The next issue of The Bell, No. 198, will appear on June 15. The price is fifty centimes. Booksellers outside of Russia have no right to raise the price.10
Notes
Source: "Nashim chitateliam," Kolokol, l. 197, May 25, 1865; 18:386-89, 637-40.
A river on the Kamchatka Peninsula in the Russian Far East.
This quote is a paraphrase of what Herzen wrote publicly to the tsar in 1855; see Doc. 5 in this collection.
Alexander II signed an order ending corporal punishment on April 17, 1863, but significant exceptions were made for peasants condemned by their local courts, for soldiers in disciplinary battalions, and repeat offenders in exile and at hard labor.
On November 20, 1864, the new judicial system was signed into law by Alexander II after two years of discussion.
"Temporary Rules on the Press" were published April 6, 1865, which were in effect until the Revolution of 1905. Preliminary censorship was waived for certain publications not intended for a mass readership, but since the penalties for anticipating incorrectly the reaction of the authorities were high, Herzen saw this as yet another unsatisfying reform.
Alexander lifted some restrictions in 1855, and in August 1864 an order was issued which allowed freedom in matters of faith for the "less harmful sects," setting up a commission, which worked very slowly. Herzen and Ogaryov cultivated the Old Believers as a source of anti-government sentiment, but were for the most part disappointed in the response.
For lack of a better alternative.
General Alexander L. Potapov (1818-1876), police chief of Moscow and then director of the Third Department.
Herzen: "Such works demand a lot of time and reference works, and not everyone can work for free. We invite those who wish to be paid for articles placed in The Bell or The Polestar to write to us on this subject."
Herzen lists the names and addresses of booksellers in fifteen European cities where issues of The Bell will be available.
* 70 +
The Bell, No. 200, July 15, 1865. Nikolay A. Serno-Solovyovich was one of the founders, along with his brother Alexander, of the first "Land and Liberty" group (1861-62), which "had sprung up so casually from the first network of correspondents and readers of Kolokol or the ideas preached by the Sovremennik" (Venturi, Roots of Revolution, 268, 278). He was arrested on July 7, 1862, the same day as Chernyshevsky. An agent of the Third Department had sent word from London that someone would be crossing the Russian border in July 1862 with letters from Herzen, Bakunin, and others; once the courier was seized, the police were able to arrest thirty-two people, fundamentally weakening Land and Liberty (Venturi, Roots of Revolution, 263). Herzen reacted painfully to the arrest, calling it a "wound on the heart" (Gertsen, Sobranie sochinenii, 18:644). Serno-Solovyovich was a key figure in the "Trial of the 32," and was admired for the dignified way he conducted himself. He said that while he loved his country, he would never be forced to act against his conscience, and saw no obligation to inform the government about his conversations abroad in i860 with Herzen and others. Although his sentence was reduced from hard labor to exile, his health rapidly declined and he died in 1866. Alexander Serno-Solovyovich lived in exile abroad and wrote critical articles on the evolution of The Bell's politics, and quoted another Russia radical to the effect that "Herzen's only use now would be to get himself killed on the barricades, but in any case he will never go near them" (Venturi, Roots of Revolution, 279).
The Serno-Solovyovich Case [1865]
One of the most noble and pure people in Russia, N. A. Serno-Solevyovich has been sent into permanent exile. "A wise government," said one member of the State Council, "would be better off trying to get such people on its side"—yes!.. a wise government!
We implore our friends to send us in extenso the Senate record for this case.1 This sentence, with its colossal absurdity, its absence of any unity, and so carelessly done (there was no time to rewrite it properly!) abandons the judicial masks with which tsarist vengeance had covered itself. For almost three years people were held in prison cells, and at rare intervals there were rumors of the significance of the case. The herd in the Senate sentenced them to hard labor, then, seeing that they had exceeded all limits, stepped back.2 What is the case about? It's about the fact that there is no case. [. . .] Serno-Solovyovich was acquainted with the London propagandists, read their publications, gave them to others to read, and met with a judicial rarity of the first magnitude (who did not become acquainted with them?)—the unconvicted state criminal Kelsiev, who is portrayed from afar as some sort of Tamerlane,3 who shook up the Russian Empire...
[. . .] The guilt ofVetoshnikov, Vladimirov, and others who received lesser sentences is, obviously, less significant.4 Here the sentence is distinguished by a remarkable casuistry. Serno-Solovyovich is being punished for the distribution of foreign works their criminal content (there isn't even the correct
punctuation), while Vetoshnikov and Vladimirov only for the distribution of criminal works (without content?). This is followed by one bit of nonsense after another: Lyalin was sentenced for suspicion of correspondence with Bakunin. The English citizen Arthur Bennie was convicted of not informing the government of Kelsiev's arrival in Petersburg. [. . .] We do not know which treaty obliges English citizens to do such a favor for the Russian police, and we ask the Foreign Office to look into this question. The young lady Marya Chelishchev was accused of having in her possession forbidden publications and illustrations, and was kept under arrest for ten days. In the worst days of the fury of our unforgettable Saul,5 there was nothing fouler than this. The failure to denounce—a criminal offense!6
[. . .] The fate of Serno-Solovyovich and his comrades has been mitigated. The sentence was deliberately published following the burial of the heir, with whom he has so little in common. [. . .] They wanted the Sovereign in his distress to suspect that he had eased the lot of the condemned . [. . .] But in the lessening of the sentence of Serno-Solovyovich and the others he took no part. They were defended by one member of the State Council7 who had been struck by the nobility, frankness, and strength of Serno-Solovyovich's responses; he looked into the case, and, surprised by its inquisitorial and, along with that, obtuse police characteristics, defended Serno-Solovyovich as best he could. [. . .]
There is nothing surprising in the fact that Serno-Solovyovich's responses impressed a decent man. Serno-Solovyovich belonged to those vessels who are chosen to provide a great example, those faces which are anointed ahead of time for martyrdom, who peacefully travel their path and clearly look enraged judges in the eye. Before such people power fails and that is why it is reluctant to raise its hand to them. Unlike the instructive example of Tiberius, one cannot defile them in prison in order to render them worthy of punishment. Such a person was Granovsky, and Nicholas left him alone. The merciful Alexander II, and Prince Orlov—who kissed Serno-Solovyovich on the lips8—are unable to make such distinctions.