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Chapter 26

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IN September Levin moved to Moscow for Kitty’s confinement. He had already been living there a whole month without occupation, when Sergius Ivanich Koznyshev, who had an estate in the Kashin Province and took a great interest in the forthcoming elections, prepared to attend them. He asked his brother, who had a vote for the Seleznev district, to accompany him. Levin had also some very important business to attend to in Kashin for his sister who lived abroad. It was in connection with a wardship and the receiving of money due to her for land transferred to the peasants.

 

Levin was still wavering, but Kitty, who had noticed that he was dull in Moscow and had advised him to go, without saying anything to him ordered for him the uniform necessary for the occasion, which cost eighty roubles. And it was these eighty roubles paid for the uniform which chiefly decided him. So he went to Kashin.

 

Levin had been five days in Kashin, going daily to meetings and taking a great deal of trouble over his sister’s business, which he was still unable to arrange. The Marshals of the Nobility were all busy with the elections, and he could not get even the simple matter in connection with the wardship settled. The other business, that of getting the money paid, also met with obstacles. After long efforts to get an injunction removed the money was all ready to be paid out; but the notary — a very obliging man — could not give the warrant because it needed the President’s signature, and the President was engaged at the Session and had not appointed a substitute. All those worries, the going from place to place, conversations with very kind good people who quite understood the unpleasantness of the petitioner’s position but were unable to help him, and all these efforts which yielded no results, produced in Levin a painful feeling akin to the vexatious helplessness one experiences when trying to employ physical force in a dream. He felt this frequently when talking to his very good-natured legal adviser. This legal adviser seemed to do all that was possible and to strain every nerve to get Levin out of his difficulties. ‘Look here!’ he would say, ‘just try this — go to so-and-so, and to so-and-so.’ And the adviser would make an elaborate plan to circumvent the fatal difficulty which was at the root of all this trouble. But he would immediately add: ‘All the same you will be put off; however, have a try!’ And Levin tried, and went again and again. Everybody was kind and amiable, but still it turned out that what he wanted to circumvent started up again in another place and impeded him once more. It was specially annoying to Levin to be quite unable to understand with whom he was contending, and whom the delay in his business could profit. No one, not even his lawyer, seemed to know this. If Levin could have understood it, as he understood the reason for having to stand in a queue at a booking-office, he would not have felt hurt or vexed; but no one could explain to him the reason for the obstacles he encountered in these business transactions.

 

However, Levin had changed considerably since his marriage; he had become patient, and if he did not understand why things were arranged thus, he told himself that, not knowing everything, he could not judge, and that probably things had to be so; and he tried not to be indignant.

 

And now, being present at the elections and taking part in them, he also tried not to condemn, not to dispute, but as far as possible to understand the matter — on which good and honest men, whom he respected, were engaged with so much seriousness and enthusiasm. Since his marriage so many new and serious aspects of life had been revealed to him, which owing to his superficial acquaintance with them had formerly seemed unimportant, that he anticipated and looked for a serious meaning in this election business also.

 

Koznyshev explained to him the meaning and importance of the changes anticipated as a result of the elections. The Marshal of the Nobility for the Province — in whose hands the law placed so much important public business: wardships (such as the one about which Levin was now in trouble), the care of enormous sums of money belonging to the nobility, public schools for boys and girls, military schools, elementary education according to the new Law, and finally the Zemstvo — the Marshal of the Province, Snetkov, was one of the old type of nobles. He had run through an enormous fortune, was a kind man, honest in his way but quite unable to understand present-day requirements. He always sided with the Nobility in everything, openly opposed the spread of popular education, and gave a class character to the Zemstvo, which should have such enormous importance. It was necessary to put in his place a fresh, up-to-date, practical, and quite new man, and to manage matters so as to extract from the rights granted to the Nobility (not as nobles, but as an element of the Zemstvo) all the advantages of self-government which could be obtained from them. In the wealthy Province of Kashin, always ahead of all others, such forces were now assembled that, if matters were here managed as they should be, it might serve as an example to other Provinces and to the whole of Russia. The affair was therefore of great importance. To replace Snetkov as Marshal, Sviyazhsky was proposed, or, better still, Nevedovsky, an ex-professor, a remarkably intelligent man, and a great friend of Koznyshev’s.

 

The Session was opened by the Governor of the Province, who in his speech to the nobles told them that in choosing occupants for posts they should show no partiality, but should choose according to merit and for the welfare of the country, and that he hoped the honourable Nobility of Kashin would strictly fulfil its duty as it had done in previous elections, and would justify their sovereign’s high confidence in them.

 

Having finished his speech the Governor left the hall, and the noblemen, noisily, vivaciously, some of them even rapturously, followed him out with enthusiasm, and stood around him as he was putting on his fur coat and talking in a friendly way with the Marshal of the Province. Levin, wishing to enter fully into everything and not to miss anything, stood there too in the crowd, and heard the Governor say: ‘Please tell Mary Ivanovna that my wife is very sorry she has to go to the Orphanage.’ Then the noblemen gaily scrambled for their overcoats and all drove to the cathedral.

 

In the cathedral Levin, with the others, raised his hand, repeating the words of the priest, and swore by the most awful oaths to fulfil all the things the Governor had hoped for. Church services always touched Levin, and when he was uttering the words, ‘I kiss the cross,’ and looked round at the crowd of men, young and old, who were repeating the same words, he felt moved.

 

On the second and third days matters were dealt with concerning the funds of the Nobility and the Girls’ High Schools, which, Koznyshev explained, were quite unimportant; so Levin, busy going from place to place on the business he had in hand, did not trouble about them. On the fourth day the audit of the Provincial Funds was undertaken, and now for the first time there was a conflict between the new and old parties. The Commission entrusted with the task of auditing reported to the Assembly that the sums were all correct. The Marshal of the Nobility rose and with tears in his eyes thanked the Nobility for their confidence. The nobles loudly applauded him and pressed his hand. But at that moment one of the nobles of Koznyshev’s party said he had heard that the Commission had not audited the Funds, considering that a verification would be an insult to the Marshal of the Province. A member of the Commission imprudently confirmed this. Then a small, very young-looking, but very venomous man began saying that probably the Marshal of the Province would be pleased to account for the Funds, and that the excessive politeness of the members of the Commission was depriving him of that moral satisfaction. Thereupon the members of the Commission withdrew their report and Koznyshev began very logically to prove that they must admit either that they had audited the accounts or that they had not done so, and to elaborate this dilemma. A speaker of the opposite party replied to Koznyshev. Then Sviyazhsky spoke, and then the venomous gentleman once more. The debate continued for a long time and did not come to any conclusion. Levin was surprised that they disputed about it so long, especially as, when he asked Koznyshev whether he thought that money had been misappropriated, he received the reply:

 

‘Oh no! He is an honest fellow, but this old-fashioned patriarchal and family management of the Nobility’s affairs must be put a stop to!’

 

On the fifth day the election of the District Marshals took place. For some of the districts the election was stormy enough; but for the Selezensk district Sviyazhsky was elected without opposition, and he gave a dinner-party at his house that evening.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 27

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ON the sixth day the Provincial elections were to be held. The large and small halls were full of noblemen in various uniforms. Many had come for that day only. Men who had long not met — some from the Crimea, some from Petersburg, and some from abroad — came together in those halls.

 

At the Marshal’s table, beneath the portrait of the Emperor, discussions were in full swing.

 

Both in the large and small halls the noblemen were grouped together in their parties, and from the hostility and suspicion of their glances, from the cessation of their conversations when a stranger approached, and from the fact that some of them even went whispering into the farther corridor, it was evident that each party had secrets it kept from the other. By their external appearance the nobles were sharply divided into two sorts: the old and the young. The old, for the most part, either wore old-fashioned buttoned-up uniforms of their class and carried swords and hats, or wore the naval, cavalry, or infantry uniforms to which each was individually entitled. The uniforms of the old noblemen were cut in the old-fashioned way, with puffs at the shoulders, and were clearly too small for them, being short-waisted and narrow as if their wearers had grown out of them. The young men wore long-waisted loose uniforms wide across the shoulders with white waistcoats, or else were in uniforms with black collars embroidered with laurel leaves — the emblem of the Ministry of Justice. To the young party also belonged the Court uniforms, which here and there ornamented the crowd.

 

But the division into young and old did not coincide with the separation into parties. Some of the young ones, as Levin observed, belonged to the old party, and on the other hand some very aged noblemen conversed in whispers with Sviyazhsky and evidently were warm partisans of the new party.

 

Levin stood with his own group in the Small Hall, which was used as a refreshment and smoking room, listening to what was being said and vainly straining his mental powers to understand it all. Koznyshev was the centre around whom the rest were grouped. He was now listening to Sviyazhsky and Hlyustov, the Marshal of another district, who also belonged to their party. Hlyustov was unwilling to go with the members for his district to invite Snetkov to stand again for election. Sviyazhsky was persuading him to do so and Koznyshev approved of this. Levin did not see why his party should ask the Marshal to stand, when they wished to defeat him.

 

Oblonsky, who had just had something to eat and drink, came toward them in his Chamberlain’s uniform, wiping his mouth with his scented and bordered lawn handkerchief.

 

‘We are holding the position, Sergius Ivanich!’ said he, smoothing back his whiskers. And after listening to the conversation he backed Sviyazhsky’s opinion.

 

‘One district is sufficient, and Sviyazhsky evidently belongs to the Opposition,’ he said, and every one but Levin understood him.

 

‘Well, Kostya! You too seem to have got a taste for it?’ he said, turning to Levin and taking him by the arm. Levin would have been glad to get a taste for it but could not understand what the point was, and, stepping aside from the group, he told Oblonsky of his perplexity as to why the Marshal of the Province should be asked to stand again.

 

‘O sancta simplicitas! [O holy simplicity!]’ said Oblonsky, and briefly and clearly explained the matter to Levin.

 

‘If, as in former elections, all the districts nominated the Provincial Marshal, he would be elected, receiving white balls from every one. This we do not want. Now eight districts are willing to invite him to stand again; if two districts refuse to do so, Snetkov may decline to stand and then the old party might choose another of their members, and then all calculations would be upset. But if only Sviyazhsky’s district does not invite him, Snetkov will stand. He will even get a good number of votes, so that the Opposition will be misled, and when a candidate of ours stands they will give him some votes.’ Levin understood, but not fully, and wished to put some further questions when suddenly every one began talking at once, and moving noisily toward the Large Hall.

 

‘What is it? What? Who? An authorization? To whom? What? Rejected! No authorization! Flerov is not admitted! What if he is being prosecuted? In that way they can exclude anybody! It’s mean! The law!’ Levin heard shouted from various sides, and he went toward the Large Hall with all the others, who were hastening on apparently afraid of missing something or other. Hemmed in by a crowd of noblemen, he approached the Provincial table, at which the Provincial Marshal, Sviyazhsky, and the other leaders were having a heated dispute.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 28

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LEVIN was standing some way off. He could not hear distinctly because of the stertorous and hoarse breathing of one nobleman near him and the creaking of the stout shoes of another. He could hear only the distant soft voice of the Marshal, then the shrill voice of the venomous nobleman, and then Sviyazhsky’s voice. They were disputing, as far as he could make out, about a paragraph of the law and the meaning of the words: ‘against whom legal proceedings were taken.’

 

The crowd separated to make way for Koznyshev to approach the table. He waited for the venomous nobleman to conclude, and then said he considered the proper course would be to consult the wording of the Act and requested the Secretary to look it up. The Act provided that in case of a difference of opinion the question should be balloted upon.

 

Koznyshev read the Act aloud, and began to explain its meaning, but a tall, thick-set, round-shouldered landowner with a dyed moustache, wearing a tight uniform the high collar of which squeezed up his neck at the back, interrupted him. Advancing to the table he struck his ring against it, shouting in a loud voice:

 

‘Vote! Put it to the ballot! Enough talking ! Vote!’

 

At this several voices were heard, and the tall landowner with the ring, growing more and more spiteful, shouted louder and louder: but it was impossible to make out what he was saying.

 

He was demanding the very thing Koznyshev was proposing; but he evidently hated Koznyshev and his party, and this hatred communicated itself to all those on his side, and in turn evoked a similar, though more decently expressed, feeling of conflicting anger from the opposing party. Shouts arose, and for a moment there was such confusion that the Marshal had to call for order.

 

‘Vote! Vote! Every one who is a nobleman will understand. . . . We shed our blood. . . . The Emperor’s confidence. . . . Don’t audit the Marshal; he’s not a shop assistant! . . . But that’s not the point! . . . Kindly ballot! . . . Abominable!’ was heard shouted by spiteful furious voices from every side. The looks and expressions on the faces were yet more spiteful and furious than the words. They expressed implacable hatred. Levin could not at all understand what was the matter, and was astounded at the ardour with which they discussed the question whether Flerov’s case should be put to the ballot or not. He forgot, as Koznyshev afterwards explained to him, the syllogism that for the common welfare it was necessary to displace the Marshal of the Province; but to defeat the Marshal it was necessary to have a majority of votes; to obtain that majority it was necessary to secure for Flerov the right to vote; and to secure Flerov’s eligibility it was necessary to explain the meaning of the law.

 

‘A single vote may decide the whole matter, and one must be serious and consistent if one wishes to be of public service,’ Koznyshev had said in conclusion. But Levin had forgotten that, and it pained him to see these good men, whom he respected, in such an unpleasant, malevolent state of excitement. To free himself from this feeling he went, without waiting to hear the end of the discussion, into the refreshment-room, where there was no one except the waiters at the buffet. When he saw the waiters busily wiping crockery and arranging plates and wine-glasses, and saw their calm yet animated faces, he experienced an unexpected feeling of relief, as if he had come out of a close room into fresh air. He began pacing up and down the room, watching the waiters with pleasure. He was particularly pleased by one old man with grey whiskers, who while evincing contempt for the young men who were making fun of him was teaching them how to fold napkins. Levin was just preparing to start a conversation with the old waiter when the Secretary of the Court of Nobility, an old man whose speciality it was to know all the nobles of the Province by name and patronymic, diverted his attention.

 

‘Please come, Constantine Dmitrich!’ said he. ‘Your brother is looking for you. The vote is being taken.’

 

Levin entered the Hall, was given a white ball, and, following his brother, Sergius Ivanich, approached the table at which Sviyazhsky stood with an ironical and impressive look on his face, gathering his beard into his fist and smelling at it. Koznyshev inserted his hand in the ballot-box and placed his ball somewhere, and making way for Levin paused beside him. Levin came up, but having entirely forgotten how the matter stood and being confused he turned to Koznyshev with the inquiry, ‘Where am I to put it?’ He spoke in a low voice at a time when people near by were talking, so he hoped his question would not be heard. But the talk stopped and his improper question was heard. Koznyshev frowned.

 

‘That depends on each man’s convictions,’ he said severely.

 

Several persons smiled. Levin blushed, hastily thrust his hand under the cloth that covered the box, and, as the ball was in his right hand, dropped it on the right side. When he had done so he recollected that he ought to have put in his left hand also, and thrust it in, but it was too late; and feeling still more confused he hurried away to the very back of the room.

 

‘One hund’ed and twenty-six fo’! Ninety-eight against!’ came the Secretary’s voice, dropping his r’s. Then followed a sound of laughter; a button and two nuts had been found in the ballot box. Flerov was qualified and the new party had scored. But the old party did not consider itself defeated. Levin heard Snetkov being asked to stand; and he saw that a crowd of nobles surrounded the Marshal, who was speaking. Levin drew near. Replying to the nobles, Snetkov spoke of the confidence and affection of the Nobility, of which he was not worthy, his merit consisting only in his loyalty to the Nobility, to whom he had devoted twenty years of service. Several times he repeated the words: ‘have served to the extent of my power — faithfully and truly — I appreciate and thank . . .’ Then, suddenly, choked by tears, he stopped, and left the room. Whether those tears resulted from a consciousness of injustice done him or from love for the Nobility, or from the strained situation in which he found himself, surrounded by enemies, at any rate his emotion communicated itself. The majority of the nobles were touched and Levin felt a tenderness for Snetkov.

 

In the doorway the Marshal came into collision with Levin.

 

‘Sorry! Please excuse me!’ he said, speaking as to a stranger; but recognizing Levin, he smiled timidly. It seemed to Levin that Snetkov wished to say something, but could not speak from agitation. The expression of his face and his whole figure, in uniform with crosses and white trousers trimmed with gold lace, as he went hurriedly along, reminded Levin of a hunted animal conscious that things are going badly with him. This expression on the Marshal’s face touched Levin, particularly because, just the day before, he had been to his house about the wardship and had there seen him in all the dignity of a kind-hearted family man. The large house with the old family furniture; the old footmen by no means smart, rather shabby, but respectful — evidently former serfs who had remained with their master; the stout, good-natured wife, in a lace cap and Turkish shawl, caressing her pretty granddaughter (a daughter’s daughter), the manly young son in the sixth form of the High School, who had just come home and who kissed his father’s large hand in greeting; the impressive kindly words and gestures of the host — all this had yesterday awakened Levin’s involuntary respect and sympathy. Now the old man seemed touching and pathetic to Levin and he wished to say something pleasant to him.

 

‘So you are to be our Marshal again,’ said he.

 

‘Hardly!’ replied the Marshal, looking round with a frightened expression. ‘I am tired and old. There are others worthier and younger than I, let them serve.’

 

And the Marshal disappeared through a side-door.