Sixteen years in Siberia: Some experiences of a Russian revolutionistDeich, L. G. (Lev Grigor'evich)
History
Sixteen years in Siberia: Some experiences of a Russian revolutionist
Deich, L. G. (Lev Grigor'evich)
Deich, L. G. (Lev Grigor'evich), 1855-1941; Exiles -- Russia (Federation) -- Siberia -- Biography
The day of the trial came. A great van with barred windows rumbled into
the prison yard. I was put into it, a sergeant of police took his seat
beside me, and the door was fastened outside with a mighty padlock. The
gendarme who had been so long my companion in captivity mounted the box;
a company of infantry escorted us, and the cortège was finally
surrounded by Cossacks on horseback. The Chief of Police led the van,
and a commissary of police formed the rearguard. It might have been
supposed that at least a dozen robber chiefs, each with his horde of
banditti, were being transported through the town. As we passed along
the streets this unusual procession aroused the attention of the public,
and I saw people crowding to the windows. Meanwhile I chatted quietly
with the police-sergeant. It seemed that he had been on duty in Kiëv
twenty years before, and knew my family.
“Who would have thought that little Deutsch I often used to see would
ever come to this!” said he, and began following up old recollections,
talking of my father and our house. My thoughts flew back over the
years, and scenes of my childhood rose before me.
The court was filled with a carefully selected “public,” consisting of
officers and their womenfolk, people connected with the law, and other
representatives of the official world. The examination of the witnesses
produced nothing of any interest. Most of those originally called were
either dead or had disappeared, and those few who did attend made
inconclusive statements, their memories being vague after the lapse of
eight years—some, indeed, refused to answer on that account. The
principal witness, Gorinòvitch himself, for some reason did not appear,
but his deposition was read. I on my side took little part in the
proceedings, and had renounced my right to call witnesses for the
defence. But I was moved and excited; the large audience, mostly
hostile, that gazed on me worked on my feelings. I sought for a familiar
face, but saw nobody I knew except the Public Prosecutor of the Civil
Courts, who had conducted my examination in prison.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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