In a Russian Prison

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 128, 14 November 1885, Page 3

In a Russian Prison

1- Had I ever dreamed I hai courage Had '. ever flattered myself I had strength ? M^ failing limbs tottered as I obeyed the sum d mons to proceed to the cells My failing heart stood still as on my way there I heard u the distant but unmistakable clank of heavj chains. y As we proceeded through a corridor i n door opened, and in a large, light, fairlj r> clean hall I saw upward? of a hundrec . women, and nearly as many children, y Some were infants in arms, others were run [. niDg about merrily, unconscious of the fate that awaited them. c The greater number of these women were d prisoners, thieves, assassins, forgers, felon* of evBry description, about to be sent te s Siberia, there to work out their various a sentences, yet many amongst them were ! the wives and mothers of convicts, who [1 had elected to share the fate of their husbands and sons. i It was not difficult, even in so cursory a view, to perceive the difference between i- these poor creatures, Squalid, miserable, :, poverty-stricken, as they all seemed, though i often thinner, poorer, more miserable even i in appearance than the others, the voluntary x exiles had not that habitual look of vice i that the hardened criminal so soon acquires. t Poor unhappy wretches. More than a third of those I looked upon will probably perish ere the band arrives at its destinp ation— a journey so infinitely long that a b year is sometimes required to accomplish it. s Thousands of versts to be traversed on foot amidst all the rigours of an Arctic climate, a and during the almost equally torturing 0 heat of the short but burning northern t summer. s Insufficient clothing, insufficient tood, scanty shelter, the cruel diseases that in 1 variably attend poverty and dirt, and above ■f all the pestilential air of the loathesome dens into which the prisoners are thrust, , when from time to time it is necessary to b halt on the weary way, rapidly tbin the \ ranks ere many mGnths elapse, and very % few of these unhappy wretches ever return " to tell the tale of suffering and death that - belong to each gang of convicts. Every month does such a gang leave the t great Russian prisons, and though Russian t officials are far from harsh, being in general considerate and even kind, as far as their - painful duties will permit, and private a charity is always on the watch to alleviate „ suffering, yet woeful indeed is the spectacle s of such a mass of crime and misery. I had witnes39d many such departures, I knew all the horrors of such a fate, and yet with what joy would I have seen Verena y amongst these miserable groups, for, sad as , this scene was, I had before me one infinitely 3, more terrible. The descent of a steep staircase brought us to a set ot underground cells, in which are confined the prisoners condemned to r death. A key grated in the lock, a heavy door opened, and again that young girl and ) I were face to face. r My eyes, unaccustomed to the dim light, looked vaguely round the gloomy space. ( Low mutterings, or rather faint moans, from j one corner caught my ear, and then I -, noticed a dark bundle huddled up on a , sort of wretched bed. A female warder, [ who was also in the cell, touched my arm, and pointed silently to this bundle. "Verena! Merciful Heaven! was this , Verena !" My cry, barely audible, as it ■ was, had attracted the attention of the unhappy girl. With a start she sprang to her feet, and staggering towards me, flung her arms round my neck, and burst into a per- ; feet passion of tears. I pressed her to my heart. I rained kisses upon her cold, tear-strained face, upon the little head, now ruthlessly shorn of the bright golden hair that had once been its crowning glory. At length the agonising tears were partially checked. Broken sobs alone shook the frame of the poor creature. Exhausted and suffering, she lay in my arms like a little child. Was it possible that the life of such a child could be needed to ensure the safety of a great country ? Would not Heaven itself interpose to rescue one of its little ones ? And, oh, my God, how she must have suffered. Beneath the wretched garments that covered her emaciated form I could feel the sharp bones that projected through the bruised flesh that covered them. Even my loving touch peemed to give her pain. Gone was the lovely, youthful complexion, sunken and faded the tender blue eyes. From suffering or confinement, the very limbs appeared distorted or injured, and the terrified starts that so incessantly shook her frame showed how severe was the cruel tension of the nerves. What she had suffered I never asked, she never told, but of the once beautiful, brilliant girl nothing now remained but a quivering, ruined wreck. 11 Do not think, my Anna," at last murmured the poor creature, laying her head restingly on my heart, and gently kissing the hand that clasped her poor form, "do not think lam afraid to die. No, no ; I have long been prepared, but— — ,"and here she pressed closer to me, and a convulsive shudder passed through her frame, " that dreadful man. The rope round my neck. Ido not know how to bear that. My courage is going. I have prayed, but my prayers are not heard, and I do not know how to bear, no I cannot— cannot bear it."

er I She slipped from my embrace, and falliri it- on her knees before nid, cfaspedj my hand between her quivering and wasted fingers re and prayed Jike aJHtlef-little child, in I Powerless arid liedrt^triolieri/I'could onl; ly j weep and pray with her, then raising her ttj c- j clasp her again in my loving »nd pityinj arms. . ' • iVI \ ~/' Ti i f i ' \ ; ; ' ( a, - Then,' though with rihame in my heart, 3 it whispered a few broken words, that if sh< at would say something, give any information, id j howeverslight/herdearlifeniightbe spared; jr But ere I could well endi my gasping] 1- half articulate sentences,' a change came J over her. , . ), I She raised -herself, from my arms. She •f looked into ' my face with* eyes of griei J and pain. So t He, betrayed now more than s 1884 years ago, must have looked upon y Peter. , * ' i The child-like expression passed from her J face. The little tender child was merged i into the woman prepared to die in a righteous cause. ! b j "It is not my friend who now speaks," she said in that voice still so flute like and - J so sweet, but.that now had a ring of deteri I mination in its tone that showed a hero's , heart was enclosed in that trembling and emaciated form "It is not my friend, for j j it is one who loves this poor miserable body > I so much that she wishes to keep it yet on I earth ; but do you think," she continued, the fire of a martyr gathering in her sunken J eyes and sending the colour once again into those pallid cheeks, " that because my coward nature Shrinks, and I am frightened, yes, so frightened, that whatever I may suffer, or have to suffer, will make me betray those who have trusted me? No, nnt"o t " she continued, though a half sob broke her voice ; " suffering has never yet made me base. A little longed a very little longer still to bear, and then peace must come. A peace beyond all the joy this world can ever give. That peace which passes understanding." She clasped her poor,thin hands together, and raising them above her, gazed upwards in silent, rapt enthusiasm. Her lips moved, though no sound escaped them. She was no longer oi the earth. Her spirit had ascended to those realms of peace and joy that beatified the dark and loathsome prison. The glorious rays of Divine lovq and joy had brightened with their glowing effulgence the hideous valley of the shadow of death through which she even now was passing. At this moment the key grated in the lock, the heavy bolts were withdrawn, and my conductor beckoned me to withdraw. As the door opened the poor creature returned to earth. The Heaven-sent enthusiasm faded from her ashy face, her lips "quivered, and earthly tears fell from the sunken eyes. Once again she clasped me round the neck ; convulsive sobs shook her weakened frame " To-morrow, come to-morrow, she faltered, clinging to me, as I passionately kissed away the tears from her pallid cheeks. "Madame can come to-morrow," kindly said the officer, " but the interview for today has ended." Gently, but resolutely, he took me by the arm, while the woman in attendance grasped the slender form of the unhappy girl and dragged her from me. | Ere I could turn to look again the heavy door had closed, had been locked, and double locked, the huge bolts had been drawn, ah, me ! ah, me ! to keep from life and freedom a poor child, whose unhappy destiny had led her to share in faults and follies of which she was barely conscious, but for which her young life was to pay the price. Powerless,, nerveless, hopeless, I was taken home. I had no one to help, no one, indeed, to speak to. For hours I tortured my brain in the vain hope of averting the impending doom.— From " Beneath the Dark Shadow," in the " English Illustrated Magazine."