Take pride, vain builders of cities, take pride, founders of states; dream on that the glory of your name will be eternal; pile up stone upon stone until you reach the very clouds; carve out depictions of your triumphs and inscriptions proclaiming your deeds. Lay firm foundations of government in immutable law. With its sharp row of teeth, Time laughs at your boasting. Where are the wise laws of Solon and Lycurgus that affirmed the liberty of Athens and of Sparta?—In books.—In the place where they dwelled slaves graze under the scepter of despotism.—Where is wealthy Troy, where Carthage?—Scarcely visible is the place where they proudly stood.—In the famed temples of Ancient Egypt, is there an imperishable sacrifice burning mysteriously to a unique being?—Their magnificent ruins serve as a haven for bleating cattle during the midday heat. They are not bedewed by joyous tears of gratitude to the Almighty Father, but rather by the stinking emissions of their animal bodies.—O pride! O human arrogance, look at this and know what a low-life you are!
These were my thoughts as I drove up to Novgorod, looking at the many monasteries situated around it.
They say that all these monasteries, even those located at a distance of fifteen versts* from the city, were enclosed within; that from its walls up to one hundred thousand troops could exit. It is known from the chronicles that Novgorod had a democratic government.44 Whilst they had princes, their power was scant. The power of administration was vested in the mayors and the military commanders.45 The people, assembled in the veche,46 was the true ruler. The province of Novgorod extended north even farther than the Volga. This free state was a member of the Hanseatic League. The old saying: “Who can stand up to God and Novgorod the Great?” serves as proof of its might. Trade was the cause of its rise. Internal disagreements and a rapacious neighbor sealed its fall.
On the bridge, I got out of my carriage in order to enjoy the spectacle of the flow of the Volkhov. There was no way the deed of Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich after the capture of Novgorod could not come to mind.47 Stung by the resistance of this republic, this proud, savage but intelligent ruler wished to raze it to its very foundations. He appears to me standing with his cudgel on the bridge subjecting to his fury, as some accounts narrate, the elders and superiors of Novgorod. But by what right did he rage against them? What right did he have to annex Novgorod? Was it because the first Grand Princes of Russia lived in this city? Or because he styled himself the Tsar of All Russia? Or because the Novgorodians were of the Slavic tribe? But when power acts what is the use of a right? Can a right exist when the blood of peoples seals an outcome? Can the law exist when the power to implement it is lacking? Much has been written about the law of nations. Reference is frequently made to it but law-givers have not considered whether there can be a judge between peoples. When enmities arise among them, when hatred or greed incite them against one another, the sword is their judge. Whoever falls dead or disarmed, he is guilty; he obediently capitulates to the outcome and there is no appeal.—This is why Novgorod belonged to Tsar Ivan Vasilyevich. And this is why he destroyed it and usurped its smoking ruins.—Necessity, a wish for security and preservation create kingdoms; discord, scheming, and power destroy them.—What then is the right of the people? Peoples, say the law experts, are positioned in relation to one another just like individuals in regard to one another in a state of nature.—Question: in the state of nature what rights does man have? The answer is: look at him. He is naked, hungry, thirsty. Everything he is able to grab to satisfy his needs he acquires. If anything should try to hinder him, he would remove the hindrance, destroy it, and would take what he wants. Question: if on the way to satisfying his needs, a person encounters his equal, if for example two men, feeling hunger, seek to assuage it with one morsel, which of the two has the greater claim? Answer: the one who will take the morsel. Question: and who will take the morsel? Answer: the one who is stronger.—Is this really natural law, is this really the basis of the right of the people?—Examples of all ages demonstrate that right without force was always thought at a practical level to be empty language.—Question: what is civil law? Answer: he who is journeying on postal horses does not busy himself with trivialities and thinks about how to get horses faster.
From The Novgorod Chronicle48
The Novgorodians fought a war with Grand Prince Yaroslav Yaroslavich and concluded a written peace accord.—
The Novgorodians drafted a charter to defend their freedoms and confirmed it with fifty-eight seals.—
The Novgorodians forbade the circulation in their state of coined money introduced into circulation by the Tatars.—
In 1420 Novgorod began to strike its own coinage.—
Novgorod was in the Hanseatic League.—
There was a bell in Novgorod to the sound of which the people gathered at the veche to consider public affairs.—
Tsar Ivan confiscated the charter and bell of the Novgorodians.—
Later in the year 1500—and in 1600—in 1700—in the year—in the year—Novgorod remained in its previous location.
But one should not always think about olden times, not always think about the day that comes tomorrow. If I constantly gaze at the sky without considering what is under foot then I shall soon stumble and fall into the mud …, thought I. No matter how much you grieve you will not repopulate Novgorod as it used to be. What will be in the future is God’s will.—It is now time to dine. I shall go to Karp Dementich.
“Hey hey hey! Welcome, whence has the Lord brought you?” said my friend Karp Dementich, previously a merchant of the third guild and now an eminent citizen.49 “As the saying goes, ‘a lucky one comes in time for lunch.’ We invite you graciously to take a seat.” “But why such a feast?” “Benefactor mine, yesterday I married off my lad.” Benefactor thine, thought I, he’s not puffing me up without a reason. Like others, I helped him join the ranks of eminent citizens. From 1737, it seems as though my grandfather had a debt by bill of exchange to someone—who I don’t know—for 1000 rubles. In 1780 Karp Dementich purchased the bill of exchange, somewhere, and initiated a complaint for forfeiture on an obligation. He and an experienced legal fixer came to me, and at that time they graciously got off me only the interest payments for 50 years, and made a gift of all the capital that had been borrowed.—Karp Dementich is a grateful fellow. “Daughter-in law, some vodka for our unexpected guest.” “I do not drink vodka.” “Well, at least have a sip.” “Health to the newlyweds …” and we sat down to eat.
On my one side sat the host’s son, and on the other Karp Dementich seated his young daughter-in-law…. Let us interrupt the account, reader. Give me a pencil and sheet of paper. I shall draw to your satisfaction the entire honorable company and that way I shall make you a participant in the wedding feast even if you happen to be on the Aleutian Islands catching beavers. Even if I do not copy out exact portraits I shall be contented with their silhouettes. Lavater teaches how to use them to recognize who is intelligent and who stupid.50
Karp Dementich has a grey beard of eight vershok* counting down from his lower lip. His nose is like a stubby stick, eyes grey, sunken, a pitch-black brow, he bows deeply from the waist, he smooths his beard, he greets all flatteringly as “my benefactor.”—His dear wife is Aksinya Parfentyevna. At sixty years of age, white as snow, and ruddy as a poppy flower, she always purses her lips in a circle, before supper drinks half a cup of Rhine wine in the presence of guests and also a glass of vodka in the pantry. Her husband’s domestic manager keeps track…. At the request of Aksinya Parfentyevna, the annual store of three poods† of ceruse from Rzhev and 30 pounds of myrtle for rouge is purchased. The husband’s domestic managers are Aksinya’s chamberlains.—Alexei Karpovich is my neighbor at the table. Not a whisker nor yet a beard but his nose is already crimson, his brows twitch, his hair is cropped round, he bows like a goose, shaking his head and primping his hair. In Petersburg he was a shopkeeper’s boy. He deducts a vershok* from every arshin† of fabric he sells. For that reason, his father loves him like himself. When he was fourteen going on fifteen, he gave his mother a slap.—Paraskovya Denisovna, his newlywedded wife, is white and rosy. Teeth like coal.51 Eyebrows are thread-thin, blacker than soot. In company, she keeps her eyes lowered, but entire days she spends at the window and stares at every man. In the evening she stands by the gate.—She has one black eye. The gift of her darling little husband on their first day—your guess as good as mine for what.
But dear reader, you yawn already. Enough of my taking silhouettes, clearly. You are right: there will be nothing more than noses and lips, lips and noses. And for that matter I have no idea how you distinguish ceruse and rouge on a silhouette.
“Karp Dementich, what are you trading in nowadays? You don’t travel to Petersburg, do not transport flax, and you are buying neither sugar nor coffee nor pigments. It seems to me that your business was not unprofitable.” “I almost went bust from it. God saved us by a narrow squeak. In the one year in which I received adequate revenue I built this very house for my wife. The next year there was no harvest in flax and I was unable to deliver what my contract required. That’s why I ceased to trade.” “I recall, Karp Dementich, that in return for the thirty thousand rubles collected in advance you sent your creditors a thousand poods* of flax to be distributed among them.” “By God, more was impossible, trust my conscience.” “Of course, in the very same year the failed crop affected the trade in imported goods. You collected about twenty thousand worth of … Yes, I recall: that was some headache.” “Truly, my benefactor, my head ached so I thought it would burst. Yet what complaints could creditors have against me? I gave them my entire estate.” “At about three kopecks on the ruble.” “No way, not at all, it was about fifteen.” “And your wife’s house?” “How could I touch it? It’s not mine.” “Tell me then, what business are you doing?” “Nothing, swear to God, nothing. Since I entered a state of bankruptcy my boy has been doing the business. This summer, thank God, he delivered flax to the value of about twenty thousand.” “In future, of course, he will sign contracts for fifty thousand, will take half the money up front and will build his young wife a house….” Alexei Karpovich just smiles. “You are an old joker, my benefactor. Enough shooting the breeze: let’s get down to business.” “I don’t drink, you know.” “Well, just have a sip.”
Have a sip, have a sip—I sensed that my cheeks had begun to redden and that toward the end of the feast I would, like the others, be completely sozzled. But fortunately, one cannot sit at the table forever just as it’s impossible to be clever all the time. And for the very same reason I sometimes play the fool and rave I was sober at a wedding feast.
After leaving my acquaintance Karp Dementich, I fell to thinking. I had reckoned until then that the law of the promissory note introduced everywhere, that is the rigorous and expedient indemnification of commercial obligations, was a protection guaranteeing trust; I considered it a fortunate invention of modern times that had not occurred to the minds of ancient peoples for the enhancement of rapid turnover in commerce. But if the one who issues the credit note is less than honest, why is this little scrap of paper worthless? If the rigorous settlement of debt did not exist would trade vanish? Is it not for the creditor to know whom to trust? Whom should legislation be obligated to protect more, the creditor or the debtor? Who in the eyes of humanity deserves more respect, the creditor who forfeits his capital because he did not know the person to whom he entrusted it; or the debtor who is in chains and in prison? On the one hand, gullibility, on the other, practically thievery. The former gave his trust because he was relying on the law to be strict, but the latter…. But if the settlement of debentures was not so strict? There would be no place for ready credulity, perhaps there would be no chicanery in matters of credit…. I began to think again, the previous system had gone to the devil, and I went to bed with an empty head.