That is all that I saw from Guzik. I treated this with a cool curiosity. But poor Mikhail Ivanovich could not part with the insane hope of corporeally seeing, hearing, and sensing his deceased wife and imagined that Guzik would somehow link him with Lida. He insistently pleaded with the impresario and reiterated sadly and incoherently:
“You say this is Wilhelm? Can’t you ask him to leave? Send someone else . . . The one we want . . .”
“We can’t today. The seance is ended. The medium is already awakening.”
Truly, one could hear how the rhythm of his breathing was changing, that Guzik was moving. During the seance he was completely motionless. The light was turned on. The medium was sitting and pale. The look of his strange eyes had become even more grim. All of this was unusual and extremely interesting for me. But why link the tinkling of the spoon and the shaggy strokes with the souls of the departed? I could not understand how Mikhail Ivanovich found solace in these disconnected phenomena. But I pitied him all the more! Involvement in spiritualism ended shortly. Tugan and I were arrested for participating in a street demonstration. He was sent out of St. Petersburg, though not for long.
Nikolai Volkov-Muromtsev, Memoirs
Nikolai Volkov-Muromtsev was born in 1902 to a family of the nobility and gentry. The family lived on its estate, a productive grain and dairy farm near Viaz’ma, a city of 30,000 east of Smolensk. Young Nikolai was tutored in French and English and had in-laws who were members of the English upper classes. The choice of the three segments from his memoirs is not accidental. His ability to combine family and personal narrative with the tumultuous historical background is keenly apparent. He writes with pithiness and clarity. The evocation of life whether in the city or on the country estate carries the stamp of unforced authenticity. Rarely in memoir literature do we see a description of a city, Viaz’ma in this case, done so affectionately and informatively. Taken from Nikolai Volkov-Muromtsev,
VIAZ’MA: THE TEXTURE OF A CITY
Viaz’ma had a population of 35,000. It was the center of the linen industry and had three leather and two match factories. The streets were cobblestoned and only the rich merchants paved in front of their homes with other materials, be it asphalt or wooden blocks. The Viaz’ma merchants were exceptional. Nowhere in Russia, I believe, was there such a congregation of old merchant families. In 1478 Ivan III conquered Novgorod, but the Novgorodians did not calm down. There were many other campaigns under Vasilii III and Ivan the Terrible. After one of these campaigns, the Muscovites decided that Novgorod would never be pacified while the old merchant class remained there. So they dispatched the merchants to Viaz’ma. It was enough to look at a list
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of Viaz’ma merchants to recall ancient Novgorod—Stroganov, Kalashnikov, Liutov, Sinel’nikov, Ershov, Kolesnikov, El’chaninov, etc. These families did not sit long in Viaz’ma with their hands folded. They became rich anew trading in linen and leather with the Hansa cities.
The major Viaz’ma merchants became linen czars. This was strange because the best flax grew in the light sandy soil of the Pskov, Novgorod, and Tver provinces. Smolensk had loamy soil, and the flax was coarser. But it was brought in from everywhere, and Viaz’ma became not only a Russian, but a European linen exchange.
The leather factories stretched out one after the other on a bend of the Vi-az’ma River. They stank horribly but people were used to it and seemed not to notice. From the river one could see huge piles of sandal shavings that looked like red pyramids.
Beyond the Smolensk gate stood two match factories, the El’chaninov and the Sinel’nikov. They were very different. The El’chaninov plant was in the “latest style.” It was rebuilt several years before the war and looked like a huge glass greenhouse. All the machinery was new with half being automated. Inside one heard the quiet hum of electric motors, central heating was everywhere, and the workers wore white coats as in a hospital. Around the factory was a new settlement for workers with small individual houses set in gardens.
Nearby, the Sinel’nikov match factory looked like a barracks. Assorted lumber and odd carts were sloppily strewn about. Everything was untidy. The workers lived in the city in no set location.
The El’chaninov matches were packaged in elegant raspberry colored boxes, 2 x 2 inches and less than half- an-inch thick. “El’chaninov Factory. 48 Matches” was stamped on them. The Sinel’nikov matches came in the simplest boxes. Incomprehensibly, Sinel’nikov workers were very proud of their factory, did not complain of their fate; management was always friendly. But El’chaninov’s workers were always whining.
The linen and leather merchants were very rich. Their presence was very beneficial for the town. The merchants competed against each other as to who would excel in charity. Mikhail Ivanovich Liutov built one of the finest hospitals in Russia, Stroganov built schools, and Sinel’nikov equipped the fire department. When my mother undertook the creation of the Viaz’ma library, all the merchants wanted to build it so it would carry their name. Only after having purchased the land, and with great difficulty, was my mother able to convince the merchants to build the library jointly and to stock it. The merchants of Viaz’ma were not only rich but generous, a type of people common in Russia.
The Liutov hospital stood between the city and the railroad station. Liutov hired a superb architect for it and obtained the newest medical equipment
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from Switzerland. The wards and operating rooms had rounded corners so that dust would not collect there. He brought in Italian experts for the special floors. The walls were tiled. Needless to say, Liutov procured the best doctors and nurses.
In the market square there was a one-story building called the “Trading Row.” This was an arcade with a covered passageway and shops in the interior. All kinds of merchants and storekeepers had businesses there. All of these merchants were either manufacturers or curriers, but they sat in their shops daily even though they had nothing to do with linen or leather. They sold necessities. The stores had boots, axes, scythes, harnesses, matting, hammers, nails, tar. There were barrels of herring, pickles, and all kinds of other things. The shops belonging to Stroganov and Kalashnikov were next to each other. One of the Stroganov brothers always sat on a barrel in front of his shop and played cards with Kalashnikov, also on a barrel instead of a table. You would arrive there and be greeted with a “What do you need?” “I need some nails.” “Go find some nails for yourself, whichever you need. The smaller ones are in the boxes. Let me know later what you took.” People walked around in the shops on their own. They took what they needed, tried on the boots without the owners even watching. In the Russia of those days, it was possible to conduct business in this fashion. Evidently, people were honest.
The eldest Stroganov brother, who was repeatedly elected mayor, was superbly educated and a natural scientist with a European reputation. He held honorary degrees from the universities of Edinburgh and London, and had doctorates from the universities of Heidelberg and Leipzig.
