"I hope," I said, "that he is now better?"

"Yes," he said, "he is; he's quite well now--quite well," he repeated with emphasis.

The Emperor speaks English perfectly, fluently, and with ease, and I have been told that it is the language most generally, if not always, used in the ordinary daily life of the imperial family.

I have taken up some time in giving these personal impressions, but I think it is quite worth while to do so just now as the Emperor was so particularly gracious and kind, and thus enabled me to form some idea of what he is, just as a man and a father in his own home; and that I know will appeal to my own countrymen when wondering what is likely to be his policy and aim as a ruler of a vast empire.

A man can only _do_ what he _is_, whether he be in the highest or the lowest positions in the world; and he always brings out, sooner or later, what he is at heart. It must therefore be a very great source of confidence to us all just now, when we believe that the providence of G.o.d has brought the British and the Russian Empires together, not for temporary, but for enduring objects, to know, as I feel we may consider that we do know, that the Emperor of all the Russias is a man we can all respect and trust, precisely as we respect and trust our own Sovereign--as one whose ideals are those of domestic duty and family life on the one hand, and the real interests and well-being of the labouring and toiling millions of his people on the other.

A somewhat scandalous book was written last year which I won't mention by name, lest curiosity should lead those who have not read it to do so, which gave a most unfavourable impression of the Emperor and the imperial family. It was not, however, written by an Englishman; and, without questioning in any way the writer's _bona fides_, I am bound to say, and very confidently and energetically, that I have never yet met one of my own countrymen who has had to do with the Emperor of Russia, financially, diplomatically, or in audience, who has not expressed himself to me about him in the same appreciative terms as I have here used myself.

Take, for instance, what Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace has written only a few months ago.[8] "The antiquated idea that Tsars are always heartless tyrants who devote much of their time in sending troublesome subjects to Siberia, is now happily pretty well exploded, but the average Englishman is still reluctant to admit that an avowedly autocratic government may be, in certain circ.u.mstances, a useful inst.i.tution. There is no doubt, however, that in the gigantic work of raising Russia to her present level of civilization, the Tsars have played a most important part. As for the present Tsar, he has followed, in a humane spirit, the best traditions of his ancestors. Any one who has had opportunities of studying closely his character and aims, and who knows the difficulties with which he has had to contend, can hardly fail to regard him with sympathy and admiration. Among the qualities which would commend him to Englishmen are his scrupulous honesty and genuine truthfulness. Of these--were I not restrained by fear of committing a breach of confidence--I might give some interesting ill.u.s.trations.

"As a ruler, Nicholas II habitually takes a keen, sympathetic interest in the material and moral progress of his country; and is ever ready to listen attentively and patiently to those who are presumably competent to offer sound advice on the subject. At the same time he is very prudent in action; and this happy combination of zeal and caution, which distinguishes him from his too impetuous countrymen, has been signally displayed in recent years. During the revolutionary agitation which followed close on the disastrous j.a.panese War, when the impetuous would-be reformers wished to overturn the whole existing fabric of administration, and the timid counsellors recommended vigorous retrograde measures, he wisely steered a middle course, which has resulted in the creation of a moderate form of parliamentary inst.i.tutions."

I am not alone, therefore, in the very favourable impression I have formed of the Russian Emperor as a man whom the best of my own countrymen may respect as one like-minded with themselves in his views of life and conduct, and his own countrymen thoroughly trust as a const.i.tutional ruler who, though determined, as he will be advised by his most trusted counsellors, to go cautiously, yet is convinced that a good government's one and chief concern is the well-being of those who are governed, and especially of those who form the lowest cla.s.s in its social scale.

Like Sir Donald Wallace, I too could give instances of the Emperor's straightforward and generous action which show the essential right-mindedness of his nature in a very striking way, if it were possible to do so without breach of confidence. Especially was this the case in a particular instance of which I know, when it was a question of putting his own interests, and even dignity, in a very secondary position. It was one, indeed, in which no great ruler could be expected or asked to do so, but when he learnt himself what was involved he at once did so subordinate his own interests, and has earned in consequence the lasting grat.i.tude of all concerned, and their entire and loyal confidence.

The Russian people are intensely loyal, and, as the overwhelming majority are of the peasant cla.s.s, their loyalty is of that simple, fervid, and trusting character which is seen in their family and village life. They do not speak of the "Emperor" so much as of "The Little Father," and that is how they feel towards him. He is the father of his people and they are his children. If there is anything they object to in legislation it is always put down to officialdom, just as our own Colonies, before the days when they began to "think imperially," used to vent all their displeasure upon "Downing Street" when unwelcome legislation took place, and never upon Queen Victoria (or her government), for whom they had the greatest respect and affection. The Russian peasant too murmurs loudly at times against the governors and their subordinates when he is requested to do something that he does not like, but with a solacing reflection to himself that "The Little Father would put everything right if he only knew."

There is disaffection and serious disloyalty in other quarters, and I shall try my best to describe it and what may very possibly be some of its causes, in my chapter on "Russia's Problem," but the dangerous disaffection, probably already beginning to pa.s.s away, is confined to a few of the largest towns, and does not in any way affect the overwhelming majority of the Emperor's subjects, who are entirely devoted to him and patriotically loyal.

This ought to be remembered also when we are thinking over future relations between our own people and theirs. The Russians are not a downtrodden and oppressed people struggling to throw off the yoke of a harsh and despotic rule, but are contented, loyal, and law-abiding. They do not, however, show their loyalty by any outward expressions such as the "All Highest," and others with which we have been made familiar in the addresses and letters of Germans of high rank, office, and birth, during the war. No such terms exist or are thought of amongst the subjects of the Emperor of Russia. The word Tsar occurs, I believe, in the National Anthem, and Tsaritsa is used occasionally, while there is no such word as Tsarina in the language. But neither Tsar, Emperor, Tsaritsa, or Empress are used, I am told, amongst the ordinary people.

They speak of "_Gosudar_" and "_Gosudarina_" which mean Lord and Lady, or Sir and Madame, and in such general use are these terms, I believe, that a man writing a business letter to a tradesman would begin "Gracious Gosudar." The Tsarevitch Alexis is spoken of amongst the people by a word in perfectly common use, which is no more than the ordinary word for "heir." Loyalty and great respect, it would seem, are quite consistent with great familiarity of thought and expression.

The Emperor is probably spoken of more frequently as Nicolai Alexandrovitch--"Nicholas, son of Alexander"--than by any other t.i.tle, and I feel sure that the Grand Duke Nicholas, Commander-in-Chief, and his doings at head-quarters, have been spoken of all over Russian plains and Siberian steppes this winter as familiarly and as proudly as of some one who had gone from their own village. "Ah! Nicolai Nicolaievitch!

What a man he is! How well he has fought this war! How proud we are of him!" etc., etc. I was told lately of a touching incident which occurred at a great service in Russia (the translation of the remains of a great saint) at which the Grand d.u.c.h.ess Serge was present, and, when she arrived, had gone quietly up to a gallery pew, arranged for her and other great ladies. Soon afterwards an old peasant woman, to whom she had once shown a kindness, arrived, and at once began to inquire:--

"Has Elizabeth come yet?"--the Grand d.u.c.h.ess's Christian name--"I want Elizabeth. She told me when next I came where she was to be sure and ask for her. Where's Elizabeth?"

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess in her exalted gallery caught something of what was going on, and, hearing her own name, at once came down.

"Here I am, little mother!" And then with "Dear Elizabeth!" the old woman threw her arms about her neck and began her story.

Such a thing is only possible in Russia, and yet it is the one country in the world where we have always been led to think that between the highest and the lowest there is that "great gulf fixed," which if not bridged over in this life by sympathy and love, has little hope of being pa.s.sed in the world to come.

Rank and position and high office if worthily filled need no b.u.t.tressing up. Least of all need those who hold them give themselves airs. Their office is enough in itself; and last year, when I had a large party of German youths to take about London, and by the kindness of those concerned took them to see one or two great places where they were most courteously and graciously received--they were the sons of working men in Frankfurt--I was more than pleased to hear one of them say to his friend, "I notice that in England the higher the rank the less the pretence." So it is in Russia. The more exalted the position the more unaffected and simple the one who fills it!

The Grand d.u.c.h.ess Elizabeth, daughter of our own Princess Alice, is probably the best known and the best loved woman in all Moscow, indeed in all Russia, and hereafter will, in all probability, have "Saint"

prefixed to her name. Many do not hesitate to use it even now. Her sad experiences appealed most powerfully to the people's sympathies when she was so tragically widowed a few years ago. Her husband, the Grand Duke Serge, Governor of Moscow, had become extremely unpopular with certain cla.s.ses, and it was well known that his life was in danger; but he knew no fear, and drove out constantly in an open carriage in which the Grand d.u.c.h.ess insisted upon accompanying him. It is said that at length a letter was written to him advising him to leave her behind if he valued her life, and adding significantly, "We have no quarrel with her, nor anything against her." She was, therefore, from that time left at home, his secretary asking to be allowed to go in her place. Again the same kind of letter was received, and he too was left behind; and the Grand Duke, who was no coward, determined to go alone. And then, on the first morning he did so, and not far from his own door, the fatal bomb was thrown, and did its work so effectually that there was nothing left to be seen! He was literally "blown to atoms." Every one in Moscow is said to have heard the terrific explosion, and knew at once. "They have him at last!" The Grand d.u.c.h.ess heard also and rushed immediately to the scene. It may be questioned whether any other woman has ever had such an ordeal as that to face! She had just seen her husband drive away from his home, and in a few moments there was nothing left! I believe a finger with his signet ring was subsequently found, but that was all.

Moscow, which had always respected and admired her, at once gave her whole-hearted sympathy, which soon became a deep and true affection as they learnt that she had determined to give her whole life and income to their poor.

She founded the first order which has been introduced into Russia for women's work amongst the sick and poor. When I was last in Moscow, she explained to me its character, and it seemed to me to be a blend of the Tertiaries of S. Francis and the deaconesses of the primitive church, though the latter is the model she has wished to follow. She told me she had ninety-six sisters in the order now, and that whilst some sick were brought into their own wards many were visited in their own homes. It is this visiting work that she hopes most to develop as time goes on. She is, of course, by Baptism and Confirmation a member of our own Church, and is full of interest and sympathy towards it, and usually attends the Abbey service when in London, though she joined the Orthodox Church of Russia during her married life. This, she told me, was without any influence being brought to bear upon her, and entirely from conviction that it was best for her own religious life in her adopted country.

She wore the simple and grey habit of her order, and it was difficult to realize that she was a princess of the blood, and sister-in-law to the Emperor himself, as she spoke so simply and humbly about her work, and what she hoped still with the blessing of G.o.d to do. She does not cut herself off, however, from life's ordinary relationships, for when later at Tsarskoe Selo, I told the Emperor that I had been able to see her and hear about her work, he said, "She is coming to spend a fortnight with us this very afternoon."

That is what one meets everywhere in Russia, the unconventional and the natural. The superior of a new order, which is an entirely fresh departure, would be expected in any other country to give up everything else in the way of social and family relationships. But in Russia, if a perfectly natural thing like a visit to near relations suggests itself as desirable the visit is duly paid.

It is so always! The splendid and the simple, high rank and humble birth seem to find themselves close together, the rich and the poor unite so easily in a common interest. "A gorgeous imperial procession was pa.s.sing through the palace hall," writes one who saw it at Tsarskoe Selo as a specially grand function, "and two or three maid-servants appeared at the head of a little staircase to look on, wearing print dresses. No one told them to go away."[9] No one would think of it.

The Emperor loves the simple folk he governs, and showed it plainly when in the earlier part of his reign he moved freely amongst them, standing next to peasants and workmen in Moscow, when he stepped into a church to pray. And after he returned from our own country, from the marriage of King George, I read the other day, "somebody asked him what had impressed him most. 'The crowd outside Buckingham Palace waiting to see Queen Victoria drive out,' he said. 'There they waited, hour after hour, and at last a little black carriage came out of the palace-gates.

Very few of the people in the crowd could see the Queen, but they knew that she was there, and they went away satisfied. One day it will be like that in Russia.'" And the writer adds: "I do not think the Emperor's prophecy is likely to be realized in his lifetime; but a day will come when his subjects will forget the mistakes that have been made in his name, and recognize that they owe to him great reforms." I fancy in subsequent editions, for his book well deserves to have them, he will alter those words into "I feel sure that he will live to see it, and not have long to wait."

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Her Imperial Highness the Grand d.u.c.h.ess Elizabeth--The Friend of the Poor._]

FOOTNOTES:

[8] _Our New Ally._

[9] Rothay Reynolds, _My Russian Year_.

CHAPTER VII

A PATERNAL GOVERNMENT

Two years ago, when I was in conversation with one of our leading diplomatists, who has a very intimate knowledge of the Russian people, their Emperor and governing cla.s.ses, I asked him, "Do you not think that the Russian government is the most paternal in its aim and character of all the governments in Europe?"

"Of course I do," he replied; and rather excitedly added, "But when I even hint at such a view of Russian methods to our own countrymen here at home they regard me as if I had taken leave of my senses, and look at me with an incredulous and pitying eye."

It is no wonder that this should be so when our own people still, for the most part, look upon Russia as the land of the knout and banishment, with an oppressive and despotic government which on the least suspicion seizes upon unoffending victims and consigns them to Siberia and the mines, where, chained together, they drag out their lingering existence in unfamiliar and degrading toil. No words are wasted, it is believed, upon the weak and ineffective, but the lash comes stingingly down upon their shoulders. Harsh legislation is the rule, it is thought, and if perchance people rise up in ma.s.ses against it, as they do from time to time, the dreaded Cossack sweeps through the streets, and, at terrible cost to human life, clears them. Again and again I find this is the prevailing idea of Russia, as I am asked if I am not afraid to travel there; and something like it, I have candidly admitted, was my own impression before I went there and saw things for myself. But nothing could be more unlike the actual reality.

The relations of the governing and governed in Russia are really paternal on the one hand and filial on the other, and I hope that I may be able to induce my readers to believe that is true of the greater part of the whole population.

In the first place, the knout is long since gone. No such thing exists now, except as a curiosity, in the whole of Russia, nor has it been used officially since the days of the present Emperor's _great grandfather_!

Next there are the convicts. It is now twenty-five years since Mr. Harry de Windt, the well-known traveller, disproved the lurid accounts which had been given a short time before of the horrors of Siberian prisons.

In his book of 1903 he says, "I have always maintained that were I sentenced to a term of penal servitude I would infinitely prefer to serve it in (some parts of) Siberia than in England." When he puts these words in brackets he is thinking, of course, of the severity of climate and distance from frequented routes, and not of the treatment of the prisoners. He tells at length--s.p.a.ce does not permit me to quote freely as I would like to do--how even criminal convicts are well cared for; and that even the murderers and murderesses amongst them, for there is no capital punishment in Russia, are lodged in wards which are clean and well warmed; that there is a comfortable infirmary connected with a prison, and even a home close at hand, supported by private subscription, for children of the prisoners.

Mr. Foster Fraser also, in his book on _The Real Siberia_--perhaps one of the best known of modern works on that part of the empire--tells us that having been more "thrilled" as a boy by what he had read about Siberian prisons than by Red Indian stories, and knowing that people, the world over, were in the habit of saying, "Only Russia could be so cruel, a civilized country would shrink from such barbarities,"

determined to go and see for himself, and, as is usual with those who go to Russia full of prejudice and dread, the scales fell from his eyes when he visited Irkutsk prison. He found to his surprise that, "It was not the gloomy, sullen-stoned, slit-windowed, iron-barred structure such as are our prisons at home"; and he describes at length a system which will compare favourably with any other prisons in the world, as to discipline, but surpa.s.ses them all in friendliness and freedom from constraint. "What attracted me was the informal relationship between governor and prisoners. The men talked without any restraint, made requests and even jests." But the climax of his experiences of "Siberian horrors" came when he asked to see the women prisoners, and was taken to the "best house in the place," where, on going into the yard, he saw some women "sitting about, and some children playing with a kitten."

"I'll send for the matron," said the governor.

"Is this the prison?" I asked in some amazement.

"Yes--this is the only prison we have in Irkutsk for women."

"It was just a large-sized ordinary house," he goes on, "ab.u.t.ting on the street, but not a single soldier to see. I couldn't help laughing,"

he adds, for the women, who numbered about forty, and had twenty children with them, represented offences which ranged from petty theft up to murder, the five or six murderesses being much the same as the others in appearance and character as far as could be seen. Mr. Fraser felt it was absurd to call such a place a prison, and asked:--

"Do you really mean to say that these women don't go away?"