Tolstoy and Tolstaya: A Portrait of a Life in Letters

The correspondence between Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy and his wife over the last two decades of their married years certainly reflected the drama of their life itself. Tolstoy’s return to fiction writing had been accomplished with such masterpieces as The Death of Ivan Ilyich [Smert’ Ivana Il’icha] (1886) and The Kreutzer Sonata [Krejtserova sonata] (1889). He would be active on the belletristic scene well into his advanced years: his novel Hadji Murat [Khadzhi Murat] was finished in 1904, although published only posthumously, together with some of his other later works. In time, however, this artistic endeavour became a source of deepening family discord with Tolstoy’s public renunciation in 1891 of copyright on all his works published after 1881.

In the meantime, Tolstaya continued producing one edition after another of her husband’s ever-popular Complete Collected Works [PSS]. However, she kept encountering more and more difficulties with censorship in respect to his later offerings, which were often controversial thanks to their deliberate — and even emphatic — conflict with official political and religious values of the time. Initially this involved The Kreutzer Sonata, but later included some of his theatrical plays such as The power of darkness [Vlast’ t’my]. In 1891, Sofia Andreevna obtained a personal audience with Emperor Alexander III and a compromise was achieved.

In the following years, Lev Nikolaevich became a kind of cult figure in both his home country and the world at large. While he remained, of course, a great artist, it was his philosophical and religious works (often crossing into the realm of burning social issues) that gained him many new followers. He was being seen more and more not so much as a famous writer but as a kind of guru with a devoted following of ‘Tolstoyans’. His vocal opposition to what he viewed as hypocrisy and intolerance in the official Russian Orthodox Church eventually led to his formal ex-communication in 1901. Sofia Andreevna, by contrast, remained a devoted adherent of the church and its traditional practices, even while considering her husband’s ex-communication as an unwarranted punitive measure.

All this signalled a deepening rift between husband and wife. Certain events brought them brief periods of reconciliation, such as their joint efforts in famine relief (1891–93) and (to a lesser extent) in the relocation of the Doukhobors to Canada (1898–99). Another unifying emotional experience was the birth — and (only seven years later) death — of their last child Ivan (Vanechka) (1888–1895). As a family they did manage to come to an amicable agreement (1891) concerning the division of the inheritance among the surviving children. But these occasional moments of respite could not compensate indefinitely for the widening gulf between them in their philosophical and moral worldviews. Tolstoy rejected the idea of personal property and gave his wife full power-of-attorney over his financial affairs, but not without expressing continual disapproval of the very fact that she (and the rest of the family) dealt with ‘earthly’ issues, while he was devoting his whole attention to ‘spiritual’ seekings.

The rift was exacerbated even further by Sofia Andreevna’s striking up a second platonic friendship in the mid-1890s (the first had been with philosopher Leonid Urusov at the end of the 1870s), this time with composer and concert pianist Sergej Taneev. This relationship grew out of her passionate love for Taneev’s musical talent, which proved a great comfort to her following her beloved Vanechka’s death (1895). But the attachment sparked repeated fits of jealousy on the part of her husband, even to the threat on several occasions of leaving the marriage.

During this whole period Tolstaya was adding to the store of her own artistic talents — including painting, photography and writing. She began publishing her own stories, such as The rescued dachshund (which she said was “dictated” by Vanechka) in 1895, and culminating in a whole book collection (1910), under the title The skeleton-dolls and other stories. She also began penning two autobiographies, the more extensive of which, entitled My Life, was not published (in either its original Russian or an English translation) until the early twenty-first century.¹

In the meantime, the arts in Russia as a whole were continuing to flourish. On the music scene, the decades around the turn of the century brought to prominence not only Taneev, but composers such as Sergei Rakhmaninoff, Alexander Scriabin and Igor Stravinsky; moreover, the revolutionary modernism of the latter two paved the way for such twentieth-century notables as Sergei Prokofiev and Dmitri Shostakovich. Russian theatre was celebrating the likes of director Konstantin Stanislavsky, producer Vladimir Nemirovich-Danchenko and actor Leopold Sullerzhitsky (‘Suller’ was instrumental in escorting two parties of Doukhobors to Canada at LNT’s request). Russian literature, in turn, featured the rise of novelist Maxim Gorky and playwright/storyteller Anton Chekhov, both of whom visited the Tolstoys at Yasnaya Polyana and were photographed in Lev Nikolaevich’s company by Sofia Andreevna. At the same time, Russian poetry was entering upon its so-called Silver Age, which came to include the works of Anna Akhmatova, Osip Mandelstam, Boris Pasternak and Marina Tsvetaeva, all well known both within Russia’s borders and far beyond.

1 University of Ottawa Press, 2010

Nº 144 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/408]
24 March 1889. Spasskoe.

I’m having an excellent stay here to date.¹ Yesterday I took a long walk through the surrounding villages, but didn’t write anything. I read and chatted with Urusov and Posha.² Posha left last night. Urusov is very precious, at home with his old, God-fearing and equally upper-class Gerasim and his sister.³ He gets up at 4 o’clock and drinks tea and writes some kind of mathematical essay which I can’t understand. They were making tea for me when I rose at 9, but later I declined [this courtesy]. He takes dinner at 12 with tea, which coincides with my breakfast, and has supper with tea at 6.

He eats Lenten fare with fish and with oil and is very concerned about healthy food for me — they bake apples for me every day. Today is Friday — tomorrow they’ll send [my] letter but I am writing you today. I kept myself busy this morning;⁴ then I listened to Urusov [reading] his essay.⁵ Just as in all his writings, there are some new thoughts, but [his essay] is strange and unproven. Though he is touching. He lives with no conflict with anyone around him, helps others and prays to God. For example, before dinner he will walk up and down the path in front of the house. I did approach him, but I saw I was bothering him, and he admitted to me that while walking he reads the ‘“Hours”⁶ and the Psalms. — In my view he’s aged quite a bit.

Like everywhere else in Russia, the country life around here is deplorable. The priest runs what passes for a school and has four boys, but in the neighbouring villages, half a verst distant, there are more than thirty boys who are [altogether] illiterate. And they don’t go [to school], since the priest does not teach them, but makes them work [instead].

Some muzhiks are coming — eleven of them — from somewhere. “From where?” [I ask them.] [It turns out] they were being sent to the village Elder over their quit-rent, sent to the Police Superintendent. I struck up a conversation with one elderly peasant woman: she told me that all the girls, including from her own house, were [working] at a [fabric] factory 8 versts away — [a scene of] total debauchery, as Urusov puts it. At the church is a guard without a nose. [But] there’s a pub and tavern — a splendid building with a fat muzhik [who owns it]. It’s the same sadness everywhere: people are abandoned to their own devices, without the slightest help from the strong, the rich or the educated. On the contrary, a kind of hopelessness. As though it is assumed that everything is set up perfectly and cannot and should not be messed with; [as though] it were offensive to some, a Don Quixote [attitude]. [As though] everything were [already] set up [perfectly] — church, school, state administration, industry, entertainment — and we, the upper classes, needed to care only about ourselves. But if we take a closer look at ourselves, our classes are in an even more deplorable situation: we’re stagnating.

I wanted to give Prince [Urusov] On life [O zhizni]. If you have a copy, send me the Russian version, if not, the French.⁷

Hugs and kisses to you and all the children.

Send me the letters.

L. T.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane, Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 145 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 205]
[26 March 1889. Moscow]

Even though my hands are aching from writing to you, I cannot live apart from you and not have any communication at all — that would be too miserable. Along with that, why and what should I write? Now [I’ve heard] the violin and piano played by the Mamonovs,⁸ the Gerasimovs,⁹ Lenochka,¹⁰ and Golokhvastova¹¹ was here, too, — you have no sympathy for any of that. The children have tried cabinet-making, they visited the D’jakovs¹² and the Severtsevs,¹³ — you don’t care; — they did cabinet-making for exercise, not for their daily bread. I was dealing with proofreaders and printers, and sewing clothes for my children — and you have no sympathy even for this — the former will bring in money, the latter you consider simply superfluous.

My breast is giving me frightful pain, worse than it was at the start; yesterday Vanechka was sucking, and blood from my breast was streaming across his lips. The hurt I feel from those tiny wounds pierced by twelve sharp little teeth — you simply can’t imagine. — Perhaps if, beyond those principles, you have even a little of your former heart, you would have at least a wee bit of sympathy for this.

I would really love to know how your stay went with the prince¹⁴ — Are you healthy? Are you able to work? Do you walk a lot? What physical work have you thought up for yourself? — on the whole I do care about everything that concerns you, and the only thing that always worries me is what might bring you evident harm — either physically or morally. Such elements, unfortunately, have multiplied [of late].

Write me a good letter so that I can get a feel for you. I shan’t write you in kind: apart from intolerable physical pain, these days I have to cope with disturbing letters — accusatory reports regarding [our] foremen from Samara and Yasnaya about drunkenness, dishonesty, disorders and other vexing situations. This is something I have absolutely no feeling for, yet these appeals to me make me look as though I’m responsible [for doing something about it].

Lëva is very frail and despondent. He’s trying to wind himself up — doing a lot of walking and drinking milk, but none of this has been of much help. As always, a lot of hope [rests] on the summer [ahead].

Farewell, dear Lëvochka, it’s already after 1 a.m., time to go to bed. Hugs and kisses to you and regards to the prince and Pavel Ivanovich [Birjukov], if he hasn’t left already.

S. T.

Sunday evening.

Nº 146 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/412]
1 April 1889. Spasskoe.¹⁵

Since my last writing, I have received your letter¹⁶ plus a lot of letters through the post and brought by Americans.¹⁷ As before, I’m doing quite well indeed. Today I had a bit of a stomach ache. I attribute this to the fact that I ate sturgeon yesterday, and possibly to the fact, too, that I overexerted myself yesterday, chopping and sawing and hauling timber. It’s melting here, too, and becoming more like spring. Yesterday I corrected the proofs [of my article] On art [Ob iskusstve]¹⁸ and there were a lot of changes to be made (Urusov found a deacon’s son who is now transcribing), and did some chopping and sawing in the woods with the muzhiks who were working there. It was a very pleasant [task] to fell large firs and saw fragrant, resinous lumber. And I came across a very nice father with his son. (Not all gloomy scenes.) All the previous days I was wanting to finish the comedy¹⁹ and today I finished the 4th and final act, but it’s so bad up to this point that I feel ashamed even giving it to you to transcribe. At least now it’s out of my hands. And if I feel like going back to it at another time, I shall work on correcting it [then].

Tomorrow I’m heading off to the Troitse;²⁰ [hopefully] there will be some news from all of you. Depending on [your] letter I shall decide when to get ready to return home. I do want to see you, but I’m not doing too badly here, either. —

I would be most interested to know what you thought of my last letter.²¹ I didn’t read it over again, but I know that I wrote not only what I thought then or still think sometimes, but what I always feel. And it’s strange — your last letter — even though it expresses some kind of strange and illicit aversion to just about anything Russian (as you put it) — your last letter²² I found especially delightful, as it was, in a way, an answer to my letter, which you hadn’t [yet] received. I wish I knew what tomorrow has in store for us; the main thing is that you are not tortured by physical pain. — Yesterday I wanted to cross over to the Troitse, but I couldn’t because of the stream overflowing [its banks] and [so] I went into the woods. — The prince [Urusov] is very nice. He gets up at 3 or 4 [in the morning] and puts on the samovar; he takes some tea, smokes and does his calculations. After dinner and all day long it’s the same, except for naps, [games of] patience and walks. I’m afraid that all these computations are unnecessary. He has this cloudiness of thought, [a habit of] self-deception, whereby it seems to him that he has found a solution to the problem he was wanting to solve. I’m afraid [his mind] is further clouded by papirosas,²³ an occasional vodka, in small portions, and tea. But his simplicity and aspirations to virtue are genuine, and therefore I get along well with him. His roses are in bloom — a lot of them, and he suggested I enclosed some leaves in my letter. Well, farewell for now, hugs and kisses to you and Tanja and Lëva (how is he getting along with his studies at the gymnasium?). And to Andrjusha (is his throat not [any better]?), and to Masha and Sasha and Vanechka. My respects to [governess] Kate and [tutor] Lambert.

L. T.

On the envelope: Moscow. Dolgokhamovniki Lane, Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 147 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 213]
[25 October 1889. Moscow]

So I have spent my first busy day in Moscow. How did all of you spend it at Yasnaya — I hope [you are] well and healthy. The train trip was so unbearably hot that sleep was impossible; I was constantly jumping out of bed and heading out to the open platform. I arrived in the morning and found Lëva still in bed. He has a head cold, but generally, he still has his same cheerful [disposition], though he’s worried about his exams, which are still in the distant future.

At 10 o’clock we drove out on business, as well as to Sof’ja Alekseevna Filosofova.²⁴ She’s coughing terribly and gasping for air; today Nikolaj Alekseevich²⁵ went to see Zakhar’in²⁶ and, if it turns out to be necessary, she will go abroad [for treatment]. The poor thing — she can’t speak or breathe at all, a truly wretched [case].

Then I saw Storozhenko,²⁷ did a bit of shopping, and went with Lëva for dinner at the D’jakovs’²⁸ with Liza, Varja and Masha,²⁹ and had a good time. I left The Kreutzer Sonata³⁰ for them, and right away went to see the Shidlovskijs³¹ nearby. There I saw Masha Sverbeeva³² with Katja, Verochka, Ol’ga³³ and Uncle Kostja; there was food and vint. I stayed there a bit, [then] went back to fetch the manuscript from D’jakov, finished reading the ending [aloud], and now Lëva and I are home, and he’s already gone to bed, while I am writing to you. I was sorry to leave home³⁴ yesterday, and what a wonderful ride we had to Kozlovka! I wonder who picked up the letter for me today, which I am expecting tomorrow evening. I didn’t get much done today — just couldn’t, for lack of sleep. My head aches, partly because of the thawing [going on here] and the bad odour in the Moscow [air].

How are all my little ones doing? [How are] the older children’s lessons, Vanechka’s walks and Sasha’s taking care of him?

The Kreutzer Sonata made a big impression on everyone. Varja and her husband³⁵ praised it. Masha Kolokol’tsova³⁶ was unhappy about something, D’jakov was puffing and panting; all he said was: “[Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy] suffered through it all, as we all did…” Lisa had nothing special to say. On Saturday we are sending it to Petersburg.³⁷

Farewell, my dears, stay healthy all of you, cheerful and prosperous. I am refraining from worrying about you all. My regards to everyone; hugs and kisses to you, Lëvochka, the girls and the children.

S. T.

25th [October]. Night.

Nº 148 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 215]
[29 March 1891. Moscow]

Dear friends, I arrived safely, though I am tormented by nightmares in sleep and Vanechka’s illness when awake. I joined Lëva over tea and talked with him about the property division.³⁸ He, too, was concerned about it and has already written something to Il’ja. Lëva, too, is strongly in favour of the division, to make a reliable transition to a more modest life, and know what each one has.

I visited the State Bank as well as the Merchant Bank, and got everything done on time. Now it’s two hours until the train [leaves]; Lëva and I are chatting and I am writing letters.

The telegram hasn’t come yet.³⁹ I am awaiting it impatiently. Be sure to wire Petersburg tomorrow. God grant you are all still healthy! I wish the girls cheerfulness and prosperity.

In Moscow all the talk is about Grand Prince Mikhail Mikhajlovich, who was discharged from his regiment and stripped of all his rights — poor thing, all over his marriage to Mlle Dubbel’t,⁴⁰ a mere mortal with no royal blood.

Farewell. I’m off to Petersburg with no energy and with none of the ardour needed for the cause, and oh, how I’d like to return home! But, apparently, this is my destiny — la fatalité, as they put it better in French, and possibly all jumbled up in my head.

Regards to everyone at home. Hugs and kisses to Papà and the children.

S. T.

Around 1 p.m., 29 March.

Nº 149 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/437]
1 April 1891. Yasnaya Polyana.

Everything would be fine with us if it weren’t for Vanechka’s chicken pox. Andrjusha was right when he wrote you (from my words) that no new marks have formed, and the former ones are drying up. There is one on his forehead that is larger than the others: [dimensions given] and the rest this size: [dimensions given] or less. He sustains himself largely on milk, which is very good; he does most of his sleeping in people’s arms; the nanny doesn’t sleep at night, but she is very cheerful and tender with him. At his request, we sometimes carry him around in a blanket, but [otherwise] he spends all his time in bed. It’s now ten o’clock, and he’s already in bed and asleep. —

Serëzha will take this letter. I’ll be quite insistent that he doesn’t forget. He is very kind-hearted. From Sergievskoe I received a reply today about a sick muzhik; they’re accepting him conditionally [as a patient], provided he is not chronic, and that is why I’ve decided to take him to Tula. Rudnev⁴¹ promised to take him and give him his attention. The boys are very precious, especially Andrjusha. — We’ve been reading in the evenings A family chronicle [Semej-naja khronika].⁴² There have been no especially interesting letters of late. My work is turning out more successfully, which I’m very happy about. I’m entirely, quite healthy. I am not writing about the girls, to spare their modesty, since they will be reading this letter. Stakhovich ⁴³ has not managed to receive the letter yet. [My] letter is about Losinskij,⁴⁴ who submitted a petition to the Tsar about adoption, so that [we] need to ask someone to set this matter in motion. Use Petersburg as best you can so that those who are with you will feel as pleased as possible. The business isn’t that important. Give a kiss from me to dear Aleksandra Andreevna⁴⁵ if you see her again, and, of course, [your sister] Tanja and the Kuzminskijs. Sasha⁴⁶ had some stomach trouble, but she’s better now. She’s healthy and precious. Hugs and kisses.

L. T.

On the envelope: Petersburg. 77, Nevskij Prospekt. S. A. Tolstaya c/o Tat’jana Andreevna Kuzminskaja.

Nº 150 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/440]
4 April 1891. Yasnaya Polyana.

I was going to write to you and, in searching for an envelope, I found this one — with this paper enclosed, probably prepared by Lidia⁴⁷ along with Vanechka and Sasha. — Today only Sof’ja Dmitrievna Sverbeeva⁴⁸ came with her little Ljuba and, she, it seems, received as good an impression from us as we did from her. Everybody, including Vanechka, is completely healthy. Yesterday we received Strakhov’s article.⁴⁹ I agree with you that it exaggerates my importance to the point of immodesty, but it seems that, regardless of how it flatters me, I am not mistaken when I say it is a remarkably good article — not only well written and intelligent, but sincere and heartfelt. To understand the essence of Christianity is something only a true Christian, or rather, a disciple of Christ, can do. Tell that to Nikolaj Nikolaevich. I shall be writing him.⁵⁰ Your news I do not find pleasant. You didn’t need to write to the Tsar⁵¹ and you didn’t have to request anything of him. That can only cause harm to everyone and provide an additional excuse for irritation. — We were very happy to see Lëva. He keeps complaining about his health, but he looks well. Hugs and kisses.

L. T.

On the envelope: Petersburg. 77, Nevskij [Prospekt]. S. A. Tolstaya c/o Tat’jana Andreevna Kuzminskaja.

Nº 151 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 218]
[9 September 1891. Moscow]

Today, dear friends, I am especially sad all alone here without you, and I’m yearning to go home [to Yasnaya Polyana]. I can picture you all so vividly — all of you together and each one in particular. But I still don’t know when I shall come — I’m not completely well, yet — and it’s hard for me to leave the [younger] children. Yesterday Andrjusha pleaded so plaintively with me not to go just yet. But last night Lëva arrived and today was already participating in all the children’s lessons and activities; it seems he really wants to be helpful. Lëva told me some things about the house [at Yasnaya Polyana], and one thing worries me a little — that it is only 12 degrees in the salon and that there’s absolutely no heat in the house; dampness will set in and everybody will start to feel ill. See that they heat the house from time to time, even just a little. Here we’re heating every day, and it’s still cold at that. — The children are healthy and have been improving, though Andrjusha is not a good pupil. Yesterday he went with Monsieur⁵² and Mitrokha⁵³ to the Zoological Gardens; I didn’t let them go to the exhibit — too cold. I shut up the house and sat all by myself, reading and making corrections on Volume XIII for the new edition.⁵⁴ Then I set the table, brought a pail of water from the well, and the children came to dinner. After dinner three of us went to see Grot.⁵⁵ His mother⁵⁶ and sister⁵⁷ were there. The children at once set about playing, and a little girl⁵⁸ climbed into his lap. From there we went to the D’jakovs’. I took my work with me and chatted with Dmitrij Alekseevich, while the children played as a foursome, took tea and talked about the gymnasium. We returned home shortly after 9 and found out about Lëva’s arrival. When he didn’t find us at home, he headed off to the Raevskijs’;⁵⁹ by the time he came back, the children were already asleep. Starting this morning, again, a lot of fuss: the winter window-frames were being installed; they were washing the doors and windows; a carpenter was making minor repairs, and Sasha’s room was being wallpapered. The dirt and the chaos are frightful.

I bought Tanja everything she needed, and got back by 4 o’clock. I found all three children⁶⁰ had come home from the gymnasium and Vera⁶¹ was there with the three younger ones.⁶² In the evening I made some notes, spent some time again reading from Volume XIII; the children kept busy, and towards 8 o’clock Natasha Filosofova⁶³ and [Aleksandr Nikiforovich] Dunaev arrived. We took tea, Lëva told us about the Caucasus and Masha’s wedding.⁶⁴ Dunaev and Natasha talked about the famine victims⁶⁵ and again my heart gave a leap, and I wanted to forget and close my eyes to this, but it was not possible; there’s no way to help — too much is required. And how invisible it all is here in Moscow! Everything’s still the same, the same luxuries, the same horses trotting by, the same stores, and everybody buying and neatly and tastelessly arranging (just like me) their own corners, from where we shall look off into the distance to people dying of starvation. If it weren’t for the children, I myself would go this year to help with the famine [relief], and feed as many people as I could with what I could obtain by any means; anything’s better than looking and torturing one’s self and not being able to do anything.

I still have about three days’ work left to do here. Lëva says that things are so much the better at home without me, and I believe that; but I need to come back at some point; and this miserable [question of property] division has to be resolved. Nothing will go forward without me. — Tanja, buy some grapes and watermelons in Tula and give them to the little ones; they’re better than pastries. Everything here is terribly cheap. And fruit is healthy. And if it’s cold, stoke the stoves and put [storm] windows in where needed. How are Auntie Tanja, Vera and their and our little ones doing? Hugs and kisses to all.

S. T.

Nº 152 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/459]
27 September 1891. Yasnaya Polyana.

Upon her return, Vera⁶⁶ told us how disturbed and disappointed you were as regards our plan⁶⁷ and this greatly upset us — not because our wishes will not be carried out, but because all of this upsets you. I repeat what I wrote you about the deposition: the main thing for me is not to violate [our] love and harmony. Let’s go for a time, set things up and come back, and let us do everything to make sure your peace and happiness are taken into account. Everyone’s healthy and cheerful here, especially me. Yesterday, as you were leaving,⁶⁸ I felt lethargic, but today, quite the contrary, I had a marvellous sleep, did a lot of writing and a lot of walking and I rode to Yasenki and back. I began writing an article about the famine,⁶⁹ but didn’t finish it and I’m afraid of spoiling it. — Sof’ja Alekseevna⁷⁰ is passing through tonight, and all three girls decided to ride over to Kozlovka, from which they’ll take the mail train to Yasenki, and from Yasenki back at 1:30 p.m. to Kozlovka. Sof’ja Alekseevna and Sasha⁷¹ will probably get this letter to you.

I hesitated [at first], but then I let the girls go. Vanechka is especially dear and unfailingly cheerful. — What have you all decided? Hugs and kisses to you and the children.

L. T.

I received Grot’s letter ⁷² at Yasenki.

[Also] Feoktistov’s letter⁷³ to you saying that The Kreutzer Sonata is allowed only in my Complete Collected Works and so, if by my order it is printed separately, they won’t let it pass. And since that would be a waste, wouldn’t I state that I am allowing everything to be printed except The Kreutzer Sonata? —

I am ready to state that I am informed that The Kreutzer Sonata will not be passed by the censorship board; but in this form my declaration will not pass; but I cannot write that I will not allow it to be printed, since that is not the truth. I think it is better simply not to reply.

Nº 153 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 220]
[25 October 1891. Moscow]

Lëva’s leaving,⁷⁴ too; the snowstorm today and the fearful cold and all these departures and our life apart, of course, are worst of all for miserable me, sitting as though chained to my drawing rooms and without any other purpose than worrying about everybody. The famine victims are undergoing physical torture, but for us sinners there is a worse torture — a moral one. Somehow, I guess, we’ll get through this difficult time for all, but it won’t pass without victims.

I am sending my fur coat to [our daughter] Masha, and I bought one for you, Lëvochka, a cheap one. You won’t last 30 versts [in the sleigh] without two fur coats. I am sending you 500 roubles, along with the previous 600; Lëva is taking 200, Serëzha 100 for the famine victims; that’s a total of 900 roubles. Then I’ll see what more can be done. — I haven’t yet managed to read your article [on the famine], Lëvochka; Grot brought it round today, but didn’t find me in, and so I have not seen him up ’til now. Yesterday Sonja Mamonova and Alik⁷⁵ were here, and later [Aleksandr Nikiforovich] Dunaev. I haven’t seen anyone else; today I went for Lëva’s fur coat and yours, Lëvochka, and shopping for household needs in general. The famous Muir & Mirrielees⁷⁶ will deliver groceries to our home less expensively than others, which avoids any suspicion as to dishonesty on the part of [our] cooks, and consequently it will be easier dealing with them. — Thank you all for writing so many letters: I received three. My health is better — i.e. for two nights now there has been no fever or perspiration. But the melancholy I am struggling with is terrible; it won’t let up. Just as soon as night falls, everything is gloomy; I keep wanting to cry; I am literally physically and morally cut off.

I hope your cold has gone, Lëvochka, otherwise it could be the start of influenza. The old man Gattsuk ⁷⁷ died of influenza. Today it is –10º, with a fearful wind as well as snow. The coachmen are using sleighs. If you are so cold, I’d hesitate about going out.

And our potatoes and apples — all frozen! I’ve just received the receipt.

Vanechka wakes me up every morning at 7 o’clock, and plaintively begs for his soother. We’ve never given it to him, and he doesn’t drink milk [by itself], rather tea with milk, and he eats precious little. But he is cheerful; Sasha and the boys, too. If only all of them were healthy! Misha is not a good pupil — all twos.⁷⁸ Andrjusha is much better. Yesterday they were both playing the violin: [here] Misha is better. — I’m not fixing up the house, none of it is in order; I just can’t bring myself to such a trivial activity; it’s a shame to pay out money, we have to skimp everywhere, and I do everything myself with Fomich.⁷⁹ The servants are all despondent, not cheerful either. Upstairs they don’t light [the lamps] and barely stoke [the stoves]. We all crowd together downstairs, each one doing his own thing. Farewell, my dears, don’t forget me and write at every opportunity — give me all the details of how you are getting along. And Lëva is drowning in this sea of the Samaran steppes; I miss him the most, but there’s no way I can hold him back.

Now in a few days I’ll write to Dankov Uezd,⁸⁰ [where you’ll be] by that time.

S. T.

25 October 1891.

Nº 154 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 221]
26 October 1891. Night. [Moscow]

Thank you for your letter,⁸¹ dear Lëvochka. And so, you are leaving tomorrow, and probably Lëva, too. It will be very interesting [to see] what will come of your attempts to help. In my opinion — and I stand by my own [opinion] — you have all been going about this the wrong way right from the start. Anyway, it’s too late now. I shall live with the hope and the expectation that at some point these difficult times will pass, that everybody will come home and the famine will blow over. Now everyone is saying that the situation is far worse than anyone could have anticipated. What a heavy weight on the soul from the hopelessness of providing help in this natural disaster! Lëva’s trip worries me no less than yours. He’s taken nothing with him, hasn’t given thought to anything; he has no idea what is involved in a long-distance trip in the countryside, especially through the steppes; his whole mental state is one of agitation, despair and uncertainty — [i.e.] run as fast as you can whatever betides — and nothing more.

Today I spent the whole day at home, the wallpaperers were hammering and Fomich was agitated. Andrjusha and Misha bought some warm fur hats, gloves and galoshes, and got twos [on their tests]. Sasha had her first French lesson with Monsieur [Lambert] and had a great time laughing loudly. Then she and [Miss] Lidia kept repeating French words, giggling all the while, and went for a walk just to the postbox, since it is very cold out. I didn’t let Vanechka go out [at all]. He is healthy for the moment and very precious, and really misses his soother. He says himself: “Vanja’s outgrown now”, and he’s started to drink more milk, and is eating better. Mitasha Obolenskij ⁸² came for dinner and told me about you. But he got me worried, saying that you look ill and weak, that you’ve grown thin and aged a lot. [I can just imagine] how well you will look when you come back from Dankovskij Uezd! — He also got me worried when he said that his wife⁸³ has a great deal of sympathy for me; she even pitied me after reading your declaration on the 17th of September.⁸⁴ She thought (as everybody probably thought — I anticipated this) that you were angry with me and deliberately published this declaration behind my back on my name-day. And what a coincidence: on the 17th of September I was given and [then] deprived of [your] story: The death of Ivan Ilyich [Smert’ Ivana Il’icha]. — This is all very painful, and for so long now everything — everything has been painful.

My health is better, the fever’s gone and probably won’t return.

After dinner [Aleksandr Nikiforovich] Dunaev came, and later [Nikolaj Jakovlevich] Grot. At the same time Protas’ev⁸⁵ showed up to collect his money for the paper. Grot was very agitated. Moskovskie vedomosti raised a huge alarm over Solov’ëv’s reading,⁸⁶ and here [in Moscow] was Pobedonostsev,⁸⁷ and the editor of Moskovskie vedomosti⁸⁸ and his staff were reporting to Pobedonostsev that — just look and see what evil is coming from that. At this point they illegally cancelled the whole November issue on orders from Petersburg. Your article is considered less harmful and they promise to let it through, while most of the attack was directed at Solov’ëv. If they don’t retract the cancellation soon, Grot will go to Petersburg.

Obolenskij wrote an article (it will appear as an editorial) on his [projected] edition of a special album in aid of the famine victims, and in it he mentioned that you were contributing your story. Which one? He even says that you gave him your word that you would write or contribute something. He read his article to us aloud. — I finished the evening alone, since the children were at the Severtsevs’,⁸⁹ and it is nighttime now. I am anxiously awaiting news from Dankovskij Uezd; how are you all getting along there? I hope that [our daughter] Tanja will take good care of you all; all my hope is pinned on her; I just hope nobody takes ill in this dry cold. How have my fur coats been received? Farewell, dear Lëvochka; you take care of the girls, too, and let them take care of you.

Hugs and kisses to you all.

S. T.

Nº 155 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/463]
29 October 1891. Begichevka.

Oh, how I wish that this letter might find [you] in a good mental state, my friend. I shall hope that this is so, and tomorrow, when the post arrives, I shall wait and open your letter with great anticipation. — You write that you are all alone, miserable, and I feel sad for you. But enough of that. I shall write about us. We all took a wagon ride in fine weather: Lëva, Popov ⁹⁰ and the five of us⁹¹ including Mar’ja Kirillovna. At the station we met Ivan Ivanovich [Raevskij], who went with us. At the station, as everywhere, there were [a whole lot of] common people heading out [to look] for work and returning after a fruitless search — it’s a bottomless pit.

We had tickets for 3rd class but they put us in 2nd class. Here we found Kern⁹² and later Bogojavlenskij.⁹³ The heat was terrible, and were simply dazed by it. At Klekotki we bade farewell to Lëva and Popov⁹⁴ and found two troikas with sleighs [which had been sent] for us. We decided not to go on, because a blizzard was blowing, and we spent quite a good night in a poor but relatively clean hotel.

The girls are taking such good care of me, they did all the packing so meticulously; they are so conscientious that one can only wish them a reduction rather than an increase in their duties. All this is your own care for me expressed through them, and I do appreciate it, even though I don’t actually need it, or so it seems to me. We rose early this morning, but did not set out until 10. We had a fine trip and kept ourselves warm. At one point I put on my sheepskin coat — and we arrived at 2 o’clock. The house was warm and heated — everything had been beautifully prepared [for us]. Ivan Ivanovich put me in his magnificent study. The girls have two rooms with a special entranceway. There is a large general-purpose room for repas. [Ivan Ivanovich] himself moved into Aleksej Mitrofanovich’s⁹⁵ little room, together with his Fedot.⁹⁶ Today I insisted that we switch places and that he move back to his study. And now I’ve moved, and I’m doing just fine; it’s warm and cozy, and Fedot sleeps behind a partition. Dinner is simple, neat and filling; there’s milk a-plenty.

After dinner I took a nap. Our things arrived. The girls unpacked them; in the evening Ivan Ivanovich’s son-in-law Mordvinov⁹⁷ came; [he is] the district council head, and is all absorbed in looking after the people. After he left, and everyone dispersed at 9 o’clock, I sat down to write an article about how frightening it is not to know whether Russia will or will not have enough food to feed [her people],⁹⁸ and I continued writing until 11 o’clock. Then I had an excellent sleep. In the morning I went on with the article. By and by I chatted with Ivan Ivanovich, and the girls’ activities became more focused. I’m urging Tanja to organise spinning and weaving work, that would provide an income [for the famine victims in the region]. Masha will [take charge] of the soup-kitchens and bakery. Just now I visited three villages, in two of which I found places for soup-kitchens which in each case would accommodate up to 50 people. — There are no easy words to describe the poverty and neglect these people [have suffered]. But it is good and healthy to see them, if only we can be of service to them in some way, and I think we can. You probably know from Grot that my article was among the others taken to Petersburg, to the censorship board, and they will probably ban it. And I’m glad. I’ll write another and rework this one. It should have a kinder [tone], but it is hard to be both truthful and kind. If I do write it, I’ll send it to you. You and Grot should look it over and send it to Russkie vedomosti. — Well, farewell for now. Hugs and kisses to you and the children — petite and precious, as Fet put it, and to you, who are not petite but still precious. Ivan Ivanovich has gone to see Pisarev ⁹⁹ and will probably bring him back with him.

L. T

Nº 156 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/464]
2 November 1891. Begichevka.

We haven’t received any letters [from you] yet, dear friend, and I’m concerned about you. I hope we shall receive one tomorrow, and that there will be good news from you. Our activity here is most joyful, if one can call activity joyful which stems from human misfortune. Three soup-kitchens are open and operating. It is touching to see how little is needed to render help and, more importantly, to call forth feelings of kindness. Today I was at two [kitchens] at the times of gathering and dinner. There were around 30 people each time. These included a priest’s widow and a sexton’s wife. Today I made the observation that upon taking a close look at the sufferings, even the tremendous deprivation and suffering are not surprising, since worse [calamities] can be seen all around. And the sufferers themselves see it, too. Our girls are all very busy, they are helpful and sensitive to this. We are not expanding our activity so as not to exceed our means, but if anyone wanted to assist others, here is a wide open field. And it’s so easy and simple. The setting up of soup-kitchens, for which we are indebted to Ivan Ivanovich [Raevskij], is an amazing thing. The people take to it like something innate, natural, and look on it all as something that ought to be this way and cannot be otherwise. I’ll describe this in more detail at another time. Ivan Ivanovich is very dear to all of us. Warm-hearted, intelligent and serious. We all [find ourselves] loving him more and more. We are getting along splendidly. It’s too luxurious and comfortable. Pisarev was here yesterday, and today she¹⁰⁰ was supposed to come. Tomorrow Tanja is planning to go see her. Natasha¹⁰¹ is very dear, energetic and serious. Bogojavlenskij¹⁰² was here twice. I wrote that article.¹⁰³ I read it to Pisarev and Raevskij; they approved, and it seems it might be helpful. There’s no eloquence there, and no room for it, but there is something which is precisely needed and is tormenting everyone. Send it as soon as you can to Russkie vedomosti, and if they offer, accept money from them, the more the better, for our soup-kitchens. If they send some, fine, but if not, that’s fine, too. Payment is not necessary, but if they send it, we’ll find a use for it here.

I’m writing this, and am afraid myself. I’m afraid lest this money and any money contributed might throw us off and lead into activities beyond our capabilities. People are needed most of all. — Write me more specifically about yourself, your health and the children. Hugs and kisses to you, dear friend, and the children. The girls will probably add something [to this letter].

Ask Aleksej Mitrofanovich [Novikov], to whom I am grateful for his fine letter, to take a look at the article and correct the punctuation and even phrases where there may be some inaccuracies, under your supervision; I’m sure you’ll take a look at the proofs. Regards to [tutor] Monsieur Borel.

Well, farewell for now.

Nº 157 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 224]
4 November 1891. [Moscow]

This evening, dear friend Lëvochka, I received your article [A frightful question]; I sent it and your letter at once with Aleksej Mitrofanovich [Novikov] to Sobolevskij,¹⁰⁴ editor of Russkie vedomosti, asking him to come and see me. Tomorrow morning at 11 o’clock he will come with the article already typeset, and if the censorship board lets it pass, Aleksej Mitrofanovich and I will carefully proofread it. Did you read my letter to the editor in Russkie vedomosti dated 3 November?¹⁰⁵ In just twenty-four hours it brought me in around 1,500 roubles. Write soon about where to send the money. I’ll send you, Serëzha and Lëva 500 roubles each. People will probably be sending in even more.

It’s very touching [how] the money’s coming in. One person crossed themselves upon entering [the house] and contributed silver roubles; another (an elderly man) kissed my hand and said through tears: “Most gracious Countess, accept my gratitude and what I can afford by way of a donation.” He gave 40 roubles. Several lady teachers contributed, and one of them said: “I wept yesterday over your letter.” And then a natilly attired gentleman came on his horse and met Andrjusha at the door. He asked: “Are you Lev Nikolaevich’s son?” “Yes.” “Is your mother at home? Give [this] to her.” And he left. In the envelope was 100 roubles. Children came and contributed 3, 5 or 15 roubles [each]. One lady brought a bundle of old pieces of clothing. One well-dressed young woman was beside herself, saying: “Oh, how touching a letter you wrote! Here, take this — it’s my own money: Papà and Mamà don’t know that I’m giving it away. But I’m so happy to!” In the envelope was 101 roubles 30 kopeks. Brashnin¹⁰⁶ brought 200 roubles.

I don’t know how all of you will look at my actions. But I find it tiresome just sitting by without participating in your efforts, and since yesterday I even feel my health has improved; I record [all my transactions] in a notebook, make out receipts, express my thanks, talk with the public, and I am glad that I can help in the expansion of your cause, even if it is through other people’s donations. Uncle Serëzha, who is visiting me, has a sympathetic attitude; Ekaterina Fëdorovna Junge ¹⁰⁷ was here and enthusiastically supports my plan. Everybody is in favour, what do you all say? As soon as I receive the money from the Theatrical Directorate,¹⁰⁸ I shall again send you money, only I would urge you to keep a strict tally of what is bought with this money and where, who is fed, in what places, in case I need to publish an account of donations.

Just now I received a telegram from [Nikolaj Jakovlevich] Grot to the effect that your article,¹⁰⁹ Lëvochka, was passed [by the censorship committee] with some minor omissions. I am very much afraid for this latest one;¹¹⁰ it awakened within me a sense of despair, and despair is harmful to the whole spirit of all Russian society and the people.

Nagornov and Varja¹¹¹ are sitting here [with me], and Nagornov says that the amount of foodstuffs in Russia is known precisely. That there is certainly not enough rye, but that there is a great abundance of oats, corn, wheat and potatoes; from the Caucasus they will bring 35 million poods of all sorts of foodstuffs, and 20 million will remain there which cannot be brought in, since there are not enough railway carriages or ships for transport, and so in any case the extra amounts will need to be sold abroad. How true all this is, I don’t know. — Tomorrow I shall write more about what Sobolevskij says.

Everybody’s healthy here. It’s –11º out, and the little ones are all staying at home. Andrjusha and Misha are at the gymnasium. I am teaching Sasha every day, I’m working and sitting quietly as advised by the doctor, and I feel a lot better today. — There’s no news from our sons, not even one of them, and now I am especially concerned about Lëva. — Dear Lëvochka, keep watching out for yourself, eat better and more — you need all the strength for your body. — Your letters are very joyful and interesting to me; write a bit more often. My regards to Ivan Ivanovich [Raevskij]; today [my brother] Petja was with me and read a few of your letters with great enthusiasm.

Hugs and kisses to Masha, Vera, Tanja and to you. Stay healthy and may God help you. When shall we see each other?! I dare not even imagine lest I be overcome with impatience.

Farewell.

S. T.

Nº 158 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 231]
13 November 1891. [Moscow]

I am sending you the receipt for the lentils and peas for your soup-kitchens. Too bad we have to pay for shipping; if I had some Red Cross forms, we could send it free of charge. I don’t know with whom I can send the various pieces of cotton fabric donated by Morozov.¹¹² I am waiting for complimentary shipping. According to all the data I have received from all of you and from other people, I see that everything’s melting, as though a piece of sugar were tossed into a barrel of water, and that charitable aid not only does not save the people, but confuses them, and you look at the whole situation more and more gloomily.

Grot was with me today; he said that the article A frightful question [Strashnyj vopros] aroused disapproval on the part of the government. — “He’s confused us with this article,” said the Minister of Internal Affairs. From the Theatrical Directorate I haven’t yet received either money or news. — However, after the article A frightful question, [the authorities] immediately sent out a communication and gave an order to count all the foodstuffs [in Russia] by 20 November. They say that there will be a Supreme decree to all food-growers to sell their produce to the government at a certain rate. I think it is high time that happened. — I have around 10,000 [roubles now]. I gave Pisarev 3,000 for your disposition, Lëvochka. He suggested buying rye; the two of you should come to some arrangement. We have to decide on the best possible apportionment of what everybody is giving me with such love. I am receiving [the most] touching letters.

Sasha’s taken ill, she has an extremely high temperature and a sore throat. The same old disease. She’s had swollen cheeks, and now influenza. I’m quite exhausted, but I’m not sick.

Today I’m writing a letter to the Minister of Internal Affairs¹¹³ regarding the articles in Moskovskie vedomosti. The way I see it, they are inciting revolution with their articles, comparing Tolstoy, Grot and Solov’ëv to some kind of revived (in their opinion) liberal party which exploits a national calamity for achieving some kind of political end. All this rubbish is difficult to describe. Pick up a copy of Moskovskie vedomosti from the 9th and 11th of November¹¹⁴ and read [for yourself]. The thought I want to convey to the minister is this: if the revolutionaries are made aware of this supposed support from the best representatives of the intelligentsia and their moral influence on society, they will believe their own luck and rise again. And at the present time this is terrible and even dangerous. — Just yesterday I found out that two of the leading activists at Moskovskie vedomosti¹¹⁵ were zealous revolutionaries but have now put on a mask of government and Orthodox [loyalty]. — And how transparent they are under this mask!

I received your letters, dear Lëvochka and Tanja;¹¹⁶ they arrived for some reason with Nikita’s¹¹⁷ wife, whom Ivan Aleksandrovich¹¹⁸ sent along as a cook for [our] servants. Apparently he was on his way to the post office when he handed them over to her for faster delivery. Ivan Aleksandrovich writes, too, that you are all healthy and very cheerful: that you play and sing, that all of you at the Mordvinovs,¹¹⁹ even Lev Nikolaevich, are playing at petits jeux. How cheerful it all is apart from one’s direct obligations! If you only could stay as I did with feverish and capricious children for ten days, you wouldn’t call it a fun time. And I myself am not completely healthy. — I think you have become accustomed to the spectre of famine, while to me here, as to all in Moscow, [the situation] seems very bad. — I am happy that all of you are free from the influenza and the oppressive Moscow atmosphere. I realise now how with passing years it is more and more difficult to change one’s way of life and adapt to [changing] circumstances. That’s the way it’s always been with you, Lëvochka. I never go anywhere at all, either by carriage or on foot; I haven’t even cleaned the house; it’s as though I am heading off somewhere. — Maybe to the next world? — Anyway, I am saying this even though I’m not really ill, and may be troubling you for no reason. Farewell, write in all truthfulness what your plans and intentions are for the future. One thing I ask: don’t go a single step out of your way and don’t change anything for me. My spirit and nerves are not strong enough to endure silent reproaches when you come. I am fairly sensitive to that. Farewell! Father Ioann Kronshtadtskij¹²⁰ sent me 200 roubles. [I received] a postcard from Lëva at Bibikov’s¹²¹ farmstead. That’s where real horrors are taking place — in Samara Gubernia. Hugs and kisses to all.

S. T.

Nº 159 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/475]
28 November 1891. Begichevka.

You already know about the terrible happening.¹²² Now at 12 o’clock on the night of the 27th[–28th], the house is full of relatives who have come: Pisarev, Dolgorukaja,¹²³ Davydova, Nikolaj Vasil’evich Davydov¹²⁴ and various acquaintances besides. Now it’s been thirty-six hours since he died. He died peacefully, without suffering, from pneumonia. Vanja¹²⁵ found him, but he was already unconscious. Elena Pavlovna is a pitiful sight, so are the children. Just now I received both your letter and news from Aleksej Mitrofanovich.¹²⁶ — We are all quite healthy and would like to stay here for several days after the funeral, so as not to give the impression to the famine victims that the whole cause has been disrupted and abrogated with the death of Ivan Ivanovich. I say “would like to”, but it will all depend on your courage. I realise that this is terribly frightening for you, but at the same time I cannot help but see that there are absolutely no grounds for worry. — Everything will take care of itself. I know one thing, that I love you with all my heart and can’t wait to see you and comfort you.

Today your sister Tanja is writing Vera ¹²⁷ about a rumour circulating that we are leaving, and there are whispers abroad that we shouldn’t be abandoning the cause for which so many sacrifices have been made. — And indeed, we should not. Now Matvej Nikolaevich¹²⁸ will remain here for a time; but he cannot cope with the work alone. But in any case we shall discuss the situation together calmly and lovingly. —

I am sending you [my] article about the soup-kitchens.¹²⁹ I didn’t want to offend Gajdeburov,¹³⁰ who has also sent donations from his newspaper and modestly wrote to Tanja: why has your dad forgotten me? But I am ready to agree with you and send it to Russkie vedomosti. Do read it, correct it, transcribe (you can go without transcribing), make a list of your donations and Tanja’s and include them. If something doesn’t go right or if there is a delay for any reason, then we’ll come and I’ll make the correction. I am hastening to write, so that I can send off this letter with Pisarev. I feel terribly sorry for him. I really, really liked him [Raevskij]. And I can’t forgive myself for not understanding him earlier. But, on the other hand, what a joyful and youthful time we had, often triumphantly being and working together this last while. I’ve started to write a few words about him for publication, but then I had second thoughts.¹³¹ In any case, I don’t know. —

Well, good-bye, hugs and kisses to you and the children. Thanks to Lëva for writing. I hope his toothache has passed. Today Iljusha returned from Grodno. [Nikolaj Vasil’evich] Davydov saw him on the train. They were just leaving as he arrived.

L. T.

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki Lane, Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 160 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 244]
6 February 1892. Thursday. [Moscow]

I wrote to Klekotki and I’ll write again to Chernava so that you don’t worry. Tanja and Vera¹³² will leave tomorrow night and go straight to you. Vera has swollen glands, and this is Tanja’s first day of being completely healthy. Posha and Repin¹³³ have arrived. Mikhail [Aleksandrovich] Stakhovich stayed here last night until three o’clock in the morning. I’ve been tormented by rumours about the article in Moskovskie vedomosti.¹³⁴ Tanja writes¹³⁵ that a committee of ministers was assembled in Petersburg and they decided to send you into exile abroad, but that the Tsar vetoed that and said: “He betrayed me to my enemies”, and as though he were quite annoyed: “And [to think] I received his wife, I didn’t do that for anybody [else].” — You will ruin us all with your provocative articles: where is [your] love and non-resistance [to evil]? And you do not have the right, when you have nine children, to ruin me and them. Maybe [you’re on] Christian soil, but [your] words are not good. I am very alarmed and don’t yet know what I shall do, but I can’t leave things as they are. I shall be cautious and gentle — you can be sure of that. Hugs and kisses to you and Masha.

S. T.

Nº 161 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/486]
12 February 1892. Begichevka.

The weather is superb and we want to take advantage of it to visit Bogoroditskij Uezd: — myself, Tanja, Natasha¹³⁶ and Lëva. The trip will probably take about four days. To the Bobrinskijs’ [in Bogoroditsk] is 50 versts, from there [another] 20 to Uspenskoe.¹³⁷ — If the weather’s bad, we shan’t take the sleigh, but will return by rail. We shall be very careful. —

I feel bad, dear friend, that you’re so troubled by the silly rumours regarding the articles in Moskovskie vedomosti, and that you went to see [Grand Prince] Sergej Aleksandrovich.¹³⁸ Nothing new has happened, after all. What I wrote in the article on the famine [has been written] many times, and in far stronger terms. What is new here? It is all a matter of a crowd, and the hypnotising of a crowd, and it is growing like a snowball. I did write a refutation.¹³⁹ But, I beg of you, my friend, do not change a single word, do not add anything, and do not let anyone else change it. I have considered every word carefully and told the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and I completely refuted the false accusation.

The students were of a great help to me.¹⁴⁰

Hugs and kisses to you and the children.

L. T.

Nº 162 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 248]
[16 February 1892. Moscow]

Do not read aloud.

Thank you, dear friend Lëvochka, for sending the letter to Pravitel’stvennyj vestnik.¹⁴¹ Though [Grand Prince] Sergej Aleksandrovich himself said that it would be desirable for you to write a refutation to Pravitel’stvennyj vestnik, as this would calm [people’s] minds and completely satisfy the Tsar, but God knows whether they would print it. In response to my objection that I sent in, Sluchevskij,¹⁴² editor of Pravitel’stvennyj vestnik, wrote that Pravitel’stvennyj vestnik does not accept polemical articles. Istomin,¹⁴³ however, said it was the law. Which Grand Prince Sergej Aleksandrovich might not have known. Anyway, it’s all the same. Sheremeteva¹⁴⁴ will show the Tsar the letter I wrote to her. This is what Aleksandra Andreevna¹⁴⁵ asked Pavel Ivanovich [Birjukov] and also the Kuzminskijs to convey to me. Today I received a letter from Durnovo¹⁴⁶ in response to mine, saying that my refutation, in view of additional rumours, could not be printed. I’ve calmed down now. Moscow society has taken the tone: “La pauvre comtesse, comme elle est dérangée”, and so forth. Yesterday I was told that the Grand Duchess¹⁴⁷ had great sympathy for me and said to tell me that I should not worry, qu’il n’y a rien, rien à craindre. The second rien was particularly emphasised. This [was the message] Olsuf’eva¹⁴⁸ asked to convey to me. I was at Ermolova’s¹⁴⁹ at her Saturday [reception] and there were a lot of people there. — Now tomorrow is [the beginning of] Lent, and I shall happily retreat once more into my shell, from which I would not have emerged at all this year if it were not for this silly story. — But does peace and quiet [ever] last for long? These days you always live with a moral shudder; at any moment something will start knocking at you.

Tanja told someone in Moscow: “How tired I am of being the daughter of a famous father!” — Well, I might say, how tired I am of being the wife of a famous husband!

You’re probably angry, Lëvochka, over my telegrams.¹⁵⁰ But how could I not get nervous again? I receive a letter in the hand of Aleksej Mitrofanovich [Novikov], unsigned and with the words to the effect that you make your admission “in inverted commas”; but in the inverted commas is the lie itself, as in the words: “the importantest question”, etc. I was really horrified that you might have sent it from [Begichevka, without further editing]. And how could your clever ‘nanny’ Tanja have overlooked that? That idiot, Aleksej Mitrofanovich, if he transcribed it, could have at least given it [to you] to sign! What kind of people [are we dealing with]?! Thank God, [we] have got it all corrected now, [we] have come to [our] senses. I sent [your] letter to Pravitel’stvennyj vestnik just today, and received an acknowledgement; I very much approved of the letter.

Now to something else: please take care of the following [for me]: as I was leaving, there was a parcel addressed to me, sent by [our daughter] Tanja. It contained Lëva’s letters, which I pleaded to have sent to me, and no one has done this [to date]. There were also some foreign translations there. Not the ones you sent to me through Sof’ja Alekseevna; those I’ve sent off, but the ones Tanja sent, addressed to me.

Please be more careful; it shouldn’t be like that. Masha probably received [all of] these, as soon as I had left. Where did everything go? I’m asking Tanja to let this be known, and to keep me informed, and to send me what should be coming to me.

I’m also troubled by Masha’s insistently contriving to go to Chernava herself. Has she been in secret correspondence with Petja?¹⁵¹ This is most undesirable. Who knows what will come out of it? She spends all her time in these secret romances, which will burst just as surely as children’s balloons, and she’ll be marked with indelible spots and rebukes of conscience — if she has a conscience, which I doubt, since people with conscience do not deceive, but do everything openly and honestly. — If I’m mistaken [in believing] that she is corresponding secretly, I ask her forgiveness but, after all, she has already deceived me so many times!

Pavel Ivanovich [Birjukov]¹⁵² will be taking this letter. I feel sorry for him now and I still like and respect him as before. What are you assigning him to? Is he not carrying out your plan for the soup-kitchens in Samara? It would be good if he could take Lëva’s place, and Lëva could get down to preparing for his university exams and not quit university.¹⁵³ But, let’s face it, it’s hopeless: [he’s] got off track. I really don’t know or understand anything about Lëva or his plans.

Your trip continues to concern me, as to what its consequences will be. Posha and I sighed when we read that you “had eaten bliny” [Russian pancakes]. You almost died from eating them one February [1890], after all. [This is] the worst month for colic diseases. I myself have been unwell since [visiting] Begichevka; I’ve often felt sick in the pit of my stomach; please don’t let yourself go, take care and watch what you eat.

I’ve been sending you [things], sending you everything, now I’m not sending anything. Tanja is not writing [to tell me] what you need, though there will be a chance on Thursday — Boratynskaja¹⁵⁴ is coming your way; she’s been called to Saratov, and is getting ready to go there, unless you find there’s something she can do for you. I suggest you do precisely that — i.e. persuade [her] to go to Saratov. You’ve got lots of people [where you are], but there are [only] a few there. Nothing has resulted with Stebut.¹⁵⁵ In my opinion, these Stebuts are extremely unpleasant [to deal with], and they be best left alone. We wanted to help his region, but he not only refuses to help Ekaterina Ivanovna find a place to live, but is creating all sorts of complexities besides.

Vanechka kept running around looking for something to send ‘the ladies’. He had some pistachio nuts, laid them all out and then asked me for something more and had me write: “From Vanja to the ladies”. Don’t let them overlook his little box and his consideration.

Yesterday we had a dance lesson, and the children eagerly learnt the mazurka. After dancing at the Sverbeevs, Misha’s simply crazy about dancing; he keeps doing [all sorts of] steps, and Andrjusha looks at him with some degree of envy, [imagining] that he’s missed out on something. Andrjusha has had a red throat now for five days. There’s no fever, but he can’t go out of the house and is very bored. — They [both] have good moral thoughts for Lent: studying well, obtaining excellent [marks for] behaviour, eating Lenten fare, and so forth. — Sasha is healthy, Vanja, too. He sings all morning, plays and enjoys life. Until you give me precise instructions as to what Kolechka Ge and I are to do about provisions, I hesitate to undertake any further steps. I sent 1,500 roubles for two railway wagons of peas, along with a money order for 10,000 roubles, promising to send another 5,000 during the first week of Lent — i.e. 16,500 roubles to Kolechka Ge; I shall have 6,500 roubles left of charity money left in the bank, 2,000 roubles from [the sale of contributed] diamonds and 1,600 roubles at home — about 10,000 silver roubles in all. I don’t advise you to open any further [soup-kitchens], as contributions have completely dried up.

Zinov’ev¹⁵⁶ was here; he said that they are issuing firewood for the soup-kitchens. We need to write to Glebov¹⁵⁷ (Vladimir Petrovich, Tula, Petersburg Hotel), [asking him] to give permission to take wood from the forest plot which you designate. The peasants have to be paid for [their] work, [as well as] those who process the wood; those who transport it, too, shouldn’t have to do it for free. The wood is moist as it’s fresh from the trees. Well, that’s everything. Hugs and kisses to all; don’t forget me, dear friends, and do answer my questions which I am writing out [below].

S. Tolstaya.

16 February 1892

My questions:

1) Where has the package gone which was addressed to me and [where are] the foreign translations?

2) Send me Lëva’s letters.

3) Am I wrong about Masha?

4) Why is Lëva staying at Begichevka for two months and is he needed there?

5) Who will replace him in Samara?

6) Where are you assigning Pavel Ivanovich [Birjukov]?

7) Shall I send another 5,000 roubles to Kolechka Ge after sending 11,500 roubles?

8) What are the 600 roubles that Sof’ja Alekseevna ¹⁵⁸ was telling me about?

9) Did you receive the onions and cabbage?

10) Why is Sof’ja Alekseevna not paying me the 1,000 roubles and saying that Tanja or Papà received 50 pounds sterling addressed to her from England, and that you still owe her for the soup-kitchens?

11) What shall I send by way of supplies?

12) How is Bogojavlenskij’s¹⁵⁹ health?

Please, dear Tanja, answer all these questions of mine point by point. It would be better if you didn’t get mixed up with Sof’ja Alekseevna. She has had nothing good to say about you all, and when I went to see her, she let out such a malicious poisonous flood of condemnations, curses and silly and crazy nonsense that I shan’t go see her any more. Everyone in Moscow is afraid of her, the way they’re afraid of a mad dog that’s got loose and is attacking everyone. I’ve experienced this now personally.

In any case, you should know that Natasha¹⁶⁰ has been sent three railway wagons of peas and five of rye, and I have received only 4,000 roubles.

Tanja, you need to do a better job taking care of Papà. How could you have given him bliny? Hugs and kisses to you.

S. T.

Nº 163 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/494]
28 February 1892. Begichevka.

We’ve been living through these snowstorms in complete silence and isolation; yesterday, the 27th, (as Tanja knows) I rode once again to Rozhnja, but once again didn’t make it. The snow was piling up in mountains, and there were no roads [to be discerned] anywhere. I went to Kolodezi and another village [to see] about firewood and shelters for the children; then did some blacksmithing with the muzhiks and got home at 5. At home I found Ekaterina Ivanovna Boratynskaja with a letter from the Swede.¹⁶¹ At that moment Vysotskij¹⁶² arrived, a friend of Vladimirov’s,¹⁶³ then towards evening two Alëkhin brothers,¹⁶⁴ Skorokhodov¹⁶⁵ from Poltava, along with their chum Sukachëv. I would have been glad to meet them each individually, but everybody at once was too much. Vysotskij is leaving today and he will take this letter. Skorokhodov and Sukachëv will go to the horses at Kurkino. Mitrofan [Vasil’evich] Alëkhin will go with Posha to Orlovka [to oversee] the distribution [for famine relief] and to run the Orlovka soup-kitchens and do all the bookkeeping for us, which he is a master at. He is very likeable — not like [his brother] Arkadij. — Now about food.

In my latest letter, if I remember correctly, I explained to you the significance of Kolichka handling [my] order for 22 railway wagons, and I didn’t understand what that meant. Now everything’s fine. Have him place the order. Only I don’t know whether he has [governor’s] authorisations. He writes now,¹⁶⁶ sending a detailed account, that he needs 24 authorisations. Did you send those to him? If not, then do send them, if you can, or (you, Tanja)¹⁶⁷ obtain them and send them. It will be easier and faster for you all from Moscow to make contact with the [various] governors. And confirm with Kolichka that he placed the order, if there’s time.

Concerning Grot, I wrote [earlier], and he would also write a letter and issue a hectographed press release for sending to newspapers and journals. I’ve signed it all and am despatching it. — For God’s sake, dear friend, don’t you worry about this. According to dear Aleksandra Andreevna’s letter,¹⁶⁸ they’re taking the tone that I’ve incriminated myself in some way and that I must justify myself to someone. This tone should be rejected. I write what I think, and for twelve years [I’ve been writing things] that cannot please either the government or the upper classes, and I write not haphazardly but deliberately, and not only do I not intend to justify myself in this, but I hope that those who want me to justify myself will endeavour not to justify themselves, but at least to purge themselves of what not I but all life itself accuses them of.

In this particular case the following is happening: The government establishes the censorship board, awkward and illegitimate as it is, preventing people’s thoughts from appearing in their real light, forcing these things to appear in a distorted form abroad. The government becomes agitated and instead of taking an open and honest look at the situation, it again hides behind the censorship board, and also takes offence in some way, allowing itself to put the blame on others rather than itself. What I wrote in the article on the famine is part of what I have been writing and saying at every turn for the past twelve years, and shall continue saying it until the day of my death; and this is what is said not only by me, but by everything that is enlightened and honest in the whole world, what is said by the heart of every uncorrupted human being, what is said by the Christianity that is confessed by the very people that stand aghast [at what I teach]. I ask you kindly not to take on the tone of an accused. This is a complete reversal of roles. One can remain silent. If one does not remain silent, one must accuse not [so much] Moskovskie vedomosti, (which is not at all [an] interesting [step to take]), and not individual people, but those living conditions that allow everything to be possible that is possible with us. I’ve been wanting to write this [to you] for a long time now. And early this morning, with a clear head, I am outlining what I think about this. — Notice along with this that my views are laid out in my writings, which appear in 10,000 copies in various languages. And all at once, through the aid of some mysterious letters which have appeared in the English papers, everyone has suddenly realised what kind of bird I am! That’s funny, after all. Only those ignorant people, the most ignorant of whom are members of the [Imperial] court, are incapable of knowing what I wrote and think that such views as mine may one day suddenly change and become revolutionary. All of that is funny. And to reason with such people for me is both humiliating and insulting.

I fear that you will curse me for these diatribes, dear friend, and accuse me of pride. But that would not be fair. It’s not pride. But those principles of Christianity by which I live cannot be bent to the demands of non-Christian people, and I am not asserting myself nor do I feel insulted for myself, but for those principles by which I live.

So I have written and signed the declaration, since, as dear Grot justifiably notes, truth always needs to be restored, if that is the case. — For those who tear up portraits, it was quite pointless to have had them in the first place.¹⁶⁹

Just look at how I have sounded off before breakfast! And I’m afraid that I shan’t answer some essential [question] or say what needs saying. If so, I shall write to Chernava the day after tomorrow. I received Ivan Aleksandrovich’s letter¹⁷⁰ to Lëva and read it. It gave me some concept of their work there. — I shall send Posha to see him. Hugs and kisses to him and Tanja. Today I hope to receive some news of her. Bogojavlenskij is terribly weak, but no worse [than before]. Thanks to dear Vanechka [for his letter].¹⁷¹ I hope that his disease has passed. Otherwise you would have written [about it].

Ekaterina Ivanovna [Boratynskaja] is heading off to see [Ivan Aleksandrovich] Stebut.

Big hugs and kisses to you.

L. T.

On the envelope: Sofia Andreevna.

Nº 164 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/547]
7 November 1892. Yasnaya Polyana. [Preceded by SAT’s Nº 8U, 25 April 1892 and Nº 9U, 11 May 1892]

I’m writing to you both for you and for myself. I’ve got accustomed each evening to communicating with you — both writing and receiving. Posha will tell you all what happened yesterday.¹⁷² It’s been a rather difficult time with our guests, but we, it seems, did nothing to offend them. The only thing was that we [might have] tired them out with walking.

Yesterday we received your distressed letter¹⁷³ regarding [our daughter] Tanja. She, it seems, wrote one letter when she was not in a good mood, and held it back, but not a second one. But all this is so silly when you see, as I can see as an onlooker, that you love each other. I saw how Tanja suffered yesterday when she found out she had hurt you, — and so neither you nor any one [of us] should get angry or offended at one another, especially in trying to justify ourselves. We are all such weak and pitiful [creatures] that if we are to understand each other, we can only show mercy and love, and in no way get angry. I feel terribly sorry about your autumn melancholy, not only that, but you are in Moscow and not well. My only comfort is [knowing] that the more quickly it comes upon you, the more quickly it will pass.

Last night I also had a visit from the ‘dark’ fellow, Anatolij Butkevich,¹⁷⁴ whom you are afraid of, but who is kind, meek and a pitiful sight. Yesterday he told me that once when he was 9 years old, he was running after his brother, aiming a curtain-rod like a pretend rifle; as he was heading through a door, the rod hit the door-frame [by mistake] and [its other end] pierced him in the eye. The eye bled, and he was a hair’s breadth from madness or death. And now his other eye has started to hurt. How can you get angry and condemn a 9-year-old like that, or a 32-year-old, for that matter?

Yesterday I received a letter ¹⁷³ from Lëva. God grant that he come through this experience as quickly as possible, in a way that he will look back on it with joy and not with shame.¹⁷⁵ — This morning Popov¹⁷⁶ (also pitiful, timid, meek, desirous of being as good as possible) and Butkevich went to see Bulygin.¹⁷⁷ And shortly after noon [our daughter] Tanja¹⁷⁸ went to Tula on some sort of business — about a blind girl on Mordvinova’s¹⁷⁹ [estate], then about firewood, and was afterwards going to go to Mamonova’s.¹⁸⁰ She’ll return on Tuesday. It’s always hard to let her go. But she went. Sonja Mamonova always travels alone and showed her how to make enquiries and to whom. So Masha and I had dinner just the two of us. What do you think of Masha’s trip to the Don [River]?¹⁸¹ I, too, find it very hard to let her go, but travel is useful now for [our] cause, in Posha’s absence. Hugs and kisses to you and the children.

L. T.

Masha will take this letter now (10 o’clock) to Kozlovka. Will there be anything from you?

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki, 15. Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 165 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 278]
[9 November 1892. Moscow]

For the very first time, dear Lëvochka, you wrote me a letter¹⁸² in which I could feel your heart, and I at once felt light and cheerful, as though my whole life were once again turned radiant. You were quite right that none of us should feel angry towards one another, especially us oldsters. We need to treat everything calmly and remember that the basis of our relationship is a solid love for one another, — and that’s the main thing. — There’s no way I can separate myself from all sorts of physical influences. My fright over Vanechka’s illness, my quarrel with Tanja — all that has had an effect on my women’s complaints. The past two days I have been doubled over with pain in my loins, then I didn’t sleep the whole night, and then [my period] came way ahead of time. All of this has produced such melancholy, agitation and unrest that it’s simply a tragedy. — Your letter today sobered and comforted me. Granted, I can very quickly switch from one mood to another, but in essence, it is true, I love you all fervently, and it’s all just a matter of words — while in actuality I always try to do what is best for you all. Except when I am unable to cope with my physical disorders, which often throw me off track.

Yesterday I wrote you literally blaming you over the girls’ [behaviour], and I’m very sorry if I hurt you. But I suddenly felt terribly sorry for them, and fearful for their future.

Everybody’s healthy here, it’s snowing out and some people have gone out sleighing. I’ve been staying at home for four days now because of illness; it’s better not to move and stay healthy rather than to be out and about, shopping, etc., and suffer an abnormal condition. Now I hope that I shall get better [soon]: the peak of the autumn season has passed. Come some autumn I shall either die or kill myself. It’s a kind of periodic madness.

Amiel ¹⁸³ says there are times when we should live quite idly and have fun. — [We] should try to live this way. — A terrible snowstorm is blowing. What’s going on with you? The snowstorm here has lasted three days already. Please confirm Tanja’s arrival at least by telegram. I, too, am disturbed by her leaving in weather like this. And nobody’s written [to tell me] just where Tanja gets off [the train] and how many versts their estate¹⁸⁴ is from the railway. Hugs and kisses to you and Masha and Tanja, if she’s returned. Don’t let Masha travel in a snowstorm, and when she does go, remind her of our general rule: never try to move anywhere in a snowstorm. God keep you all healthy and safe.

S. Tolstaya.

9 November 1892.

Today Lëva’s account¹⁸⁵ has been published but in a greatly abridged [form].

Evening.

Evgenij Ivanovich’s mother¹⁸⁶ has come. Without my request, she has been allowed [to open] an eating-house, and she’s very satisfied and happy. She’s a good woman as she passionately loves children; she’s full of energy and works for their benefit. But what a strange environment! Nothing is clearly understandable. She came to me to see whether there were any possibility of sending a fur coat to her son at Yasnaya. Unfortunately there is nobody [who could take it]. Liza’s husband¹⁸⁷ was here, too. He is a very serious chap and is involved in questions of thought-distraction, hypnosis, etc. How are you all getting along, how’s Tanja? I love you all so much and constantly think of you all.

Nº 166 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/556]
3 February 1893. Yasnaya Polyana.

We received two letters from you,¹⁸⁸ though yesterday there were none; but thank you all the same. But the more often and the more details you write, the more pleasant it is for us. It’s good that Lëva came and is cheerful. You write that you had visits from Ge,¹⁸⁹ Solov’ëv,¹⁹⁰ Stolypin,¹⁹¹ Sukhotin,¹⁹² [our son] Serëzha, Kasatkin,¹⁹³ — all dear people, but everybody all at once is too much for me to take in. This is the inconvenience of the city. Two is company, three is none.¹⁹⁴ I should like to see each of them individually, but [when they come] all together, an intelligent and interesting conversation is probably impossible. And you’re all [immersed] in proofreading again.¹⁹⁵ I’m afraid that you will completely fray your nerves, and I would advise you hand this work to a proofreader. — We shall go when Tanja arrives. Tomorrow I shall be meeting with the new District Council head, Tulubl’ev¹⁹⁶ and discuss what should be done here. Yesterday I went to Yasenki, today to Tula, [where] I saw L’vov¹⁹⁷ at Davydov’s.¹⁹⁸ There are no [governor’s] authorisations left, and Posha writes that there is little firewood and it’s very much needed. Could it not be obtained from Petersburg, from the Heir’s committee,¹⁹⁹ and through Aleksandra Andreevna or someone else? Find out from someone, and if [the answer is] yes, have Tanja write. [My] work is going well. After dinner Masha and I corrected [her translation of] Amiel.²⁰⁰ [Amiel] is very good. Gertsog’s²⁰¹ letter is lying on my desk [in Moscow]. Have Tanja bring it [to me]. We are completely well. [I] only [wish] all of you were the same.

Hugs and kisses to all. We are eating splendidly and having wonderful sleeps. It’s terrific weather outdoors, warm in the house.

On the reverse side: Moscow. Khamovniki Lane, House Nº 115. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 167 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 291]
25 February, evening. 1893. [Moscow]

Today I received news from you, dear Lëvochka, that you are coming on Saturday, and I do look forward to seeing you. I hope that nothing will get in the way [of your arrival], and that you are all healthy. — Yesterday Lëva brought you news from us;²⁰² but listening to the fearful howling of the wind, I worried about him all night, as to how his trip was. A terrible snowstorm has been blowing for the past twenty-four hours, with a temperature of –10º. For Lëva with his frail physical frame any disease is dangerous; I hope he hasn’t caught cold and that you will all take good care of yourselves to the end [of your stay]. — [Our daughter] Tanja has embraced her Moscow life quite eagerly, it seems. She has told me little about Begichevka and the situation there, and I am waiting for the news from you. Tanja was invited by the Mamonovs for tea at three o’clock today, and from there she went to [art] school. On Saturday she and Sonja ²⁰³ are organising a children’s party and some sort of game; they’ve invited about twenty children, and I’m very afraid you will not find it a pleasant [experience] arriving amidst this bustle and crowd of children with their parents. But there’s no way we can cancel it; besides, our children have gone visiting so many times that it is our turn to host [people] here. Anyway, it’s all been organised by Tanja and Sonja themselves.

My life goes on in the same old world — [the world] of War and peace [Vojna i mir], in which I find great pleasure. Only my eyes have finally given out and have somehow started hurting from [all] the proofreading, so yesterday I decided not to work through the night. How silly I was when you were writing War and peace and how smart you were! How delicately — cleverly, with such genius — War and peace was written. — Only one thing: when [I re-read] Childhood [Detstvo] I often wept; with Family happiness [Semejnoe schast’e] my nose twitched, but with War and peace you spend the whole time marvelling, admiring, dumbfounded — but you don’t cry. We shall see how it goes with Anna Karenina.

The children are healthy; they didn’t go out today; but yesterday Tanja took Sasha and Vanja and accompanied them to the Martynovs’²⁰⁴ and the Sukhotins’,²⁰⁵ while I made some necessary calls. Tomorrow is the Tsar’s [birth]day, and the children will be excited, but will hardly be able to undertake anything in this weather. As far as writing more, “nothing comes to me”, as our Samara foreman put it to me. I am sitting down to do proofreading, and shall continue until nightfall. You haven’t been writing anything about Masha’s cough. I hope that [if] you are having a day like [ours here], you will be taking good care of each other. Hugs and kisses; I shan’t write anything more [until you come].

S. Tolstaya.

I don’t know why, but what touches me most in War and peace is always the old prince and Princess Marya, and all the Bolkonskys in general, and not the Rostovs at all.

Nº 168 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/577]
15 September 1893. Yasnaya Polyana.

Yesterday I didn’t manage to get off a proper letter to you.²⁰⁶ —

Today Vanechka came to tea, and I told him that you were unwell. I saw how this upset him. He asked: And what if she becomes really sick?. I said: Then we’ll go see her. He said: And we’ll take Rudnev ²⁰⁷ with us. Then Lëva showed up and sent [Vanechka] to Tanja to ask for yesterday’s mail. You have to see how he understood everything, and with what joy he ran to carry it out, how upset he was that Lëva thought that he conveyed the wrong message. He is very dear — more than dear — good. Yesterday the weather was marvellously fresh, and I went on foot to Tula. [In Tula] I wanted to see Bulygina²⁰⁸ and [Nikolaj Vasil’evich] Davydov, and to go to the post office. I had an easy and pleasant walk [to Tula]; Davydov and I actually crossed paths, but we didn’t recognise each other. But upon learning at his flat that he had gone to see us, I hurried and took a cab to Rudakova Hill; here I met a driver from Kaznacheevo who offered to give me a lift. At Zaseka I met Davydov and took him back to Yasnaya. He’s very nice; he told me that an excerpt from my latest book The Kingdom of God Is Within You [Tsarstvo Bozhie vnutri vas est’] about conscription was published in Figaro. This is a little disconcerting. It’s also disconcerting to me that Masha has once more got involved with Zander.²⁰⁹ She turned him down sharply, too sharply, it seems. He replied to her in a letter, which touched even me. I wrote him a letter²¹⁰ taking pity on him, and thought that was the end of it. But she had written quite a different reply to his letter, saying she was not turning him down, that everything remained as it was before he left, i.e. that [he should] wait until the new year. I feel very sorry for her. I hope she will come to her senses. But we have to wait for this to take place within herself and her relations with him. External pressure might only prevent a good and rational solution. She has not talked about this with either Tanja or Vera, but told me on condition that I not tell them. I advised her today to write to you. But she said that she already wrote you yesterday and will write again today. Don’t be too cross with her. It’s quite a pitiful situation, but if she’s in an ill mood, she can be helped only through tenderness and kindness. What you write about the Raevskijs,²¹¹ that’s hard, too. After Petja Raevskij and Posha to choose Zander! — We’ll talk about it when we see each other. The main thing is: neither she nor we should take any action. I am telling her this, but she has written another letter. She [acts] as though she’s ill. I [can only] imagine how this is upsetting you — God grant, to a lesser degree than me. Hugs and kisses to you and the children.

L. T.

On the envelope: Moscow, Khamovniki Lane, House Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 169 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/588]
28 January 1894. Grinëvka.

We are living here very quietly and well. — Only today we had a visit from the Ivanovs;²¹² Treskin’s sister with her children and husband. They are simple, ordinary people. I do my writing in the morning, the rest of the time I read or go for a walk. Yesterday I walked over to Nikol’skoe; admired [my brother] Serëzha’s house and the intérieur. His assistant coachman brought me home on a jet-black mare; Aleksandr Afanas’evich ²¹³ was in Mtsensk. I’m coughing rather little — much less than in Moscow; however, there is some sort of pain — or, rather, uncomfortableness — in my chest, but mainly it’s weakness, a loss of physical and emotional energy that has manifested itself with this illness. Perhaps it is a new phase of old age which I am not accustomed to yet. I have to adapt. Today I received Lëva’s letter and yours.²¹⁴ His trip to Paris was quite pleasant. Only he’s terribly susceptible to new impressions. His parting ways with the doctor²¹⁵ (I don’t get the impression from his letter that their relations have deteriorated) is very good. I’ve never approved of this doctor’s presence — not for my own sake, but for Lëva’s. Everyone must tread their own special and ever new path. And Lëva’s path is of interest to me. What will come of all this nobody can tell. His health does not concern me very much. I’m somehow confident — God forbid I’m mistaken — that it will be restored in its own good time independently of doctors and climate, provided, of course, nothing out of the way occurs. I am interested in his spiritual life and his inner workings. Now I want to write to him, too.

From Il’ja there were two letters from Berlin.²¹⁶ Sonja is writing to him, and we are confident that even without a letter or telegrams they won’t miss each other in Paris, since they have points of contact in Dimer Bobrinskij²¹⁷ and Salomon.²¹⁸ Tanja isn’t her usual cheerful self — it’s either her stomach, or she’s freezing. Anyway, she’s better today. In the morning she does drawing and goes for walks, and in the evenings she meticulously transcribes for me. — I’ve been reading Michel Tessier.²¹⁹ How mediocre! How artificial it all is! One does not see the passion which prompted him to ruin everything, and even less of his (Tessier’s) talent. Along with this I’ve been reading [Alexandre] Duma-père’s old novel Sylvandire. What a difference! Fast-paced, cheerful, clever and talented, and sobre, and without pretensions. But this chap pompously puts on the charm and passes himself off as a psychologist… Hugs and kisses to the children. I cannot think of Andrjusha without unpleasant associations over his silly speeches about killing Germans with a bayonet. I try to forget, and shall forget, but [it is still] unpleasant. Farewell, hugs and kisses to you. What about Posha — has he arrived? Forward any letters to me [which come to Moscow]. Sometimes there are important ones. Besides, if you don’t send them, too many pile up.

Nº 170 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 303]
31 January 1894. [Moscow]

Dear Lëvochka, thank you for writing me your long letter;²²⁰ the one thing that bothers me is your loss of energy, which I have been noticing this past while, and that frightens me. In part it’s your less-than-serious but persisting state of ill-health, partly your strict Lenten diet — in addition, the winter thaw may be having its usual bad effect on you. How will you all be living there at Yasnaya? It must be very uncomfortable there. I am happy this time that you all have gone, and I am not complaining about my loneliness. This was needful for you; as for us [in Moscow], we have had a rest from the crowd from which you do not wish and do not know how to free yourselves.

I am sending Lëva’s letter;²²¹ it is not very comforting. It is apparent that once again he is frightened of being alone and misses the family. He will probably come with Il’ja; and earlier [than usual], in the spring, he will head off to Yasnaya, where we shall, I think, order some koumiss to be sent. It’s silly to think of it as harmful, but it must be taken in moderation. I am asking Tanja to bring me back Lëva’s letters. What’s this about her catarrh of the stomach developing, too? I feel very sad that she is deliberately doing harm to herself, and I consider this mustard-seed oil to be harmful. They say it is the most fatty of all Lenten foods. — I wrote Lëva what you wrote about him, and that will comfort him. Yesterday I read Chekhov’s “Chërnyj monakh”.²²² Very well written, but how painful! What a gruesome literary mood it presents! — I also read “Zarnitsa” by Veselitskaja.²²³ Beautifully written, though little in the way of substance so far. But the [overall] tone is noble, and the mood is not gloomy — something to be grateful for, at least! Now I want to read “Life” [Zhizn’] by Potapenko.²²⁴ — I am addressing this letter to Kozlovka already; by tomorrow you all should be at Yasnaya, but it’s annoying that letters are going astray. Berger²²⁵ writes that he did not receive my letter in which I wrote out all my instructions for him clearly.

The Denisenkos²²⁶ came yesterday; they are friendlier to each other and happier than ever. Lenochka looks especially well; his legs still ache with rheumatism. Tomorrow they will be dining with me, along with Lizan’ka,²²⁷ and Masha Maklakova and her husband.²²⁸ They will be staying until the 10th of February, right up to the time that you will be returning from the countryside, and that is upsetting to them.

I am constantly living with the children and not managing to do much else. I take them to the rink, or visiting, or they go shopping with me, or to a dance class. And at home I’m busy with them, reading to them, teaching them conscientiously. I haven’t gone anywhere without them yet, except for three visits. It’s warm all the time here, only just now a light frost has set in, about 2 degrees’ [worth]. The boys watered the rink for Sasha, and had a really fun time. Serëzha’s gone off with Kolja²²⁹ to the Tolstojs’²³⁰ to see Lenochka; the little ones are playing in the salon with Mademoiselle.²³¹ It’s very pleasant having Serëzha here, and I shall miss him a lot when he leaves.

Have you received the parcel of letters from Chern’? Tanja wrote not to send them, but too late, while earlier you asked me to forward them to Grinëvka. Tomorrow I’ll send off another parcel to Yasenki, addressed to Tanja. What a mass of all sorts of useless correspondence!

I wanted to say to you that if things aren’t working out for you intellectually, maybe your work in its present form (I have no idea what you’re writing) is not what you should be working on. Take a pause, have a rest, step back from it, do something else, but don’t fret that it’s not working out. I can see you smiling ironically, but that doesn’t make any difference. It’s so troubling and painful to me that everybody is out of sorts, everyone’s listless and drained of energy. I’m not accustomed to seeing that in you. God grant you bounce back, and if it’s better for you in the countryside, don’t think about me, do what is good for you; only live a reasonable life, [all of you].

Hugs and kisses to you and our daughters. What kind of mood is Tanja in? Masha, apparently, is quite content.

S. Tolstaya.

Nº 171 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/592]
3 February 1894. Yasnaya Polyana.

Dear friend Sonja,

Today at 2 o’clock I rode over to Yasenki to fetch parcels. I took the letter for you from Tanja, to which I added a few words;²³² but I was in a hurry at Yasenki and forgot to hand the letter in; and I remembered it only on my way back, as I was passing a shop; I didn’t feel like going all the way back, and so I gave the letter to a groundskeeper and asked him to hand it in to the post office. He promised he would; but he does not inspire my confidence, and since Ivan Aleksandrovich [Berger] is now heading to Kozlovka, I decided to write you once again. We arrived safely; I was very sorry to leave Sonja²³³ and her [two] children, now that I have come to know and love all three of them, especially Sonja. — I am no longer coughing at all and feel very sprightly again. We’ve settled in here beautifully: I am in Tanja’s room. Tanja is in [our daughter] Masha’s, while Masha and Marija Aleksandrovna [Shmidt] are in the women-servants’ room. They are stoking [the stove in] the vault room, but it’s still only 12º there, and we use it just for meals. I received your letter yesterday²³⁴ as well. Everything is fine with all of you, along with Serëzha’s care for you and the way he is mentoring Andrjusha. — Nothing has a greater influence than the mentoring of a brother. The only bad thing is your sleepless nights. Try to spend more time in the fresh air. Especially during such marvellous days as we’re having right now. In addition to the letters you forwarded, I received at Yasenki two interesting letters: one from [Reverend William] Battersby, along with articles written by various Reverends²³⁵ regarding excerpts from The Kingdom of God which appeared in a certain journal,²³⁶ and the other from a publisher asking for the Russian text from which to produce a third translation and edition.²³⁷ You ask: What am I writing? The same so-called Toulon,²³⁸ in which I have got involved in explaining the issue of ‘patriotism’, and this is very interesting and, I think, new and necessary — i.e. proof of the falsity and harm that comes from this patriotism. You write that in Moscow it is possible to construct a solitude: I desperately desire this and am trying to construct it and be as strict as possible in this. Both girls are completely well. Khokhlov²³⁹ is here, who had come on foot from Moscow to see Mar’ja Aleksandrovna even before we arrived. This was not pleasant. Tomorrow he’ll be off to see Bulygin. Finally, the most interesting news for both me and you about Lëva. I find his letter²⁴⁰ upsetting. His health is still not improving. Whether he’s in Paris rather than Cannes makes no difference. It’s frightening that he’s so far away from us. Let’s wait and hope it all gets better. I wrote him one long letter from Grinëvka.²⁴¹ Farewell, hugs and kisses to you and the children, Serëzha in particular. Regards to Pavel Petrovich²⁴² and Mlle Detraz.

Pëtr Vasil’evich²⁴³ has arrived. He really wanted [the job], saying he was bored. And today he’s drunk.

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki Lane, House Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 172 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 307]
11 May. Evening. 1894. [Moscow]

There are peals of thunder but no rain, it’s hot, and I am languishing after the bath-house, but I still feel like writing to you. We feel orphaned without Lëva and mentally escorted him to Yasnaya with Kolja²⁴⁴ and Andrjusha. At the bank I ran into Dunaev,²⁴⁵ who was very upset that he did not see Lëva prior to his departure. His garden [work] has exhausted him: he gets up at 4 o’clock in the morning, does some watering and replanting, and has even grown thinner from [all] his labour. From the bank I stopped into the Slavjanskij Bazaar hotel²⁴⁶ to take my card to Mr. Crosby²⁴⁷ as a recommendation, as per his request to Papà.²⁴⁸ How did you like Mr. Crosby? I’m ecstatic about him. He’s clever, refined, educated and well-mannered. Add to that his marvellous looks and tremendous seriousness. He showed me pictures of his wife and children.

I went to see Polivanov²⁴⁹ (this should interest Lëva); without the least hesitation he agreed to a re-examination of Misha on his Latin and designated Friday at 1 p.m. But Misha took this quite indifferently and isn’t preparing himself at all — evidently he’s already thoroughly bored by all this! Polivanov asked a lot about Lëva and his affection for him is quite evident; I myself was surprised and I am at pains to repeat the flattering phrases he used to describe Lëva. Among other things he said: ‘I read his article about the Salvation Army followers ²⁵⁰ — how dear that was, after all, how fairly described, clever and well written. He certainly has talent; please let him know my opinion, and tell him that I believe in his future, [that I urge him] not to stop writing — it is definitely his calling.’

In the lycée everything is official, proper and unfriendly. Andrjusha’s²⁵¹ exams are set for the 23rd up to the 28th. On the 29th he will come to Yasnaya.

I was at the house where the Olsuf’evs²⁵² lived, to ask about the German woman. I didn’t find her in, but I saw Neradovskij.²⁵³ Misha²⁵⁴ didn’t leave until Sunday the 8th of May; Mitja is in Saratov. On the 17th everyone’s coming back from abroad.

Neradovskij took me to see the Zubova girls.²⁵⁵ [Their mother] the Countess herself had gone to Petersburg, where [her sister-in-law] Countess Gejden²⁵⁶ had suffered a sudden decease. When the maid entered Countess Gejden’s room in the morning, she found her on her knees on the floor beside the bell-pull, dead. At her head lay a photographic portrait which had fallen off the wall and showed a group of nurses. But how instantaneous her death must have been when her head had not even flinched enough to knock a small, light-weight portrait away from her head. Nevertheless, Ol’ga Zubova’s wedding will go ahead [as planned] on the 10th of June in Moscow. All the Olsuf’evs, the Mejendorfs²⁵⁷ and so forth are coming. They’re even hiring a huge hall for the wedding. — In the evening Vanja Raevskij²⁵⁸ came, as well as Natasha,²⁵⁹ who is staying with me overnight. Her room at the Raevskij’s is being occupied by some ill student with his mother — they live on their premises. Petja²⁶⁰ and Aleksej Mitrofanovich [Novikov], along with Grisha²⁶¹ are sitting and studying assiduously. — Tomorrow I shall spend the morning at Flërov’s,²⁶² and the afternoon at the Rumjantsev Museum,²⁶³ and then my business will be finished. I am waiting for [your] answers to my questions: should I borrow books and, if so, which ones? Should I borrow the Maupassant?²⁶⁴ Should I take 3,000 roubles from a stranger for the poor? Someone will be coming for a reply on Saturday. If you don’t respond by letter, send me a wire. I am glad that you are all healthy and cheerful. This is the most beautiful time [of year] and the weather is marvellous. Girls, take good care of Lëva in my absence, so that he doesn’t have any trouble with bathing [treatment], eating, etc. This is the most opportune time for treatment. Do hire the Gipsy²⁶⁵ to put in a changing-house [by the pond] as soon as possible. I hope that you have started giving Vanechka salt baths. They must be 27º and 2 funts of salt per six pails [of water]. Hugs and kisses to you all; be healthy, cheerful and friendly. —

S. Tolstaya.

Nº 173 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/606]
12 May 1894. Yasnaya Polyana.

I was going to write you a better and longer letter, dear friend Sonja, but it turned out I didn’t get around to it: Crosby²⁶⁶ — I went for a walk with him and got soaked, and feel tired and weak. Yesterday I received your letter. I certainly had nothing left in me the evening you departed;²⁶⁷ I only [wanted] you to have no unkind or gloomy thoughts, which, by the way, are quite natural in your present situation of loneliness and in the city, along with your worry over Andrjusha and Vanechka. We can comfort ourselves knowing it is not for long, and we shall barely have time to look around before we’re together again and living in harmony and thus cheerfully.

Today they brought some timber and placed it in the meadow, in front of the balcony. At first we were all upset and blamed Vasilij Ivanovich,²⁶⁸ but after analysing the situation, I realised there was nowhere else to put it, and here it takes up not much room. Crosby, like all Americans, is decent and far from stupid, though rather superficial. [I guess] the main thing is that I’m tired of speaking English.

Farewell, hugs and kisses to you and the children.

L. T.

On the envelope: Moscow. Khamovniki Lane, Nº 15. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.

Nº 174 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 310]
11 September 1894. [Moscow]

I have not yet once written to you personally, dear Lëvochka, in my letters, but that makes no difference: when I write, I generally think equally about everyone, and am grateful that you are all writing to me, and often. Today there was a letter from Sasha and Tanja, along with a postscript from you about bricks.²⁶⁹ Pity I didn’t know that Ivan Ivanovich Gorbunov²⁷⁰ was going to see you, or I would have sent something with him, or at least written to you. Sasha²⁷¹ wrote me a very nice and interesting letter. I think a lot about you, Lëvochka, all the time; I am happy, of course, that you are cheerful and sprightly, but I am interested in the story you have thought up.²⁷² For some reason it seemed to me from your attitude that it will be genuine — i.e. extremely good. How strange they are, these artistic flashes! Just as a beautiful woman over the years appears less and less beautiful, so artistic beauty sparks forth with increasing rarity and fades more quickly. And that’s too bad: we need to cherish these glimmerings, as we now cherish the rare rays of the sun in the autumn rainy season. I cannot forswear my love for your artistic works; and today I suddenly had the clear realisation that this is because I experienced it during the best years of my life together with you — i.e. simply in my youth. And [our] daughters in their youth are experiencing another side of your literary activity, and will love it above all else.

All these reasonings, perhaps, are unpleasant for you, in which case I’m sorry to have written them; I simply wanted to have a conversation with you.

Despite the constant rain and cloud-covered sky, Lëva seems to have improved — that is, he’s groaning less and is more lively in his talk and walk. He drinks sour milk which Faddeevna²⁷³ prepares very poorly, but is not getting better; he applies compresses to his stomach, and has given up all medication. He doesn’t exercise; today he tried playing the violin a bit.

Manja Rachinskaja²⁷⁴ was here; she brought a large bouquet as well as a small one — of beautiful dahlias. She stayed about two hours, but was tired and sleepy. There was also Aleksej Maklakov,²⁷⁵ Kholevinskaja,²⁷⁶ who gave me an interesting account of the (Nizhnij Novgorod) fair and the women there. Now the children are studying: Lëva is dictating to Pavel Petrovich²⁷⁷ a translation from Coppée.²⁷⁸ Another visitor was Pavel Ivanovich [Birjukov]; he arrived yesterday from Kostroma with Dushan²⁷⁹ and Popov.²⁸⁰ Dushan’s hand is hurting; he cut it and even went to bed. Pavel Ivanovich did a lot of work in the ground, he has a tired and despondent appearance. Things are apparently going differently with you. Sasha writes that it was frosty and clear, while we have had neither frost nor sunshine, but a light rain has been falling, almost constantly.

Today I went to see both headmasters.²⁸¹ Andrjusha needs to take a maths tutor; he will never solve a single problem [on his own]. I asked whether Misha might be allowed to study French at home, but Polivanov refused outright. — I feel very sorry for poor Tanja, over how ill she is; God grant this will not be repeated. — Last night I was with Vera Aleksandrovna,²⁸² she’s staying alone with Lëlja, and was very happy to see me. I wanted to take another sheet of paper, but there’s nothing more to write about. So, until tomorrow then. Write me again, dear friend, some kind of good letter, and not just about tiles. Hugs and kisses to you and my dear daughters, and my little ones, whom I often miss. My respects to Miss Welsh²⁸³ and to the nanny²⁸⁴ with Dunjasha.²⁸⁵

S. Tolstaya.

I’m in Misha’s [room]: he is doing his lessons; I was doing proofreading, and now I am writing letters.

Nº 175 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/618]
18 September 1894. Yasnaya Polyana.

I have not experienced the slightest discomfiture over your writing²⁸⁶ about your reaction to my works and the current reaction of the girls’ as well. I consider that quite legitimate and have only pleasant feelings as I think back to the time of my work in fiction. Now I’ve written out a draft of a rather uninteresting story,²⁸⁷ but it has occupied me for quite a while. I don’t really have any desire to revise it, at least not at the moment. I am constantly digging into my [other] work.²⁸⁸ Why don’t you write anything about Urusov?²⁸⁹ I’m very sorry that I shan’t see him. Give him my very best wishes. After all, we haven’t seen each other for quite a long time. Has he changed? We have postponed a trip to Pirogovo for the time being. But I also want very much to see my brother Serëzha so that he can chew me out. We don’t have too many times left for that. —

I was very glad [to receive] Lëva’s letter.²⁹⁰ Hugs and kisses to him.

L. Tolstoy.

Nº 176 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 312]
27 October 1894. [Moscow]

Your letter, dear friend Lëvochka, greatly comforted me yesterday, especially since yesterday was extremely difficult. Lëva’s enmity towards me is quickly increasing, and is so incomprehensible that nobody could actually find any cause for it. Even what [he might] call [my] bothering [him] with [my] cares and endearments — there is absolutely none of that now. I can’t possibly describe all the details of his nitpicking, but yesterday when I took your letter to him in the annexe, he drove me to tears; I fled, so that he wouldn’t be able to say, on top of everything else, that I was making a scene with him. — Now he’s come [to me], subdued, in a pitiful [state] — he is so caught up in his sufferings, poor thing, that he is no longer sensitive, as he was before, to everything around him. Yesterday he dined not with us, but in the annexe, and told me he [had to] get out of the house, away from me. Now he will take dinner in the annexe, alone once again — [the rest of] us have already had our dinner. — Andrjusha is quite confined to bed; his cuts from his opened abscesses are painful; he cannot sit down, add to that: diarrhœa, for which he was prescribed opium, so as to avoid infectious cuts in his anus.

Misha hasn’t had dinner either; he has a severe cough, and today it’s –10º with a strong north wind.

I’m very much afraid for Lëva — he keeps walking about in this frost.

Did Masha see Vera Petrovna ²⁹¹ on her trip to the country? For some reason I haven’t written to Masha for some time, but I think of her with love, and often picture to myself her tender (as it has seemed lately), animated and even cheerful face — i.e. not listless or unhappy — for which I am always glad. How is Tanja coming along with her mandolin? — Dear Varin’ka²⁹² came by today; she, too, has been ill with severe cramps and diarrhœa, and has been very frightened that she might have a miscarriage; now, [however,] she is healthy [again]. She more than anyone has calmed my fears regarding Limontikha.²⁹³ She says that [Limontikha] has been almost unbearable of late; that she has so repulsively latched on to Serëzha, that Sonja²⁹⁴ even told her about that; that she is a morphine addict, and that she had not four, but eight children; that Serëzha didn’t think about her, but that she was unbearably obtrusive [with him]. — I have been seeing practically no one — I’m too lazy to move — and so I know nothing of what is going on in the world or [even] in our Moscow. Only Pavel Petrovich [Kandidov], the artel worker²⁹⁵ and the nanny²⁹⁶ have shared various preposterous rumours, for example, that Zakhar’in²⁹⁷ has poisoned himself, which means he is guilty of poisoning the Tsar, that the windows in his home have all been smashed. Apart from that, there are rumours from the Raevskijs that Klejn ²⁹⁸ (a Moscow professor) did the post-mortem on the Tsar²⁹⁹ and found precisely what Zakhar’in said: adiposis, or, rather lipomatosis of the heart; the kidneys are not diseased, but only slightly shrivelled. — Today Varin’ka said further that at the university many [students] refused to swear the oath [to the new Tsar] on religious grounds, that they [the university authorities] are trying to hush it up, but evidently these [students] will be expelled. Also someone, I don’t remember who, suggested that you, Lëvochka, wrote some sort of manifesto of your own and read it at Khamovniki. All-in-all, there is some kind of alarming heightening of tension [in the air]; as always, people expect something of a new sovereign, and of course not everybody is going to be calmed down that quickly.

On Saturday they’re expecting the arrival of the [late] Tsar’s body. Troops are stationed everywhere, guards are on duty everywhere — at everybody’s gates, at the churches, palaces — enhanced security. Who are they guarding against? Surely nobody would take it into their head to create any kind of disorder over the deceased’s body, unless such a possibility were planted in thought by these enhanced security measures. — I shall probably not see any of the funeral ceremonies, for [a number of reasons:] laziness, and the fact that I am not in the best of health — my right temple still hurts, as well as my right arm — probably connected with the nerves, too; but mainly I have no energy; all I feel like doing is sitting down, nothing interests or excites me, or gives me joy. — Mightn’t you all have caught cold there at Yasnaya in that biting north wind and frost? Please take care of yourselves, all of you, including Marija Aleksandrovna³⁰⁰ — and don’t take sick.

Lëvochka, maybe I don’t need to tell you this at all, but please don’t write anything about the new Tsar’s reign for the English or American or any other foreign papers. I know all your thoughts and actions are always based on pure Christianity, but now [the press] takes particular delight in finding fault with everything and interpreting it in its own way, and [interpreting] every word you utter in the shallowest [possible] sense (as with Moskovskie novosti). The late Tsar knew you and understood you, I could feel that, but as for this poor fellow, God knows!

I’m very sorry [to hear] that once again you are not satisfied with your work, and that you want to start everything over from scratch.³⁰¹ This must weigh heavily on you. But perhaps God does not want this [kind of work], and that is why you do not feel drawn to it and are unable to finish it. Perhaps your spiritual forces are needed for some other kind of work. It’s good that you are healthy and cheerful; I’ve quite forgotten how to be either [healthy or cheerful] here. Hugs and kisses to you, Tanja and Masha. What about Annushka³⁰² — will she come or not? She may do herself out of a job. Give me an answer on this, as Strakhov has already asked me twice about it. Farewell, dear friend; thank you for comforting me with your words of love, at least in my old age; this is especially precious to me precisely in [my] old age. Without you and the girls I feel very lonely in the world, although Vanechka is so loving and tender, that it is even touching.

Your Sonja Tolstaya.

Nº 177 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 314]
[31] October 1894. [Moscow]

This day has been full of events on the occasion of the removal of the Tsar’s body from Moscow. The children were terribly eager to watch this whole procession, but since nobody knew of the exact day and hour of its departure for Petersburg, there was no clamouring to see it. But various boys gathered here last night: from the Sukhotin,³⁰³ Behrs, Kolokol’tsov and D’jakov [families] and then all at once Dostoevskaja³⁰⁴ arrived with her daughter.³⁰⁵ She stopped by on her way [home] from the Crimæa in the hopes of seeing the whole family together. The mother is very kindhearted and boisterous, while the daughter is quite intellectual, very much like her father; she is well-read and very knowledgeable, lively, something like Rossa Del’vig³⁰⁶ in character. — Anyway, the Dostoevskys found out that the children wanted to see the procession and promised to secure us seats at the Historical Museum.³⁰⁷ — All of a sudden this morning at 7 o’clock [we could hear] the bells ringing. I hear this same young lady³⁰⁸ coming and saying: “Get ready quick, at 10 o’clock they will already be starting to take the body back.” I jumped out of bed, threw on a robe and started waking the children. It was half-past seven by the time everyone was up, the carriage was harnessed in a moment and we left. [The younger] Dostoevskaja took Andrjusha in her carriage, to his great delight, as he was quite attracted to this young lady, and he was in uniform, and with his mourning garb and clean gloves he looked immaculate. But his face had become frightening: yellowed, thin, tormented. His abscesses had passed, but his general condition was still pretty poor. — At the Historical Museum we were allotted a window directly on the Iversky side. Our seats on the scaffolding were very nice and comfy; Dostoevskaja had sent a whole basket of pirozhki³⁰⁹ with hot meat; the children ate [as they] waited, full of anticipation.

Finally the procession came. When the coffin approached, everything stopped at the Iversky [chapel]. An icon draped in black was hoisted onto the porch. There were flowers on the icon, the clergy was [dressed] in white robes, and candles were burning. As soon as everyone had stopped, the young Tsar³¹⁰ climbed up to the porch, knelt down and kissed the icon, and did this twice. The Prince of Wales,³¹¹ corpulent, red-faced, sporting a hat with copious plumage, stood in place and waited. Then the [new] Tsar’s younger brother Mikhail³¹² came up to kiss [the icon]. A thinnish youth just a little taller than the Tsar. The young Tsar is quite lean, even lanky, has an unwholesome look; his face is handsome and timid. I got a splendid look at him. He was wearing a simple grey coat and a sheepskin cap. His hair is rather dark. No women or girls were to be seen. The Tsarina,³¹³ as well as the Tsar’s fiancée³¹⁴ and everyone [else], rode in funereal carriages and did not show themselves.

After the procession had passed, the Dostoevskys led us to the Dostoevsky Museum. A small, very bright, octagonal-shaped room [within the Historical Museum] with bookshelves, many busts, portraits and manuscripts along with Dostoevsky paraphernalia. Such a cheerful, neat and nice corner devoted to him, and his wife is constantly bringing and contributing new letters, papers, etc.

We went home to have breakfast. It was warm outside; the sun kept peeping in and out. Lëva came, and we told him all [about the procession], but he treated us with irony and said that what was important was not our stories, but that [students] at the university had refused to swear an oath [to the new Tsar], that there was a protest meeting at Devich’e Pole, that more than a hundred students had been arrested, and that the university was closed for three days. — However, I saw in this not a kind of movement, but simply half-drunk boys rebelling without cause. [Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy’s nephew] Kolja Obolenskij is of the same opinion.

At two o’clock I took the horse-tram to the Devichij Nunnery³¹⁵. I had read in the papers that all monasteries and nunneries would be providing dinners for the poor for two days, and that interested me. As I approached the monastery I was struck, as usual, by the vast expanse of space — the fields, river, forest and empty space. From the tram stop I went on foot to the gates of the nunnery. I saw a huge crowd of all sorts of women — with nurslings and little ones, old women, poor women, cheerful and even fancily dressed maidens in red shawls, others in rags. Indeed, it was a crowd of people such as you might see waiting at night-time shelters, but this one was made up only of women. The gatekeeper was letting them through the gates approximately two hundred or more at a time, making a rough count as they entered. At first they were admitted to the monastery courtyard, and then right into the low stone church, where the dinner was held. I was asked who I was, and I was admitted, even with respect. They might have suspected that I was sent to observe. In the low church there were long, long tables set with white tablecloths, and benches just as long. To one side there was a table stacked with pies and bread, pots of cabbage soup and cups with kissel.³¹⁶ Young novices ran around carrying baskets (the size of laundry baskets) filled with bread and large, beautiful cabbage pies made with white flour. Everything was served in the proper order. First of all, spoons were given out to everyone. Before eating, everyone rose, and the priest, along with a choir of nuns, read a requiem for Tsar Alexander III — “may he rest with the saints”, “in eternal memory”. The Mother Provisor handed out copper coins, as well as 5 kopeks³¹⁷ each in the name of the Mother Superior. Then they served a glass of beer or mead to everyone. Everything was done quietly and in order, without a sound from the crowd. On the right there was a separate table just for the children. [It seemed] the children were having a more jolly time, and were especially happy to have kissel with milk. In the corner a young nun was reading, breaking the silence with a loud and distinct rendition, in a high soprano voice, of one of the Lives of Saints³¹⁸ — it was the Life of St-Isidore,³¹⁹ I think. After the plates were taken away, once again prayers were read. Everyone rose and thanked the two elderly nuns, who kissed each woman in turn, saying: “Now you are full, thank God, and may God be with you” and so forth. The women crossed themselves, gave thanks once again and went out through a gate, and through a different gate the next lot of two hundred women were admitted. Everyone was in a hurry, they pushed each other and climbed over each other in the gateway. I chatted with the nuns, and one of them, about fifty years old, cried whenever I asked her about anything, and kept repeating: “My heart has turned to stone, I have so many sins, and oh, my sins lie heavy on me. I’ve been praying for thirty years, and I shall never pray them all away, my heart has turned to stone!”

I went home for dinner, again taking the tram; Sulerzhitskij³²⁰ arrived; again I recounted everything to him and Lëva. For some reason L’vov was angered by Suller and had expelled him from the school. An uproar ensued, they wanted to attack both L’vov and the glass [windows]. Some students [from other institutions] came to them, i.e. to the pupils of Mjas-nits-kaja School; the students offered to help them protest. I promised Suller I would go to see L’vov tomorrow and intercede on his behalf. I asked him to quickly inform his colleagues about this and stop the unrest. Suller himself did not want any protest; he promised to stop his colleagues and wait [to hear] what L’vov would say to me. Now a lot depends on [the success of] my diplomatic eloquence with L’vov. Suller was punished for somehow arbitrarily changing some kind of background. Farewell. Misha Sukhotin³²¹ and Ekaterina Ivanovna³²² have arrived. Everybody’s healthy here, everything is as it was before. Hugs and kisses to all of you.

S. Tolstaya.

Nº 178 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/633]
26 April 1895. Moscow.

Today we received a brief letter³²³ from Il’ja, saying that you have all safely reached Orël. — We are counting the hours down to your arrival in Kiev.³²⁴

I hope, Sonja my dove, that this trip will be very good for you. We have to live, dear friend, if God commands, and if we are to live, then we should live as well as possible, the way He wishes us to. You asked Him, I know, sincerely and fervently, to show you how, and He will certainly show you. A change of place and travel have always had an effect on me, giving rise to new views on things and a new order of thoughts and intents, and increased my liveliness. I am confident that they will have the same effect on you.

Yesterday, the day of your departure, the following happened — seemingly an insignificant event, but one which greatly touched me, almost the same way as [the incident with] Andrjusha’s teeth,³²⁵ which still makes me smile. After breakfast I went into Tanja’s room. There was Manja.³²⁶ I thought she was in the process of getting dressed, so I excused myself and was about to shut the door. “No, you’re not in the way,” she said, and at this point an embarrassed Serëzha stepped away from the wall; he, too, declared that I was not bothering them. They both looked so embarrassed that I was sure [Serëzha had proposed], but unfortunately, when I went back to see them after my bicycle ride, Serëzha told me that she would be leaving today, and when I enquired about what had happened [between him] and Manja, he said it was a ticklish conversation. Today she left for England. Tanja went to have dinner with her and see her off. Znamenskij³²⁷ told Andrjusha that two teeth [needed to be] implanted, and now the roots must be protected. I don’t remember the details of what he plans to do; it seems he will be going to see Iljusha.

I took dinner just with Kolja³²⁸ and Dunaev,³²⁹ who came to the Manège. After dinner I went with [our daughter] Sasha to [my brother] Sergej Nikolaevich’s and to Vygodchikov’s³³⁰ for honey. Sergej Nikolaevich was in very low spirits and not dressed to go out. I wanted very much to help them, but I don’t know how. In any case I shall try. Tanja and Misha went to see them. Sasha is sleeping. I’m home alone. — My mental state is far from active, but it’s not bad. I think of you with love and pity. Masha should come home all pink and plump. Hugs and kisses to her, Vera³³¹ and all the Kuzminskijs. I am very grateful to [your sister] Tanja for coming and taking you off [to Kiev]. I forgot to tell her. — Tanja [our daughter] has now arrived from the Tolstojs;³³² she says Uncle Serëzha is very irritated. How sorry I feel for him!

L. T.

On the envelope: Kiev. Shuljavskaja 9. S. A. Tolstaya c/o Tat’jana Andreevna Kuzminskaja.

Nº 179 – SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY
[LSA 317]
26 April 1895. Kiev.

Dear friend Lëvochka, I am constantly haunted by the feeling as to why I left you and all of you and my precious memories of Vanechka, and sometimes I feel like hurrying back home at once. But my sister Tanja, and Sasha, and Vera, and the boys are so solicitous, taking such good care of me, so tenderly attentive to my sorrows, that I cannot help but feel comforted and grateful the whole time. Masha, of course, would be frightfully upset if I were to leave soon. Nevertheless, we are leaving on Sunday, and with the express train we shall be in Moscow on Monday, if nothing changes either with you or with us. I never stop thinking of you, or Tanja, or Andrjusha’s teeth, or Sasha’s fingers, or Misha’s exam. With a frightened soul I am afraid of everything and await whatever comes from Fate. My health, it seems, is improving; this evening Sasha persuaded us to visit the Botanical Gardens. This has made the best impression [I’ve had] to date: a huge garden, all in the mountains, allées [lined with] chestnut trees, a whole garden with young green [leafage], not yet shady, and nightingales in every corner. Of course, all this beauty and joy of vernal Nature has called forth, like everything [else] these days, [only] despair and tears. I feel sorry for [my sister] Tanja, who all the time weeps with me; I try to hold back, and go out to the little garden with Mitja.³³³ I feel sorry for Sasha, but I am no longer in control of myself, and no circumstance in the world, I realise clearly now, will either cure or even relieve my sorrow.

Masha runs around everywhere, excited. Today she visited the Lavra³³⁴ and admired the Dnieper, which now makes almost the same impression as the Volga; but Masha says that even last night she broke out in a sweat and experienced a feverish state. I hope it will pass by Monday. Vera³³⁵ is travelling with us to Moscow, which will make the trip a lot easier; she is cheerful and compassionate, and has greatly matured. Mitja keeps asking me about Vanechka, caresses me, takes me by the hand and looks out for me. When I tell him about Vanechka, he keeps responding: “yes, yes” and sighs. He venerates Vanechka’s memory. Today we bought a frame, a little vase and fresh violets; we put a card with Vanechka’s [picture] into the frame and put the violets in front of it on Mitja’s desk. And yesterday I gave him Vanechka’s little bronze dog, and when he went to bed, he put this little dog on the pillow beside him, and covered it with a small cloth. He and I sit around a lot and reminisce about happier times. — I still feel myself weak, but of course my body is recovering, but not my soul. God might at least give me less suffering [to deal with]! There hasn’t been any letter from you yet, but there couldn’t be. How are you doing, dear Lëvochka? How is [our daughter] Tanja, and what kind of mental state is she in? How sorry I am for all of you, that you are not able to enjoy such a garden, nightingales and freshness of air and nature as we have been enjoying [here] this evening! I realise how good it is to live here with these gardens, the Dnieper and the warm climate. Huge and tender hugs to all of you. Have Manja and Vera³³⁶ gone to England? Has there been no news from Lëva?³³⁷ A lot can happen in a week; after all, Vanechka was taken away in two days! Well, farewell, my friend. Do not forget me.

S. Tolstaya.

Nº 180 – LEV NIKOLAEVICH TOLSTOY SOFIA ANDREEVNA TOLSTAYA
[PSS 84/637]
3 October 1895. Yasnaya Polyana.

The other day Tanja wrote you³³⁸ and yesterday I wanted to write you, but missed the [postal collection] time; today I definitely want to communicate with you, dear friend. I hope [this letter] will reach you in your challenging solitude in Tver’.³³⁹ Everybody’s healthy here. I did have some sort of fever, resulting in a rash on my lip, and for two days after you left I wasn’t myself, but today I’m completely back to normal. Vera and Sasha have gone to Tula and we are expecting them back at any moment ([it’s] 3 o’clock). Today Il’ja arrived. Sonja³⁴⁰ is concerned about Andrej³⁴¹ and is taking him to see Rudnev.³⁴² Tomorrow she’ll be in Tula. Sultan [the horse] is lying with [paralysed] legs in the apple [storage] tent and dying a natural death.

That’s all about us. I constantly think of you. How hard and lonely and alarming it must be for you in Tver’! I can recommend only one thing to you — something I recommend to myself in difficult and challenging moments: Fais ce que doit, advienne que pourra.³⁴³ If you have done what you consider your duty and what you are able to do, you can demand nothing more of yourself, and then all you need do is calm down, rest and pray. There is a state in which you feel that you can’t do anything further of substance, that any attempt to continue to work in such a state of fatigue, bustle or irritation will only hurt your cause instead of advancing it. And then you must stop, not get flustered, and rest. In order not to be anxious, you need to pray. You know this, because you yourself are praying right now. Only I prefer praying not from a book, not with somebody else’s words, but with my own. Prayer I consider to be thinking about one’s situation not in the context of any earthly events, but in the sight of God and death, i.e. the transition toward Him or into another of His realms. This greatly calms and supports me when I vividly realise and admit that I am here only for a time and to carry out some task that is required of me. If here I carry out this task according to my own abilities, then what unpleasant situation can await me, either here or hereafter? I know that for you the chief sorrow is your parting from Vanechka. But even here [you can] still [find] the same salvation and comfort: by drawing nigh to God, and through God to him. It is through this that in our sorrow of losses and deaths we turn to God, that we feel that our connection with them is only through Him. I write, saying that I think of you. I fear for your state of alarm in your loneliness and I say what I think may [help you] calm down. Hugs and kisses to Andrjusha. God help him find the way that brings him closer to Him. Mainly, let him have pity on and preserve his immortal, Divine soul, and not becloud it. Tender hugs and kisses to you.

Sasha and Vera have just arrived [home from Tula].

L. T.

On the envelope: City of Tver’. Hotel Evropejskaja. Countess Sofia Andreevna Tolstaya.