossack posts which are
ranged in echelon from Omsk to Semipolatinsk, must have been broken in
several places. Now, it was to be feared that the "Grand Sultans,"
who govern the Kirghiz districts would either voluntarily accept, or
involuntarily submit to, the dominion of Tartars, Mussulmen like
themselves, and that to the hate caused by slavery was not united the
hate due to the antagonism of the Greek and Mussulman religions. For
some time, indeed, the Tartars of Turkestan had endeavored, both by
force and persuasion, to subdue the Kirghiz hordes.
A few words only with respect to these Tartars. The Tartars belong
more especially to two distinct races, the Caucasian and the
Mongolian. The Caucasian race, which, as Abel de Remusat says, "is
regarded in Europe as the type of beauty in our species, because all
the nations in this part of the world have sprung from it," includes
also the Turks and the Persians. The purely Mongolian race comprises
the Mongols, Manchoux, and Thibetans.
The Tartars who now threatened the Russian Empire, belonged to the
Caucasian race, and occupied Turkestan. This immense country is
divided into different states, governed by Khans, and hence termed
Khanats. The principal khanats are those of Bokhara, Khokhand,
Koondooz, etc. At this period, the most important and the most
formidable khanat was that of Bokhara. Russia had already been
several times at war with its chiefs, who, for their own interests,
had supported the independence of the Kirghiz against the Muscovite
dominion. The present chief, Feofar-Khan, followed in the steps of his
predecessors.
The khanat of Bokhara has a population of two million five hundred
thousand inhabitants, an army of sixty thousand men, trebled in time
of war, and thirty thousand horsemen. It is a rich country, with
varied animal, vegetable, and mineral products, and has been increased
by the accession of the territories of Balkh, Aukoi, and Meimaneh. It
possesses nineteen large towns. Bokhara, surrounded by a wall
measuring more than eight English miles, and flanked with towers, a
glorious city, made illustrious by Avicenna and other learned men of
the tenth century, is regarded as the center of Mussulman science, and
ranks among the most celebrated cities of Central Asia. Samarcand,
which contains the tomb of Tamerlane and the famous palace where the
blue stone is kept on which each new khan must seat himself on his
accession, is defended by a very strong citadel. Karschi, with its
triple cordon, situated in an oasis, surrounded by a marsh peopled
with tortoises and lizards, is almost impregnable, Is-chardjoui is
defended by a population of twenty thousand souls. Protected by its
mountains, and isolated by its steppes, the khanat of Bokhara is a
most formidable state; and Russia would need a large force to subdue
it.
The fierce and ambitious Feofar now governed this corner of Tartary.
Relying on the other khans--principally those of Khokhand and
Koondooz, cruel and rapacious warriors, all ready to join an
enterprise so dear to Tartar instincts--aided by the chiefs who ruled
all the hordes of Central Asia, he had placed himself at the head of
the rebellion of which Ivan Ogareff was the instigator. This traitor,
impelled by insane ambition as much as by hate, had ordered the
movement so as to attack Siberia. Mad indeed he was, if he hoped to
rupture the Muscovite Empire. Acting under his suggestion, the
Emir--which is the title taken by the khans of Bokhara--had poured his
hordes over the Russian frontier. He invaded the government of
Semipolatinsk, and the Cossacks, who were only in small force there,
had been obliged to retire before him. He had advanced farther than
Lake Balkhash, gaining over the Kirghiz population on his way.
Pillaging, ravaging, enrolling those who submitted, taking prisoners
those who resisted, he marched from one town to another, followed by
those impedimenta of Oriental sovereignty which may be called his
household, his wives and his slaves--all with the cool audacity of a
modern Ghengis-Khan. It was impossible to ascertain where he now was;
how far his soldiers had marched before the news of the rebellion
reached Moscow; or to what part of Siberia the Russian troops had been
forced to retire. All communication was interrupted. Had the wire
between Kolyvan and Tomsk been cut by Tartar scouts, or had the Emir
himself arrived at the Yeniseisk provinces? Was all the lower part of
Western Siberia in a ferment? Had the rebellion already spread to the
eastern regions? No one could say. The only agent which fears neither
cold nor heat, which can neither be stopped by the rigors of winter
nor the heat of summer, and which flies with the rapidity of
lightning-- the electric current--was prevented from traversing the
steppes, and it was no longer possible to warn the Grand Duke, shut up
in Irkutsk, of the danger threatening him from the treason of Ivan
Ogareff.
A courier only could supply the place of the interrupted current. It
would take this man some time to traverse the five thousand two
hundred versts between Moscow and Irkutsk. To pass the ranks of the
rebels and invaders he must display almost superhuman courage and
intelligence. But with a clear head and a firm heart much can be done.
"Shall I be able to find this head and heart?" thought the Czar.