The Russian Century: A Hundred Years of Russian Lives

Nikolai Volkov-Muromtsev, Memoirs

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ing. They had incredibly strict rules regarding honesty and professional knowledge of their craft. Everyone knew that if an artel took the job everything would be done as contracted. My father said that the artel was the most remarkable organization in Russia, and that an artel member was synonymous with honesty and irreproachability.

If someone needed machinery from Germany or cedar from Siberia, and artel was hired. “Here, I need 500 sazhens [one sazhen equals 7 ft.] of cedar, 12 feet by 9 inches, an inch thick—do you know where to get it?” “Yes.” “Well, be sure to get the top grade.” They came to an agreement and price. The merchant gave the artel man money without any signatures and the cedar planks were brought from Siberia at the best price possible.

No one ever worried that the artel people would cheat them. The majority of the artel men were from the peasantry, honest and smart. When I was already in England, the old Englishman Stanley Hogue used to tell me about the artels. He did business in Russia for 50 years and prior to that, his father did the same. They owned furniture factories in Moscow and Khar’kov, and they bought all their materials and wood through the artels. Not once in his fifty years in Russia did he ever actually sign a contract. He said that Russia was the only country where contracts were entered into orally rather than on paper. Transactions of twenty or thirty thousand rubles were agreed upon over a cup of tea. “No receipt was ever taken by them or me. I once gave an artel member 40,000 rubles, though I had never met him before. He delivered my order and provided an accounting down to the last penny. One could only do business this way in Russia.” Only once did he hear that a merchant had been cheated by an artel member. The name of this person was made public and all the money that the merchant lost was returned by the artel. This person could never be accepted into any other artel.

One policeman stood at the market square in Viaz’ma. What he did there, nobody knew. A second one stood on Nikitskaia Square and one strolled the Sennaia Square on Thursdays, market day. I never saw any other policemen in Viaz’ma, but it was said that there were fourteen altogether. The son of one of them was in my class.

Viaz’ma was outside the pale of settlement, but there were many Jews. I do not know precisely what allowed Jews to live outside the pale at that time, but I think that if any Jew had a profession he could live anywhere. In Viaz’ma, for example, all three pharmacists, all six dentists, I do not know how many doctors, the oculists, public notaries, many storeowners, almost all the bankers, tailors, and shoemakers were Jews. I recall that on Troitskaia Street there were four houses next to each other which had brass plates reading, e.g., “Fel’dman—Dentist.” Not one of them was a dentist or tailor in actuality. Evidently they sold goods of a sort. Everybody knew this and no one bothered

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Chapter Six

them. There were about 2,000 Jews in Viaz’ma. Out of thirty boys in my class, eight were Jews and seven of them sat in the front row because they were good students.

There were many educational institutions in Viaz’ma: the First Alexander III men’s gimnazium, the first women’s gimnazium standing opposite, the second women’s at the corner of Moskovskaia, the “realschule,” the technical school, the first and second city schools, and several common schools. I have already noted that my mother always wanted to establish a university in Vi-az’ma but the war came along.

And what about the city itself? Only in Russia could there be such contrasts. The roadways were absolutely bad. Only in the center of town were the sidewalks slabbed. On the remaining streets, the sidewalks were earthen, and raised a foot or two above the roadway. The Viaz’ma River was neglected. There were no embankments anywhere and the shoreline in the city was overgrown. It was sad. Only on the Bel’skaia side, under the precipice on which the cathedral stood, was there a boathouse. Otherwise there were no boats, not a landing, even in the city park. In spring, the Viaz’ma overflowed broadly into the flood plain meadows. How beautiful it was to look from the cathedral cliff upon this huge lake of two to three versts in length and more than a verst wide. The Bober River flowed into the Viaz’ma between the tanneries. The bridges crossing the river were old and wooden.