The Shadow of Great Britain

Capítulo 1526: Chapter 258: Acknowledgments from the Herzen Group

Herzen lifted the woolen curtain of the four-wheeled carriage, revealing faces of young men emaciated by the prolonged prison diet and harsh life, wrapped in the morning fog of the Russian winter.

Who would have thought that just days ago, the Third Bureau labeled these young men as “the poisonous mushrooms of liberalism,” yet today, these poisonous mushrooms are being driven from Moscow straight to the imperial capital, Petersburg.

The carriage rocked, and bottles clinked under the sable cloak.

“Gentlemen, remember to hide the vodka bottles snugly in the carriage blankets,” Herzen tapped the window with his frostbitten red fingers: “What we are delivering is prohibited alcohol from Vologda Monastery; we can’t let the constitutional soldiers confiscate it as tribute.”

Just as the carriage passed the Tver checkpoint, Herzen suddenly pulled open the window.

The cold wind blew in the scent of the vodka distillery, causing everyone to sneeze.

Herzen saw the Cavalry Lieutenant wielding a carbine step out from the post, and before the man could approach, he was already adeptly reaching into his pocket for some paper notes.

The Cavalry Lieutenant, cloaked in bear fur, kicked the carriage floor with his boot’s toe, his Adam’s apple slowly rolling between the fur collar: “I say…”

Before he could finish, Herzen preemptively handed over the pass, casually saying: “Lieutenant, you’ve dropped something.”

“I’ve dropped something?” The Cavalry Lieutenant looked down, only to find two ten-ruble paper notes lying conspicuously in the snow at his feet.

The Lieutenant, who was stern just moments ago, now wore a sincere smile: “How did I not notice? Truly an honest young man. Well, you all can go ahead, wishing you a smooth journey!”

The Lieutenant barely glanced at the documents before returning them to Herzen, then straightened to salute properly, beckoning forward the checkpoint ahead.

“And a smooth journey to you too,” Herzen smiled and waved goodbye. After two months in prison, he certainly didn’t leave empty-handed; apart from reciting the “Italian Grammar Dictionary” backward, what he learned most was how to navigate human relations.

Overall, Herzen’s imprisonment was relatively smooth.

Whether at the Moscow Police Headquarters or detained at Krutits Camp, he faced little unfair treatment; he even got along quite well with the constitutional soldiers guarding him.

Once familiarized with Herzen, the officers were willing to offer him small favors and conveniences within their abilities.

There was a time when he was poisoned by the gas from the room’s stove, resulting in him fainting, only to be properly treated thanks to an elderly constitutional soldier.

The so-called treatment was merely some common folk remedies; gas poisoning was not uncommon in Russia, and curing it was merely getting the patient to smell some ginger-mixed salt, then drinking a cup of hot kvass upon waking.

Though the principle of the remedy was unclear, fortunately, it worked well. The elderly constitutional soldier used traditional means to save Herzen’s life, rescuing him from a premature demise due to such a comical reason.

Even the two-month incarceration changed Herzen’s impression significantly of the entire constitutional guard. Although he never hid his disdain for this secret agency, he was surprised to find that most among them were genuinely kind — not spies but youths who had strayed into the constitutional guard.

Most of the constitutional soldiers guarding Herzen and other political prisoners were elderly, arranged by Colonel Semyonov of the City Defense Command as part of his care for his subordinates, usually assigning old soldiers to manage prisoners, doing less strenuous work to avoid marching. Additionally, an experienced soldier, a spy, and a swindler acted as their head.

Among them, the old constitutional soldier who helped Herzen recover from gas poisoning was particularly straightforward and sincere; old Filimonov was tearfully grateful for any kindness shown to him, indicative of a life full of hardship and misfortune.

He participated in the war against the Ottomans in 1805 and the Patriotic War against Napoleon in 1812.

His chest was adorned with medals, and logically, such a combat hero far exceeded the 25-year service term, and this elderly gentleman in his sixties should have long applied to return home.

Herzen once asked him why not return home, and old Filimonov merely blinked and replied: “I sent letters twice to my old home in Mogilev Province but never heard back; it seems there’s nobody left at home. Sometimes, returning home is daunting; I arrive, but find no home, and end up wandering aimlessly, so best to stay.”

If old Filimonov represented the ordinary soldiers of the constitutional guard, the lower and middle-ranking constitutional police officers Herzen met reflected another type of tragedy.

This group mostly consisted of uneducated or insufficiently educated noble children who had neither property nor means of livelihood, nor could they find other professions; thus, they enlisted as constitutional soldiers. They executed tasks according to military discipline, but their actions seemed far from voluntary.

Of course, this had to exclude the cold as ice constitutional adjutants, as they secured their ranks through malicious nature and cunning tactics.

A young officer with a good relation with Herzen had once secretly told Herzen that in 1831 he received a task to capture a Polish landlord lurking near his estate, accused of contacting envoys from the Polish rebel government.