by Cathy Porter
29th. I spent the day with Seryozha and Masha. This evening Seryozha, my sister Tanya, Dushan Petrovich and I all went for a walk; a beautiful sunset, a prisoner was scything the timothy grass. Seryozha’s state of mind alarms and grieves me. The raids on the land and property at Nikolskoe are taking a threatening character.
6th July. This evening my sister Tanya and I read the Early Morning newspaper. Frightful occurrences in Petrograd: shooting, killing of our own people, looting, rioting. And these bandits are our leaders!* My sister takes it all passionately to heart and follows everything with great interest; I merely suffer deeply.
25th. I have finished a crayon drawing of a thistle (a large burdock). It was very difficult. There is a reference to a thistle in Lev Nik.’s story Hadji Murat.
2nd August. Tanya went to Basovo; she is interested in village politics. I am copying letters.
6th. The peasants are all singing in the village, even the two soldiers sent here to defend us. A lot of hateful visitors.
14th. I did a little copying, then at 8 o’clock I went out with my daughter Tanya to buy provisions. We visited eight shops, including four consumers’ co-operatives, and found nothing apart from ten lettuces and a loaf of rye bread. Famine looms. Dushan Petrovich’s nephew went to Tula, and there too there was nothing to buy. I chattered to Gusev and wish I hadn’t.
20th. Reading the papers takes a lot of time and induces a feeling of horror. I read the Gospels every evening.
22nd. Today I am 73 years old. What a terrible anniversary to be alive! Where are my poor children and what are they doing? And what about my countless grandchildren? My heart aches with the tormenting prospect of famine. I was informed today that ten armed mounted soldiers will be arriving tomorrow with two officers.
25th. It’s sad that relations with my sister are so bad. She flies into a rage at the slightest thing, and is always losing her temper with me and calling me a holy fool because I appear to take things so calmly. But no one sees what takes place in my soul.
28th. As soon as I got up this morning I went with my granddaughter Tanechka to the grave. We put flowers there and swept it clean and tidied it. Then the ten mounted soldiers arrived with their two commanders.
29th. We read Communist Ideas, collected by Posse as a supplement to Life for All. Most interesting!
30th. We read the paper avidly this evening, and with great sorrow. Civil war threatens; Kerensky and Kornilov won’t yield power. I don’t wish to judge them, but this new government has done absolutely nothing for Russia.
1st September. Dreadful rumours on all sides. It’s impossible to get bread, all the ministries have collapsed, the best ministers have left, the best generals have been arrested. I fear Kerensky is mentally ill, with delusions of grandeur.
2nd. I was cheered by my son Misha’s arrival from the Caucasus, where he wants to take his family for the winter. He was in low spirits and I wept when he left.
5th. I went out to the field and picked nine baskets of potatoes.
11th. Incomprehensible manoeuvres in government circles! Kerensky will evidently soon fall; there are so many intrigues and failures, so much love of power and so little understanding of what the country and the people need!
20th. My son Ilyusha arrived this morning, looking thin, old and wretched. He left this evening, and it was sad having to part so soon.
17th October. An agronomist called Volkov drove here from Tula in a motor car. They brought 12 or 10 soldiers—I can’t remember how many—to protect us, and we managed somehow to accommodate them all.* The entire southern part of the Krapivna district has been set on fire.
23rd. There’s a rumour that we’re about to be raided, and some militiamen have come for the night to keep guard over us. None of us slept—we didn’t even take our clothes off.
4th November. Captain Lyzlov and another officer came to say goodbye. The cavalry left today, and tomorrow a hundred light infantrymen will be leaving. Life in the country is becoming more and more frightening, but there’s nowhere else to go.
5th. The hundred infantry soldiers left today, thank God. This evening a senior militiaman arrived from Kosaya Gora with an engineer and four other men from there. It turns out they are going to keep guard over everything, the house and the books; they have spent the past three nights here already. This is most reassuring.
7th. Today is the anniversary of Lev Nikolaevich’s death—seven years have passed and I am still alive! I visited the grave. There were only four visitors—two peasant intellectuals from a distant district and two Tula men.
16th. My sister and I had the idea of reading something to the village boys, but it’s hard to know what. Our peasants came here this evening and held elections to the Committee. None of this is very clear to me. They started talking about an armistice, then read my story about Vanechka.*
23rd. This evening I was notified on the telephone by the chief forester that we will be receiving our food from the Rationing Committee. I read Bulgakov’s Ethics.
1st December. Butovich came to visit and I showed him round Lev Nik.’s rooms; he is very interested in all forms of visual art.
4th. I am living in a dream and a state of terrible turmoil. Crowds of idle people mill around all day—apart from Tanya and me, of course, who are immersed in worries, mainly about food. The presence of all these useless people prevents me from applying myself to anything. My daughter Sasha has arrived at last with Varvara Mikhailovna. I am so pleased to see them, despite all the difficulties we have had in the past—although even then there was a lot of closeness between us. Sasha and my sister sang beautifully this evening.
18th. Time flies, the war continues, famine looms. Sergeenko helps us to get the things we need—rye, macaroni, beans and rice.*
19th. Endless noise and turmoil…I’m happy to have my two daughters and my granddaughter here—my life depends on it. My heart aches for my absent sons.
26th. Tanya finished reading Eugene Onegin today. What a marvellous speech that is of Tatyana’s rebuking Onegin! I hadn’t read the work for a long time—one should always reread old things.
27th. I sewed handkerchiefs, glued some little boxes and played patience. I yearn for my darling Andryusha and absent Lyova.
28th. Yet more visitors to Lev Nik.’s rooms—the officer of a sappers’ regiment called Avenarius, with his comrade and a pretty young girl. There were more soldiers here too—ours—with a guest of theirs.
31st. The last day of a difficult year. This evening Tanya read us ‘What People Live for’. We didn’t see in the New Year, but everyone had dinner with us—12 in all. When I was alone in my room my heart ached for my sons. Where are Lyova and Ilya? Are Seryozha and Misha still alive? What of their families? What of Dora and her eight children? My soul grieves for them all.
1918
February—first allied landings in North Russia. Germany resumes invasion. 3rd March—the Bolsheviks finally agree to sign Brest Litovsk peace treaty with Germany, which grants their aggressor a large percentage of Russia’s industrial centres and farming land. May—Civil War begins in earnest, when Czech prisoners of war, backed by France and Britain, rise up against the Bolshevik government. This signals a wave of revolts, financed by Britain, France, America and Japan, and led by former tsarist generals and admirals known as White Guards. Anticipating an invasion of Moscow, the Bolsheviks move the capital to Petrograd. Summer—Bolsheviks’ fortunes at their lowest ebb. July—Tsar Nicholas II killed by the Bolsheviks. 11th November—war ends.
April—official opening of Yasnaya Polyana Society in Tula, which takes control of the estate. Tanya Sukhotina becomes caretaker of the Yasnaya Polyana Museum. Food is in short supply and life is hard. Tanya knits scarves to sell in the market to support her mother, sister and daughter. May—Bolshevik commissars visit Yasnaya Polyana. November—Tanya Sukhotina replaces secretary of Yasnaya Polyana Society and takes control of the house. Lev Tolstoy leaves Russia with his wife and children to live in Sweden.
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1st January. This evening we lit the candles on the Christmas tree and invited 20 children in and gave them all something. After the Christmas tree we had a “democratic ball”, and everyone danced—soldiers and prisoners, our servants and maids and the two Tanyas.
4th. Sergeenko went to Tula for kerosene—we sit here with one lamp and a wax candle. For 4 gallons of bad kerosene we now pay 60 rubles.
5th. During the recent storm the roof was damaged and L.N.’s room was flooded with melting snow.
7th. We were shocked to hear that the Constituent Assembly has been dissolved, and Shingarev and Kokoshkin have been murdered by two sailors.* Some peasants came to visit, and Sergeenko and my daughter Tanya talked to them.
14th. I am handing over the management of Yasnaya Polyana to my daughter Tanya, and shall hire a steward. I miss my sons terribly, especially Lyova and Andryusha. Is Lyova still alive, I wonder?!
18th. I spoke on the telephone to the manager of a sugar factory, who is giving us ten pounds. Then I asked Volkov for some iron from the zemstvo to mend the roofs, and they agreed to give me seven sheets but refused any more.
21st. Vysokomirny came and introduced some discipline amongst the soldiers;* he is a most agreeable man, also a soldier at present.
23rd. Tanya went to Kolpna for a committee meeting. They are taking our forest from us.
26th. Alarming rumours of a pogrom by the young villagers. Distressing discussions with Tanya about Sergeenko, who has returned from Tula infected with delusions of power and keeps meddling with her instructions. Her unkind attitude to me almost made me weep.
15th February. News that the Germans have seized St Petersburg,* the situation in Russia is desperate. My daughters and I sorted through various manuscripts and documents concerning Lev Nik—ch.
17th. It’s a sad life. We are seeing Sasha off to Moscow again, it’s particularly hard to part with her this time. I found her a little food to take as she will be arriving at night.
8th March. They have refused me a pension, and have promised me 300 rubles instead of 800.*
21st. I went with Manya to three consumers’ co-operatives and two shops, where I found some bad brown macaroni, stale Greek nuts, matches and chicory coffee.
30th. An unexpected joy—my son Misha spoke to me on the telephone and promised to visit tomorrow. I worked hard on My Life.
31st. This morning I worked on my memoirs and read the papers. Misha arrived; he is much changed, but he’s a splendid fellow—energetic, intelligent and agreeable.
1st April. I spent the day with my beloved Misha, who has now left for Tula. He is cheerful and energetic. Lord help him!
7th. Two agronomists called Volkov and Bogoyavlensky arrived from Tula today to discuss Yasnaya Polyana. They want to repair the garden and set it to rights. The spring brings me little joy; I suffer too much from thoughts of those going hungry in Russia and in our house.
15th. Some of our young peasants came here this evening, saying they wanted to expropriate our land.*
24th. I copied Tanya’s letters. Then the whole village arrived and invited me to accompany them to Lev Nik.’s grave. Naturally I went—relations with them are good. Everyone knelt and sang ‘Eternal Memory’ three times.*
9th May. The religious holiday of Nicholas the Miracle-Worker, which the peasants celebrated in their usual coarse fashion. I had my photograph taken with several visitors—teachers from the railway.
13th. I had a visit from the Tula land committee, all from the common people but not disagreeable.
22nd July. Some commissars and various other gentlemen arrived from Tula—twenty in all—and looked at Lev Nik.’s rooms.
30th. I wandered around the estate all day, my heart heavy with the woes of Russia. An architect-academician came with plans for building a school.
9th August. My son Seryozha came—I was intensely glad to see him. “My dearest eldest children,” as Lev Nik. said to Seryozha and Tanya just before his death. This evening Seryozha played the piano and little Tanya beat the drum in time with him. My 55-year-old Seryozha has grown very thin, and this is sad for his mother.
28th. My son Misha arrived this morning, with Sergeenko. I am oppressed by the worry of finding food for everyone—there were twelve of us here for dinner today. Some of our peasants came and invited me to accompany them to the grave again, and we all went and sang ‘Eternal Memory’ three times.
3rd September. I wrote a new will to include Sasha: she had been cut out for her outrageous behaviour to me after her father’s death, but now I have forgiven her.*
13th. Some technicians arrived late this evening to draw up an estimate and a plan for a water pipe.
8th November. Everyone returned from Tula, where they had attended an evening commemorating Lev Nik.’s death. I did a lot of copying, and read a biography of N.A. Nekrasov. What a terrible childhood, and what a monster of a father! And his poor beloved mother!
3rd December. I am mourning the death of my brother Sasha. He had been in poor health for some time.
10th. Sergeenko came and brought an architect to design a model school for the peasants. Nothing will come of it; it’s an enormous enterprise.
11th. This evening Sergeenko read us some Ovid and Socrates from the Circle of Reading.
21st. My daughter Sasha arrived late this evening with Zosya Stakhovich and my grandson Ilyushok. They are all hungry, but Sasha laughs about everything.
31st. Tanya arranged a surprise New Year’s party at my grandson Ilyusha’s request. We were all delighted and went to her wing, where we happily saw in the New Year together.
1919
July–August—the Crimea falls to the Whites. September—the Ukraine evacuated as the Whites invade, then the Bolsheviks’ fortunes improve. October—Yudenich’s White Army beaten back from Petrograd. November—Denikin’s White Army in headlong retreat. December—Bolshevik government introduces “militarization of labour”.
March—at the request of Sofia Tolstoy and her daughter Tanya, the Yasnaya Polyana Society takes over their portion of the land and uses it as farm. July—Sofia writes a farewell note and distributes her valuables among her loved ones. September—Red Guards quartered in the village of Yasnaya Polyana. October—guards moved to a nearby village after protests from Yasnaya Polyana Society. 1st, 2nd, 3rd November—Sofia Tolstoy catches a chill. 4th November—she dies of pneumonia. Buried beside her daughter Masha in Kochaki cemetery. Shortly afterwards her son Misha emigrates to France.
2nd January. We read Dead Souls this evening. I dislike these false-comic characters and situations, but there are some lovely lyrical passages and descriptions of nature. I haven’t read it for a long time.
21st. Sergeenko sneaked in and choked me with talk for an hour and a half. What a tiresome man. He said some people have arrived from some sort of committee for the defence of the children of Krapivna, and want to evict everyone but me from the two houses, to build a home for twelve orphans, and I would be given two rooms to live in. I don’t believe a word of it, but one feels constantly alarmed.*
26th. I wrote letters, and made copies, to the sales department of Kushneryov and Co., asking them to give me back my book L.N. Tolstoy’s Letters to His Wife.*
9th February. My sister and I sat together at the large round table in the drawing room, and recalled all the people who had sat at that table in the past. We never thought then that most of them would leave, and it breaks my heart to think that those who are still alive are cold, hungry and at war.
18th. I signed a document handing over the Yasnaya Polyana estate to Kolya Obolensky, my late Masha’s husband.
24th. Kolya Obolensky and Sergeenko gave me to understand in a brief conversation that there were disagreements within the Tolstoy Society. As far as I can understand, they want to raise a large loan on the Yasnaya Polyana estate—but who will pay for it no one knows. There is no landlord, no bailiff and no workers.*
28th. My daughter Tanya has gone to Tula for a meetin
g of the Tolstoy Society this evening. Kolya Obolensky went too.
3rd March. Five Bolsheviks came here with the lawyer Goldenblatt, and for some reason they brought us some white flour, cheese, coffee and tea.
8th. I have recently had a sense of Lev Nik.’s presence, and that he was being quietly affectionate and tender to me. Where is he now? And where are all those I loved who have left? How much longer will I languish on this earth? It is all in God’s hands!
8th May. I was visited this evening by two engineers who are building a road to Yasnaya Polyana, and I chatted to one of them who had known Andryusha as a child. His name is Kalita.
25th. A vast number of people came to look round Lev Nik.’s rooms—children, high-school boys, young girls, members of some tribunal.
30th. A mass of visitors this morning. Some young girls sang in a choir and went for a walk, then ate their own lunch in the village—bread, eggs and milk. After we had our dinner they sang again and drank tea with us; then my sister Tanya sang beautifully—first with a small choir, with my little granddaughter Tanechka joining in, then on her own. Everyone was enchanted by her voice. There were more than 200 people here.
