Much is murky here, and I have reached the conclu- sion that Alexandrovsk is settled in the main by those who arrived from Russia with money and that the largest por- tion of thc livelihood of the population is gained by illegal means.
The purchase of prisoners' personal possessions and their sale in large quantities in Nikolayevsk, the exploita- tion of foreigners and newly arrived convicts, whiskey smuggling, lending money at high interest, gambling at cards for high stakes—these are the men's occupations. The women, on the other hand, both the exiles and the free women who voluntarily followed their husbands, earn money by prostitution. When a free woman was asked at a hearing where she obtained her money, she answered, "I earned it with my body."
There is a total of 332 families: 185 are legally married, 147 are cohabitants. The comparatively large number of families is not explained by any exceptional qualities of the homesteads being conducive to good home and family life, but to the following circumstances: the foolishness of the local administration which settles families on plots in Alexandrovsk and not in more suitable areas; and, owing to his proximity to the authorities and the prison, the com- parative ease with which a local settler can procure a woman.
When life arises and flows along artificial channels rather than normal ones, and when its growth depends not so much on natural and economic conditions as on the theory and the arbitrary behavior of individuals, then it is forced to accept these circumstances as essential and in- evitable, and these circumstances acting on an artificial life assume the aspects of laws.
Augustinovich, "Several Accounts of Sakhalin." Extracted from the travel journal Sovremennojt [The Contemporary) (i88o), No. i. He also wrote the article "Prebyvaniye na o. Sakhaline" [A Sojourn on Sakhalin Island) in the Pravitelstvemty Vestnik [Government Herald) (1879), No. 276.
If an official's name is Ivan Petrovich Kuznetsov, then one street will be named Kuznetsova Street, another lvanova Street, and a third lvanovo-Petrovska Street.
The Alexandrovsk Penal Servitude Prison - The Prison Wards - Convicts in Chains - The Golden Hand - The Latrines - The Maidan - Convict Labor in Alexandrovsk - Servants - Workshops
i visited thc penal servitude prison in Alexandrovsk soon aftcr my arrival.1 It is a largc four-cornercd courtyard enclosed by six wooden prison-typc barracks and connect- ing walls. The gates are always open, with a sentry pacing nearby. The courtyard is swcpt clean; thcre is no rubbish, no garbagc, no puddles or slops. This exemplary clcanliness gives a good imprcssion.
The doors of all the buildings are widc open. I enter onc of thc doors into a small corridor. To thc right and left arc doors Icading to prison wards. Over the doorways hang
black placards with white lettering: cell no. .
cubic volume of air . number of prisoners
. At the end of thc corridor thcre is another door
leading into a small ccll which holds two political prisoncrs in unbuttoncd waistcoats, shocs over stockinglcss feet, who arc hastily plumping up their straw-fillcd mamesses. A book and a picce of black brcad lic on the windowsill. The district commander who actcd as my guidc informcd mc that thcse two prisoncrs had been givcn pcrmission to live outside thc prison, but having no desirc to be different from the other convicts, they refused to take advantage of this permission.
"Attention! Stand up!" shouted the guard.
\Ve cnter a ward. The premises seem quite large, meas- uring somc 200 cubic sazhens [ 1,400 cubic feet]. It is very light; the windows are open. The walls are dark and un- painted, full of splinters, with tow between the logs; only the tiles of the Dutch stoves are white. The floor is wood, unpainted, completely dried out. Down the center of the entire ward runs one long continuous plank bed, sloped on either side, so that the convicts sleep in a double row, head to head.
The convicts' places are not numbered and do not differ from one another, so that 70 or even 170 people can sleep on one plank bed. There is no bedding. They sleep on the bare boards or lie down on old torn sacks, on their own clothing and on all sorts of rotten rags, and it is all horrible to look at. The plank bed is covered with hats, footwear, bits of bread, empty milk bottles stoppered with paper or rags, boot trees; under the plank bed lie trunks, dirty sacks, bundles, instruments and old rags. A well-fed cat wanders near the plank bed. The walls are hung with clothing, pots and instruments, and on the shelves there are teapots, bread and boxes filled with all kinds of things.
On Sakhalin free men do not remove their hats on en- tering a prison. This courtesy is only obligatory for prison- ers. We walk along the plank bed wearing our hats while the prisoners stand, hands at their sides, and gaze silently at us. We also remain silent and observe them and the im- pression is that we have come to buy them. We go to another ward. Here again is that horrible misery which can no more be hidden under all these rags than a fly can be hidden under a magnifying glass. It is a beastly exist- ence, it is nihilistic, a negation of proprietary rights, pri- vacy, comfort and restful sleep.
Prisoners in the Alexandrovsk prison enjoy relative freedom. They do not wear fetters, they can leave the prison during the day and go wherever they please, without guards, and they do not wear uniforms, but wear whatever they possess, depending on weather and their work. Persons under investigation who have recently been returned after attempting to escape and those who for some reason are under temporary arrest are held under lock and key in a separate building which is called "The Irons." The most frequently used threat on Sakhalin is: Tll put you in The Irons." The entrance to this terrifying place is guarded by
54
sentries and one of them reported to us that all was well in The Irons.
There is the rattling of a huge, awkward padlock, cer- tainly bought from an antique dealer, and we enter a small cell where at present twenty men are incarcerated. They have recently been caught attempting to escape. They are bedraggled, unwashed, in chains, in hideous foot coverings made of rags and ropc. One half of their heads displays a disheveled mass of hair; the other half is shaven, and al- ready the hair is beginning to sprout. All are emaciated and shabby, but their gazc is couragcous.
There is no bedding. They slecp on the barc floor. In the corner stands a chamber pot. Each prisoner must take care of his natural needs in thc prescnce of twenty wit- nesses. One begs to be released and vows he will never again attempt an escapc. Anothcr begs to have his irons removed. A third complains that he does not gct cnough bread.
There are cells occupied by two or thrce prisoners, as well as cells for solitary confincment. Thcre are many interesting people to be found hcre.
Of the prisoncrs in solitary, one who evokes special attention is the notorious Sophia Bluvshtein, 'The Golden Hand," who was sentcnced to thrce ycars' hard labor for escaping from Siberia. She is a small, thin, already graying woman, with a crumpled, aging facc. Her hands are fet- tered. On her plank bed there is a gray sheepskin jacket which serves as both warm clothing and bedding. She paces hcr cell from corner to corner, and seems to be constantly sniffing the air, like a mouse in a mousetrap, and even her facial expression secms mouselike. Looking at hcr, one finds it unbelievable that not long ago shc was still beautiful and could charm her jailers, as she did in Smolensk, when a guard aided hcr to escape and even accompanied her on her flight. On Sakhalin she lived outside the prison at first, like all the other women prisoners, in free living quarters. Dressed as a soldier, she attempted to escape again, and was caught.