“I mean that if your Majesty’s plans had been adopted before, and we had moved forward slowly and steadily, cutting down forests and destroying the supplies of food, the Caucasus would have been subjugated long ago.
I attribute Hadji Murad’s surrender entirely to his having come to the conclusion that they can hold out no longer.”
“True,” said Nicholas.
Although the plan of a gradual advance into the enemy’s territory by means of felling forests and destroying the food supplies was Ermolov’s and Velyaminov’s plan, and was quite contrary to Nicholas’s own plan of seizing Shamil’s place of residence and destroying that nest of robbers — which was the plan on which the dargo expedition in 1845 (that cost so many lives) had been undertaken — Nicholas nevertheless attributed to himself also the plan of a slow advance and a systematic felling of forests and devastation of the country.
It would seem that to believe the plan of a slow movement by felling forests and destroying food supplies to have been his own would have necessitated hiding the fact that he had insisted on quite contrary operations in 1845.
But he did not hide it and was proud of the plan of the 1845 expedition as well as of the plan of a slow advance — though the two were obviously contrary to one another.
Continual brazen flattery from everybody round him in the teeth of obvious facts had brought him to such a state that he no longer saw his own inconsistencies or measured his actions and words by reality, logic, or even simple common sense; but was quite convinced that all his orders, however senseless, unjust, and mutually contradictory they might be, became reasonable, just, and mutually accordant simply because he gave them.
His decision in the case next reported to him — that of the student of the Academy of Medicine — was of the that senseless kind.
The case was as follows: A young man who had twice failed in his examinations was being examined a third time, and when the examiner again would not pass him, the young man whose nerves were deranged, considering this to be an injustice, seized a pen- knife from the table in a paroxysm of fury, and rushing at the professor inflicted on him several trifling wounds.
“What’s his name?” asked Nicholas.
“Bzhezovski.”
“A Pole?”
“Of Polish descent and a roman Catholic,” answered Chernyshov.
Nicholas frowned.
He had done much evil to the Poles.
To justify that evil he had to feel certain that all Poles were rascals, and he considered them to be such and hated them in proportion to the evil he had done them.
“Wait a little,” he said, closing his eyes and bowing his head.
Chernyshov, having more than once heard Nicholas say so, knew that when the Emperor had to take a decision it was only necessary for him to concentrate his attention for a few moments and the spirit moved him, and the best possible decision presented itself as though an inner voice had told him what to do.
He was now thinking how most fully to satisfy the feeling of hatred against the Poles which this incident had stirred up within him, and the inner voice suggested the following decision.
He took the report and in his large handwriting wrote on its margin with three orthographical mistakes:
“Diserves deth, but, thank God, we have no capitle punishment, and it is not for me to introduce it.
Make him fun the gauntlet of a thousand men twelve times. — Nicholas.” He signed, adding his unnaturally huge flourish.
Nicholas knew that twelve thousand strokes with the regulation rods were not only certain death with torture, but were a superfluous cruelty, for five thousand strokes were sufficient to kill the strongest man.
But it pleased him to be ruthlessly cruel and it also pleased him to think that we have abolished capital punishment in Russia.
Having written his decision about the student, he pushed it across to Chernyshov.
“There,” he said, “read it.”
Chernyshov read it, and bowed his head as a sign of respectful amazement at the wisdom of the decision.
“Yes, and let all the students be present on the drill- ground at the punishment,” added Nicholas.
“It will do them good!
I will abolish this revolutionary spirit and will tear it up by the roots!” he thought.
“It shall be done,” replied Chernyshov; and after a short pause he straightened the tuft on his forehead and returned to the Caucasian report.
“What do you command me to write in reply to Prince Vorontsov’s dispatch?”
“To keep firmly to my system of destroying the dwellings and food supplies in Chechnya and to harass them by raids.” answered Nicholas.
“And what are your Majesty’s commands with reference to Hadji Murad?” asked Chernyshov.
“Well, Vorontsov writes that he wants to make use of him in the Caucasus.”
“Is it not dangerous?” said Chernyshov, avoiding Nicholas’s gaze.
“Prince Vorontsov is too confiding, I am afraid.”
“And you — what do you think?” asked Nicholas sharply, detecting Chernyshov’s intention of presenting Vorontsov’s decision in an unfavorable light.
“Well, I should have thought it would be safer to deport him to Central Russia.”
“You would have thought!” said Nicholas ironically.
“But I don’t think so, and agree with Vorontsov.
Write to him accordingly.”
“It shall be done,” said Chernyshov, rising and bowing himself out.
Dolgoruky also bowed himself out, having during the whole audience only uttered a few words (in reply to a question from Nicholas) about the movement of the army.
After Chernyshov, Nicholas received Bibikov, General- Governor of the Western Provinces.
Having expressed his approval of the measures taken by Bibikov against the mutinous peasants who did not wish to accept the orthodox Faith, he ordered him to have all those who did not submit tried by court-martial. that was equivalent to sentencing them to run the gauntlet.
He also ordered the editor of a newspaper to be sent to serve in the ranks of the army for publishing information about the transfer of several thousand State peasants to the imperial estates.
“I do this because I consider it necessary,” said Nicholas, “and I will not allow it to be discussed.”
Bibikov saw the cruelty of the order concerning the Uniate peasants and the injustice of transferring State peasants (the only free peasants in Russia in those days) to the Crown, which meant making them serfs of the Imperial family.
But it was impossible to express dissent.