My Russian Home—The Horrors of Famine—The Peasants' Heroism—Starving yet Patient—The Society of Friends—I am Invited to Meeting—Magnificent Munificence—Among the Starving—Terrible Hardships—Some Illustrations—The Stoical Russian—Cinder Bread


The Tamboff Steppes have a great fascination for me. I was always very happy at Novo Alexandrofka, our country home. It possesses the beautiful church built by my son. Then I have there my two other attractions, the two splendid schools, each capable of accommodating over one hundred pupils, that for boys being called St. John's, after my husband's patron saint; and the girls' school, of which I am directress, is called St. Olga's. My son and I were always ardent believers in the importance of education, for in it lies the whole of the world. Good teachers are necessary above all, and bad schools do more harm by their existence than no schools at all, and there is nothing more wonderful or beautiful in Russia than to see the passionate eagerness of the peasants to have their children educated. I am happy to say that, thanks to our excellent teachers and the principal director, a very superior priest of our church, all our examinations have resulted in very fruitful success.

{125}

At Novo Alexandrofka, my husband, my mother, my brother, Alexander Kiréeff, my son (the founder of the church) Alexander Novikoff—are already in the family vault. The last addition will be myself, and then the vault shall be definitely closed.

Some ten years ago when I was present at the final examination of the girls, no less than nineteen fulfilled the requirements of the Tamboff Education Committee, and were all qualified to become school-teachers. Since then we have had only excellent results of our schools.

The most unhappy time I ever spent at my home was during the terrible famine in Russia in 1892. I could not remain in England while my country was suffering so. I felt that my place was at Tamboff, and I accordingly left a land of plenty for poor, desolate Russia. I remember only too vividly those terrible days of famine. At one time my son Alexander had under his charge no less than 33,000 men, women and children, all depending upon him to find them food.

I call to mind one terrible day that brought from Alexander this tragic telegram: "Funds exhausted, send me something, position indescribable." It was terrible, tragic.

All the work done by the Relief Committees was voluntary. The Grand Duchess Constantine fed 2000 people a day.

Even in those days we strove to guard against reckless charitable effort, which can only have a demoralising influence. I call to mind one person who insisted on his name being unknown, offered my son 1000 roubles to be spent in providing food {126} for the inhabitants of a certain village on the condition that the amount were regarded only as a loan, which should be repaid and subsequently spent on that same village for educational purposes. This donor was doubly a donor by the proviso he made.

It was a tragedy to see splendid men in the prime of their lives, walking about with stony faces and hollow eyes. With them were women clothed only in wretched rags, and little children shivering in the cold wind. They would crowd round the relief parties, which drove about in sledges, holding out their hands saying:

"We have sold our last horses, cows and sheep, we have pawned all our winter clothing; we have nothing left to sell. We eat but once a day, stewed cabbage and stewed pumpkin, and many of us have not eaten that."

This was true. There were some among them who had not tasted food for days. It was agonising to hear these poor people pleading to us for mercy lest they die of starvation. As they spoke in dull voices, tears would spring up into the eyes of strong men and course slowly down their cheeks into their rough beards; but there were no complaints, no cries, just the slow, monotonous chant, broken by the sobs of worn-out mothers and the cries of hungry children.

We had neither wood nor coal, only straw and the refuse of stables, for fuel. The Volga was frozen, and in some provinces corn was absolutely unprocurable.

MY SON. ALEXANDER NOVIKOFF
MY SON. ALEXANDER NOVIKOFF

In that great calamity the help given by the English Society of Friends was very remarkable. {127} After some preliminary enquiry, I was invited to attend a Committee Meeting. There were, I think, between twenty and thirty present, and I was the only woman. A series of questions was addressed to me about the state of things in Russia. I exaggerated nothing. I concealed nothing. I told them that an unforeseen blow had befallen sixteen of our provinces and found us unprepared to combat its effects. My son, Alexander Novikoff, was just organising a committee in the district of Kazloff (Tamboff province), and, thanks to him, I knew the question fairly well. "The Friends" listened attentively, but said very little. Mr. Braithwaite, the chairman, only expressed a hope that "God will help our efforts." Nothing more: but without losing a day they went to work, and worked splendidly. They not only collected about ￡40,000, but sent their delegates—Mr. Edmond Brookes and Mr. William Fox—to distribute their help on the spot amongst the famine-stricken peasantry.

Do you know one of the results of such practical application of sympathy?

It is now generally admitted in my country that unofficial Englishmen are "kind and generous," and, when left to their own true nature, are capable of being friends deserving trust and confidence.

I also received, quite unsolicited, liberal subscriptions from friends in the City, which enabled me to send without delay much needed relief to the starving peasants in my district of Tamboff. The "English bread," as they called it, is remembered and spoken of even now.

Perhaps the best description of that terrible {128} famine, and of the efforts to relieve it, is that recorded in an interview with me by the representative of The Week's News, which I therefore transcribe, the more so because that enterprising journal sent out a special Commission to our famine districts to report upon the situation there. Here is the interview:


"NOVO ALEXANDROFKA,
    "12th February, 1892.

"A beautiful night drive across the snow from Bogojawlensky brought me to Madame Olga Novikoff's estate during Wednesday night. The thermometer stood at 36 degs. Fahrenheit below freezing point, yet the air was so calm that the cold was scarcely noticeable. A heavy hoar frost covered the trees, and the slight mist gave a weird aspect to the desert of snow that stretched away on every side. Without a house on the horizon to direct him, the jamschick drove out into the night, and the sledge glided along over the crackling snow.

"Mr. Alexander Novikoff, the son of Madame Olga Novikoff, was at Novo Alexandrofka to welcome me, and put me in a position to judge of the state of things in his district of the Tambov Government. He is Zemski Natchalnick, and very popular amongst the peasants whose little differences he has to judge.

"In the early morning we started off to visit the hospital in the village of Tooriévo. After all that has been said of the condition of Russian hospitals at this moment I was agreeably surprised, both at the cleanliness and the absence of patients whose {129} illnesses might be directly attributed to the famine. I, however, found there the first case of hunger typhus that I have seen, and learned from the surgeon, Dr. Malof, that in one village close at hand there were no fewer than 150 similar cases.

"This is one of the strongest proofs of the hardships through which the people are now passing. It is the disease that always follows in the wake of war and famine, and although the mortality amongst those seized is relatively small, the fact that numerous cases are occurring is significant. They arise from stomach disorders, brought on by insufficient and bad food, and the disease then takes the course of ordinary typhus.

"Tooriévo is a long straggling village, and contains about 1000 huts. The harvest in the neighbourhood was fairly good, and the population will probably weather the storm. Another large village in the district, Céslavino, with its 7000 inhabitants, is suffering intensely, the majority of the inhabitants being in receipt of relief. I found a particularly bad state of things in the village of Spasskoe. Amongst the 1500 inhabitants there were but three huts in which there was sufficient corn to keep the occupants till the next harvest. Most of the families are already receiving help from the Government, and the private committee presided over by M. Novikoff.

"I will mention but few cases in this village where the monotony of misery is so apparent in the deserted street and the dilapidated huts. This is the only village I have visited in this neighbourhood where the uniformity of distress compares {130} with the village in the south of Tambov that I described last week.

"Paul Axenoff is the head of a family of nine, comprised of two old people, Axenoff and his wife, and five children. They were receiving aid from both the authorities and the committee, but they had run through everything except three pounds of bread that was to last them for some weeks to come. The same thing happened to them last month, and in spite of all their efforts to secure food they ate nothing for three days prior to the last delivery of the month's flour.

"The horse and cow have both been sold, and the outhouses pulled down and used for fuel. Straw is usually employed in Russia for heating, but this year there is none, so the peasants are glad to find anything to burn. There is very little wood in this part of the country, and what there is is young, and has evidently been planted by the landowners. With the exception of a sheepskin cloak worn by one of the boys who came in from school while I was in the hut, the members of Axenoff's family had nothing to wear but the rags in which they stood.

"In this hut I discovered a fresh article of food—a soup made of hot water and weeds. They didn't eat it for the good it might do them, but simply for the sake of having something hot. At another hut in this village I found a similar concoction made with boiling water and chopped-up hay.

"All the bread I found in the next hovel was broken, and had been begged from house to house. The occupants had burnt the wood, straw, and outhouses they ............