shadow of britain

Chapter 668 Big News in Moscow

Since his arrest, Herzen was first detained in the Plechisin Police Station in Moscow. Although sleeping in the office was not a very comfortable treatment, it was at least more comfortable than being detained at the Moscow Police Headquarters and the Interrogation Committee on Tverskaya Boulevard.

At the Plechischin police station, they did not allow Herzen to read the books he wanted. The police chief repeatedly emphasized to Herzen that it was not allowed to send books from home.

However, due to Herzen's family background, the police chief did not dare to be too harsh on the young man.

Because he knew clearly that if he dared to humiliate Herzen as he humiliated the small shopkeepers and peasants, he would inevitably provoke a swift counterattack from the young man.

For an eighth-rank official like the Police Chief, even a political prisoner who has become a prisoner is not someone they can easily afford to offend.

As for why?
Look at Mikhail Mikhailovich Speransky, my friend!
In 1812, Speransky was exiled by Emperor Alexander I because of his failure to implement reforms and was purged by the opposition.

At that time, rumors were circulating in the streets and alleys of Russia that Speransky was a man loyal to French policy and a man who idolized Napoleon. The reason he wanted to emulate the French was to shake the foundation of the country. He was a spy arranged by Napoleon in Russia, intending to control Russia by controlling the Tsar, and so on.

Therefore, when the news of Speransky's exile first came out, Petersburg and Moscow were full of jubilation, and the nobles and landowners held banquets to celebrate Speransky's exile. Some people even thought that the punishment of exile was too light, and the emperor should chop off the head of this French spy.

No matter from what angle, any intelligent person would think that Speransky's life was over.

But if you really treat this Russian reformer as a prisoner, you will regret it.

Because four years later, Speransky was reinstated by the Tsar as Governor-General of Western Siberia.

In another five years, he will be recalled from exile and ordered back to Beijing to be re-elected to the State Council.

When the new emperor ascended the throne in 1826, Speransky was immediately appointed by Nicholas I as the second chairman of the Tsar's Imperial Chamber.

Smart people know that there is no such thing as a phoenix without its feathers plucked is worse than a chicken in Russia.

Phoenixes are phoenixes after all, and chickens cannot give them orders at will.

There is no benefit in continually offending them, and there is even the possibility of retaliation in the future.

Therefore, although according to the regulations, they could not allow Herzen to send servants to deliver books to him from home, the police chief could adopt Arthur's suggestion - if the prisoner's request was flatly rejected, it would destroy the harmonious relationship between the two parties and lead to the failure of the interrogation. When dealing with young people, playing the role of a caring father or brother is easier to open their hearts. If they make requests that cannot be met, the interrogator should refuse, but at the same time he should also give him some unimportant benefits as comfort.

Therefore, although Herzen did not get the book he wanted, the chief of police made an exception and allowed Herzen to read science books or grammar books. However, he also reminded Herzen appropriately: "If you want to read other books, you have to ask the chief (Moscow Police Chief Ziensky)."

Although it may sound silly to look up words in a dictionary to relieve boredom, it is better to have a dictionary than to sit there doing nothing every day.

Herzen paid two ten-ruble notes for an Italian grammar.

When he asked the police chief where the remaining money from the book purchase had gone, the man cheekily replied: "You have to understand that we took a risk, too."

Apart from the book-buying issue, life at the Plechischin police station was generally acceptable.

They allowed Herzen to not eat the meals provided by the institute, but instead have meals delivered to him from home.

Of course, the prerequisite is that the daily food allowance of 2 rubles must still be paid.

Every day at mealtime, Herzen's servants would hand the meals to the sergeant on duty outside, and the sergeant would then send a soldier to deliver the meals to Herzen.

In addition to food, half a bottle to a bottle of wine is allowed per day.

The parents, who were worried about their son's arrest, took the opportunity to send a bottle of 1816 Johannesburg directly to Herzen.

The cooks and others who were responsible for preparing meals would always fill the food basket to the brim, as they were all afraid that he would never have the chance to eat and drink well again in his life.

However, these good days took a sharp turn for the worse after Herzen was transferred to the interrogation committee two days ago.

The only kindness Herzen felt at the interrogation committee was brought to him by a fat, honest-looking police officer with a briefcase when he first stepped into the committee.

"I see, you are here in connection with the case of Ogarev and the other young men who have recently been arrested?"

"I overheard it by accident," continued the fat inspector. "This case is so strange that I don't understand it at all."

"I spent two weeks in jail for this case, and I not only didn't understand anything, I knew absolutely nothing."

"That's better." The fat police officer looked at Herzen attentively. "It's better if you know nothing. Excuse me, this is my advice to you. You are still young and full of blood. It's the worst if you want to talk. Don't forget that you know nothing. This is the only way to be saved."

This was the second time Herzen had heard this sentence recently. Perhaps because of the commonalities among police officers, the advice the fat officer gave Herzen was exactly the same as Arthur's.

But why should the fat police officer help him like Sir Arthur did?

Herzen's doubts did not last long.

The fat police officer picked up his briefcase and stood up. "Don't be surprised. I was also a student at Moscow University twelve years ago."

Then, an official came into the room. As the superior, the fat man gave a few instructions and left. Before leaving, he nodded to Herzen cordially and pressed his finger to his lips, suggesting that he should not say anything. After that, all Herzen felt was the cold malice like the winter wind.

"Only a confession can earn you leniency. Whether you'll be acquitted or sent to Bobruisk or the Caucasus - that's up to you." This was the threat from Chief of Police Ziensky.

"It is a sin not to tell the truth in front of officials appointed by the Tsar, and it is also disadvantageous to you to conceal the truth. You must know that God is omnipresent and omniscient." This was the interrogation words given by Prince Dmitry Golitsyn, the Governor-General of Moscow, after he made him swear an oath in front of the cross.

"It will do you no good to keep silent. It will only increase your guilt. To tell you the truth, your friends, the young men headed by Ogarev, have already confessed. By the way, His Majesty the Tsar is planning to come to Moscow in person. For the sake of your father, if you admit your mistake now, I will consider putting your name at the top of the repentance list and give you a chance to redeem yourself." said Volkov, the gendarmerie commander who had sent many of Herzen's classmates to serve in the Caucasus.

But for Herzen, these interrogations were not the most difficult.

In the interrogation committee, even when I was asleep, I was filled with reports of interrogations, denunciations, and house-to-house searches. Behind the whispers were the plots of the Moscow police, the groans and sighs of the prisoners, the clash of the spurs of the gendarmes and the sabers of the Ural Cossacks...

The Moscow night was wrapped in a rusty cold air, and the oil lamp on the desk in the detention room cast a distorted shadow on the wall.

Herzen wrapped himself tightly in the tweed blanket, staring blankly at the charcoal brazier in the room. All he could hear was the sound of spurs hitting the stone slabs at the end of the corridor. The quiet yet noisy environment and his heavy thoughts mixed together, making it impossible for him to fall asleep.

With a creaky sound, Officer Ralph, who was in charge of guarding Herzen, pushed open the door, bringing in a scent of cedar.

He took advantage of the soldiers patrolling at the porch not paying attention and squeezed into the cell with a hunched back. The wall dust from his sheepskin coat fell on the bread crumbs.

Ralph took off his frosted cocked hat, revealing a red nose that was frozen red, like a plucked goose head in a market.

The guard, who always covered half of his face with a scarf, placed the tin kettle on the charcoal basin with familiarity, and the copper key chain at his waist jingled.

The way he squatted and fiddled with the charcoal always reminded Herzen of the fishermen on the Moscow River - those silent figures waiting in front of the ice holes for trout to bite the hook.

Herzen turned over, sat up and stretched himself. "Are you here to warm yourself by the fire again?"

"Don't mind me, old man. It's damn cold, isn't it?" Ralph muttered. "It's been a month since Maslenitsa, and look at Moscow. There's no sign of spring anywhere."

"Who's on duty tonight? Shubinsky?"

Ralph waved his ginger-like palms and said, "Don't worry, none of the big shots are here. Otherwise, how could I dare to come here and talk with you?"

"Lie chat?" Herzen couldn't help laughing. "Where did you learn such an elegant word? If you didn't know, you would be thought to be a Roman nobleman."

The tin kettle in the charcoal brazier began to hiss. Ralph took out a stoneware cup from his coat pocket and poured cheap tea mixed with pine needles into it. "Roman noble? I don't want to be a noble. At least not for the next two days."

Herzen was quite surprised when he heard this and praised: "I didn't expect you to be such an ambitious person."

Ralph sipped the scalding hot tea, the sound like frosted glass scraping against stone slabs: "Ambition? Well... I dare not have any ambition these two days. Oh, by the way, I almost forgot, you still don't know the news from the Kremlin? This morning, there is a lot of drama outside the red wall."

"Did something happen?"

Ralph fished a dusty lump of sugar from his trouser pocket and held it on a chipped saucer to Herzen. "When the Tsar's sleigh rolled across Red Square this morning, ice flew under the Golden Gate. Prince Golitsyn's red beard was covered with frost, but he didn't dare to raise his hand to wipe it—the Emperor was staring at him like a Siberian wolf at a lame elk."

Ralph stretched his frozen fingers to the charcoal basin and exhaled white mist mixed with the smell of cheap tobacco. "Our general secretary, Master Ziensky, stood in the snow outside the palace gate like an icicle, with gold buttons frozen to his woolen coat and icicles hanging from his beard. He looked like a straw puppet at Maslenitsa. He stood like this for several hours under the red wall. Finally, the emperor sent an order to summon them in. They thought they were finally forgiven this time, but when they entered the palace, they found the emperor sitting on the golden throne with a face as pale as a garlic head."

Here Ralph began to imitate the bosses' commanding manner, imitating the Tsar's tone: "The Tsar said, 'My officials! Their heads are filled with swill from the Moscow sewers!' Now, the clerks were so frightened that their parchments rustled and the ministers' wigs slipped down to their necks! It was like a canary pecking through a satin pillow, and the master's dignity fell into the dung pit."

Herzen heard Ralph's rhyme and asked back with a suppressed smile: "It's only been a while since we last met, and you have become a writer. But don't be too happy too soon. They were scolded in front of the emperor, and they will have to vent their anger on the heads of their subordinates."

"You're saying that," Ralph said nonchalantly. "As if they'd always treat us well? This time, every one of those Moscow gentlemen has made a fool of themselves. The fifth-rank officials might even be feeling pretty proud of themselves, after all, those below the fifth rank don't even have the right to go to the Kremlin and be scolded."

Outside the window came the sound of the night watchman's clapper. Ralph suddenly lowered his voice and leaned forward with his greasy face to say, "The Emperor cursed Moscow from top to bottom, and all the masters hung their heads like chicks. But the Englishman invited by the Emperor was at ease. I heard that he was drinking oatmeal porridge beside him as if it were imperial mead. After His Majesty finished cursing, he turned around as if he felt it was not decent, so he turned around and joked with him about the English feeding oats to horses. In the end, guess what the foreign devil said?"

Herzen had already guessed the identity of the Englishman. He asked, "What did he reply?"

Ralph replied in a strange Russian accent, imitating English: "Thanks to your Majesty, all the horses in London have learned to use silver spoons nowadays!"

There was a sudden loud bang of a door closing at the end of the corridor.

Ralph jerked his neck back and reflexively seized his baton, his boots leaving wet prints on the tiles.

When the noise died down, he spat and continued, "If you ask me, these masters with golden threads should have had a taste of the northwest wind a long time ago. When they withheld the firewood money from the police station last winter, no one was frozen into an ice sculpture!"

Herzen followed suit and cursed: "Who says it's not true? The Land and Resources Department is the same."

The morning prayer bell rang through the icicles on the iron window. Turning his head, Ralph stood up and stamped his feet. Snow flakes fell off his leather boots. He had a gloating smile on his face: "The best is yet to come. Your Majesty will send all the freeloaders away, leaving only the foreign monk to watch them make a fool of themselves! From Tverskaya Street to Arbat Street, every tavern is saying that our governor is going to Yakutsk to take care of the bear cubs!"

Herzen wanted to laugh but was afraid that laughing too loudly would attract the gendarmes. After a long pause, he asked, "What if they are all sent away? What will happen to my case?"

Ralph poked the charcoal with tongs. "I'd say your case will be delayed. Don't you see? There are three or four fires every night now. Moscow is like a demon this year, with fires everywhere and bustling every night. The emperor went to the theater tonight and was almost killed by a fire. Don't you see that we don't even have a duty officer tonight? They are all rushing to investigate the case. How can they take care of you now?"

(End of this chapter)