Leo Tolstoy: His Life and Work. Paul Birukoff
me said: `And why did you not stop him?' Her words grieved me still more … I never thought that we could interfere in such things, and yet it appeared that we could. But it was too late, and the dreadful deed had been committed.
"I return to what I knew about my father, and how I represent to myself his life. His occupation consisted in managing the estate, and above all in litigation, which was very frequent at that time, and I think particularly so with my father, who had to disentangle my grandfather's affairs. These lawsuits often compelled my father to leave home, besides which he used often to go out shooting and hunting. His chief sporting companions were his old friend, a wealthy bachelor, Kireyevskiy, Yazikov, Glebov, and Islenyev. My father, in common with other landowners of that time, had special favorites among the house serfs. Of these there were two brothers, Petrusha and Matyusha, both handsome, smart fellows, who helped in the sport. At home my father, besides his occupations with his business and with us children, was greatly given to reading. He collected a library consisting, in accordance with the taste of the time, of French classics, historical works, and books on natural history by Buffon, Cuvier, etc. My aunt told me that my father had made a rule not to buy new books until he had read those previously purchased. But although he read much, it is difficult to believe that he mastered all these Histoires des Croisades and des Papes which he purchased for his library. As far as I can judge, he had no leanings toward science, but was on a level with the educated people of his time. Like most men of the first period of Aleksandr's reign, who served in the campaigns of the years '13, '14, and '15, he was not what is now called a Liberal, but, merely as a matter of self-respect, he regarded it as impossible to serve either during the latter part of Aleksandr's reign or during the reign of Nicholas. Not only did he never serve himself, but even all his friends were similarly people of independent character, who did not serve, and who were in some opposition to the government of Nicholas I. During all my childhood and even youth, our family had no intimate relations with any government official. Naturally I understood nothing about this in childhood, but I did understand that my father never humbled himself before any one, nor altered his brisk, merry, and often chaffing tone. And this feeling of self-respect which I witnessed in him increased my love, my admiration for him. I remember him in his study, where we used to come to say good-night to him and sometimes merely to play, where he with a pipe in his mouth used to sit on a leather couch and caress us, and sometimes, to our immense delight, used to allow us to mount the couch behind his back, while he would continue reading, or talking to the steward standing by the door, or to S.I. Yazikov, my godfather, who often stayed with us. I remember how he used to come downstairs to us and draw pictures which appeared to us the height of perfection, as well as how he once made me declaim to him some verses of Pushkin, which had taken my fancy, and which I had learned by heart: `To the Sea,' `Fare thee well, free element,' and to Napoleon, `The wonderful fate is accomplished, the great man is extinguished,' and so on. He was evidently impressed by the pathos with which I recited these verses, and, having listened to the end, he in a significant way exchanged glances with Yazikov, who was there. I understood that he saw something good in this recitation of mine, and at this I was very happy. I remember his merry jokes and stories at dinner and supper, and how my grandmother and aunt and we children laughed listening to him. I remember also his journeys to town, and the wonderfully fine appearance he had when he put on his frock-coat and tight-fitting trousers. But I principally remember him in connection with hunting. I remember his departures from the house for the hunt. It afterward always seemed to me that Pushkin took his description of the departure for the hunt in Count Nulin from my father. I remember how we used to go for walks with him, how the young greyhounds who had followed him gambolled on the unmown fields in which the high grass flicked them and tickled their bellies, how they flew round with their tails on one side, and how he admired them. I remember how, on the day of the hunting festival of the 1st September, we all drove out in a lineyka[1] to the cover, where a fox had been let loose, and how the foxhounds pursued him, and, somewhere out of our sight, the greyhounds caught him.[2] I particularly well remember the baiting of a wolf. It was quite near the house. We all came out to look. A big gray wolf, muzzled, and with his legs tied, was brought out in a cart. He lay quietly, only looking through the corners of his eyes at those who approached him. At a place behind the garden the wolf was taken out, held to the ground with pitchforks, and his legs untied. He began to struggle and jerk about, fiercely biting the bit of wood tied into his mouth. At last this was untied at the back of his neck, and some one called out, `Off!' The forks were lifted, the wolf got up and stood still for about ten seconds, but there was a shout raised, and the dogs were let loose. The wolf, the dogs, and the horsemen all flew down the field; and the wolf escaped. I remember how my father, scolding and angrily gesticulating, returned home.
"But the pleasantest recollections of him were those of his sitting with grandmother on the sofa and helping her to play Patience. My father was polite and tender with everyone, but to grandmother he was always particularly tenderly subservient. They used to sit, grandmother, with her long chin, in a cap with ruche and a bow, on the sofa, playing Patience, and from time to time taking pinches from a gold snuffbox. Close to the sofa, in an arm-chair, sat Petrovna, a Tula tradeswoman who dealt in fire-arms, dressed in her military jacket, and spinning thread, and at intervals tapping her reel against the wall, in which she had already knocked a hole. My aunts are sitting in arm-chairs, and one of them is reading out loud. In one of the arm-chairs, having arranged a comfortable depression in it, lies black-and-tan Milka, my father's favorite fast greyhound, with beautiful black eyes. We come to say good-night, and sometimes sit here. We always take leave of grandmother and our aunts by kissing their hands. I remember once, in the middle of the game of Patience and of the reading, my father interrupts my aunt, points to the looking-glass, and whispers something. We all look in the same direction. It was the footman Tikhon, who, knowing that my father was in the drawing-room, was going into his study to take some tobacco from a big, leather, folding tobacco-pouch. My father sees him in the looking-glass, and examines his figure, carefully stepping on tiptoe. My aunts are laughing. Grandmother for a long time does not understand, and when she does she cheerfully smiles. I am enchanted by my father's kindness, and taking leave of him with special tenderness, kiss his white muscular hand. I loved my father very much, but did not know how strong this love of mine for him was until he died."[3]
To the above valuable information about his parents, given by Tolstoy himself, we need add only a few facts taken from historical documents.
Count Nikolay Ilich Tolstoy, the father of Lev Tolstoy, was born in 1797. In the documents of the Kazan University, among the papers connected with Tolstoy's admission as a student, one of some interest is the certificate of the military service of his father, Nikolay Ilich.
We give the material part of the text of this document, dated January 29, 1825.[4]
"The bearer of this, Lieutenant-Colonel Nikolay Ilich, the son of Tolstoy, as appears by the official documents, is twenty-eight years old, has the order of St. Vladimir of the fourth class, belongs to the nobility, owns no serfs. Being a government secretary, he entered his Majesty's service as a cornet in 1812, June 11, in the Irkutsk regular regiment of Cossacks, whence he was transferred to the Irkutsk regiment of hussars in 1812, August 18; he distinguished himself and was promoted lieutenant in 1813, April 27; and in the same year was promoted second cavalry captain. He further distinguished himself, and was transferred in the same rank to the regiment of horse-guards in 1814, August 8. From this he was transferred to the regiment of the prince of Orange with the rank of major in 1817, December 11. Having resigned, owing to illness, he was rewarded with the rank of lieutenant-colonel in 1819, March 14. He received an appointment in the Military Orphanage as assistant to the superintendent in 1821, December 15. During his service he took part in various campaigns. In 1813 he was often in action; on April 2 he was taken prisoner by the enemy before the fall of Paris, and, for his distinguished conduct in battle, was rewarded as above described with the ranks of lieutenant and captain of cavalry, and the order of St. Vladimir of the fourth class with ribbon."
From the same document we learn that count N.I. Tolstoy resigned his post in the Military Orphanage and definitely retired from service, "for family reasons," January 8, 1824.
After his resignation Count Nikolay Ilich Tolstoy settled in Yasnaya Polyana. At that time he and his wife had only one child, their son Nikolay,