The Posthumous Papers of the Hermit, Fedor Kusmich
There were strange tales about the old hermit, Fedor Kusmich, who appeared in Siberia in the year 1836, and lived there in various places during the space of twenty-seven years. Even before he died it used to be said of him that he concealed his indentity—that he was no other than the Emperor Alexander I, but after his death these tales spread and came to be more firmly believed. That he positively was Alexander I was considered a fact not only among the commoner people, but also in the highest circles; and even in the royal family in Alexander III’s lifetime. It was also believed by the learned historian, Shilder, who wrote a history of his reign.
The incidents which gave rise to these rumours were, firstly, that the Emperor died quite suddenly without any serious illness; secondly, that it happened away from everybody in the obscure town of Vaganrog; thirdly, it was declared by those who had chanced to see him in his coffin that he had changed to such an extent as to be hardly recognisable, and was in consequence kept covered and not shown to anyone; fourthly, he was known to have both said and written a great many times, especially in his later years, that he desired nothing better than to give up his throne and retire from the world. A fifth circumstance, about which very little is known, is the fact that in the official record describing his body, it was stated that the whole of his back was covered with black and blue marks, a thing hardly credible on the Emperor’s delicate skin.
The reasons why Kusmich in particular was believed to be the Emperor in hiding, were first of all, that in height, build, and appearance he was so much like the monarch. Everybody (even the palace servants) who had seen Alexander I and his portraits, was struck by the great resemblance between him and the old man, both in regard to age and the characteristic stoop. Secondly, although Kusmich passed as a nameless tramp, he was nevertheless familiar with foreign languages, and in his bearing there was a certain majestic courtesy betokening a man accustomed to the highest position. Thirdly, he never revealed his identity to anyone, but from certain expressions that escaped him unawares, it could plainly be seen that he was a man who had once ranked high above others. Fourthly, he had destroyed all his papers, of which but one page remained, bearing a mysterious sign and the initials A. P. Lastly, in spite of his great piety, the old man never went to confession. When the bishop, during his visit, tried to induce him to fulfil this duty which was enjoined by the Church, Kusmich said, “If I refrained from telling the truth about myself in confession, I should astonish all in heaven; if I disclosed who I was, I should astonish all on earth.”
All these doubts and conjectures were cleared up by the discovery of the old man’s diary, which begins as follows:—
I
God bless my dearest friend, Ivan Gregorievich, for this delightful retreat. I am not worthy of his kindness, nor of God’s mercy. Here I am at peace. There are less people to disturb me, and I am left alone with the recollections of my past wickedness and with my Maker. I will take advantage of this solitude to relate the whole story of my life. It may prove a warning to others.
For forty-seven years I lived amidst the most terrible temptations, and not only made no attempt to resist them, but abandoned myself to them—I sinned and made others sin. At last the Lord had mercy on me. The loathsomeness of my life was revealed to me in all its horrors, and He delivered me from evil; if not wholly, at any rate from active participation in it. What inner anguish I went through, and what took place in my soul when I realised my transgressions and felt the need of atonement, not merely by faith but by deeds and by suffering, I will relate in due course. I will now describe the way in which I escaped from my position, leaving in my place the corpse of a soldier, who had been tortured to death in my name, and then proceed to relate my whole story from the very beginning.
It happened like this: In Vaganrog I continued the same life of dissipation I had been leading for the past twenty-four years. I am the greatest of all criminals. I