Russia under the Old regime

284

than in bank deposits, because in this form it guaranteed freedom from the harassment of the authorities which could be very costly.

The rank and file of provincial bureaucrats had to make ends meet from tips and petty extortions. To explain how the system worked, one can do no better than cite an incident from Saltykov-Shchedrin's Provincial Sketches, which describes in fictional form a perfectly real situation. The hero of this narrative, a minor provincial chinovnik of the old Nicholaevan school caught up in the reforms of Alexander 11, reminisces nostalgically about the past:

Yes, we took, of course, we took - who is not a sinner in the eyes of the Lord, who is not guilty before the tsar? But tell me: is it better to accept no money and work badly? When you take money, work becomes easier, more exciting. Nowadays, I look around me, everybody is busy talking, especially about this thing 'disinterest', and nothing gets done; and as for the peasant who's supposed to be better off, he groans and moans worse than before. In those days we chinovniki were very friendly with one another. There was no such thing as envy or backbiting: one could always turn to the others for advice and help. Suppose, for instance, that you have played cards all night and got cleaned out. What then? Well, you would go to the local police chief. 'Demian Ivanovich,' you would say to him, 'such and such happened. Please help.' Demian Ivanovich would hear out your story and laugh, the way bosses do. 'You sons of bitches,' he would say, 'you hold jobs and yet you won't ever learn how to make yourself a pile - everything you rake in you spend in taverns and at cards!' And then he would add: 'Well, what's done is done. Get yourself over to the Sharkovskii District and collect the taxes.' So you would proceed there, knowing you wouldn't collect any taxes but still get enough to pay for your kids' milk. It was all so very simple. You never used torture or extortion of any kind. You'd just arrive and assemble the people together. 'All right fellows, we need your help: the tsar, our father, needs money. Hand over the taxes!' And after saying this you'd step inside some cottage and look out of the window. The fellows would stand in place, scratching their heads. Then, all of a sudden, all would start talking at once and waving their arms. So they would cool off for an hour while you, of course, sat in the cottage as if nothing had happened and had yourself a good laugh. After an hour, you would send the village official over to them. 'Enough talk,' he would say, 'the master is getting angry.' Then the confusion would get worse and they'd start casting lots: a Russian muzhik can't do without lots. That meant things were moving along, they have decided to talk to the assessor and ask, wouldn't I, for heaven's sake, agree to wait until they had a chance to earn some money. 'Ah, my friends: but what about your father, the tsar? He needs the money. At least take pity on us, your officials!' All this would be said in a kindly voice: no smacking in the teeth or pulling by the hair. No saying to them: 'I take no bribes, so you'd better know what kind