The Red Reign: The True Story of an Adventurous Year in RussiaDurland, Kellogg
History
The Red Reign: The True Story of an Adventurous Year in Russia
Durland, Kellogg
Russia -- Politics and government -- 1894-1917
Three old muzhiks with long, white beards and clear, blue eyes told the
story of how they and five others had gone as a deputation to the then
governor of the province, hoping that he would open the way to the Czar
for them. As a result of their faith they were stripped to the waist and
flogged. Another was of a much larger deputation--more than sixty;
thirty of these were sent to prison for a short time, and thirty-six
received one hundred blows each. When they found that we were
sympathetic listeners, they begged us to come and see the roofs of some
of their houses which were being daily torn away to feed the horses. As
the roofs were largely composed of straw-thatch, there was a certain
amount of nourishment in them--a last resource in the fight against the
universal hunger.
“Do you have big land-owners in America?” one man asked eagerly. “Are
people prevented from earning enough to live on year after year?” All of
the questions asked us were vital. They were frank enough about owning
to revolt. “What’s to be done?” they said. “The mere renting of land is
eighteen rubles (nine dollars) a dessiatine for a season. Where’s the
money to come from to pay for this? The land is ours. We do the work,
and we should have it.”
That very week a Cossack officer and a police officer had summoned all
the people of the village together and warned them that if any of the
land belonging to the landlords was touched, that “the village would be
fired from the four corners, and they would not be responsible for what
happened to the people in the village.” The land referred to belonged to
two vast estates whose owners had not even seen them for
years--_several hundred thousand acres lying absolutely idle_!
The welcome we received at Pesky, our next stopping-place, was, if
possible, more demonstrative than at Tsaritzin. The group of
“intellectuals” here numbered four, two women and two men. They had
gathered there in early November and in six months we were their first
visitors. One of the students was acting as village school-master. The
other was devoting himself entirely to the famine relief-work.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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