Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1879-09-17
POLITICAL EXILE.
The Horrors of Siberia Under the Mer
Ciful Cars Rule.


Karl Blind in the Contemporary Review.l
of the treatment of political exiles
in Siberia | have before me a thrilling
description from the pen of Mr.. Rob
ert Lemke, a German writer, who has
visited the various penal establish
ments Of Russia with an official legit-
imation. He had been to Tobolsk ;
after which he had to make a long,
dreary journal (?) in a wretched car,
until high mountain rose before him.
In its torn and craggy flank the noun
tain showed colossal opening similar
to the mouth of burnt out crater.
Fetld vapors, which almost took away
his breath, descended from it.
Pressing his handkerchief upon his
lips, Mr.. Lemke entered the opening
Of the rock, where he found a large
watch house, with a picket of Cos
sacks. Having shown his papers. he
was conducted by guide through
a long, very dark and narrow corridor,
which, Judging from its sloping de-
scent, led down into some unknown
depth. In spite of his good fur. the
visitor felt extremely cold. After a
walk of some minutes through the
dense obscurity, the ground becoming
more and more soft, a vague simmer
Of light became observable. We
are in the mine, said the guide,
pointing with a significant ger ture to
the high iron cross bars which closed
the cavern before them.
The massive bars were covered with
a thick rust. A watchman appeared.
who unlocked the heavy iron gate
Entering a room of considerable ex-
tent, but which was scarcely mans
hight, and which was dimly lit by an
oil lamp, the visitor asked, Z" Where
are we?" " In the sleeping room of
the condemned Formerly it was a
productive gallery of the mine; now
it serves as a shelter" /"
The visitor shuddered. This sub
terranean sepulchre, lit by neither
sun nor moon was called a sleeping
room. Alcoye-like cells were hewn
into the rock; here, on a couch of
damp, half-rotten straw, covered with
a ckcloth, the unfortunate sufferers
were to repose from their days work.
Over each cell a cramp-iron was fixed
wherewith to lock up the prisoners
like feroeious dogs. No door, no win
dow anywhere.
Conducted through another passage,
where a few lanterns were placed, and
whose end was also barred by an iron
gate, Mr.. Lemke came to large vault,
partly lit. This was the mine. A
noise of pickaxes and hammers was
heard. There he saw some hundreds
of wretched figures, with shaggy
boards, slckly faces, reddened eyelids !;
clad in tatters, some Of them barefoot.
others in sandals, fettered with heavy
foot chains. No song, no whistling
Now and then they shyly looked at
the visitor and his companion. The
water dripped from the stones the
tatters Of the conyicts were thorough
ly wet. One of them, a tall man of
suffering mien, labored hard with
gasping breath, but the strokes of his
pickax we're not heavy and firm enough
to loosen the rock.
why are you here ?" Mr., Lemke
asked.
The convict looked confused, with
an air almost of CONSERVATION and
silently continued his work.
Il" 1t is forbidden to the prisoners, "
said the inspector, " to speak Of the
cause of their banishment" "
Ehtombed alive forbidden to say
why
A" But who is the convict?" Mr..
Lemke asked the guide, with low voice.
" It is Number la" the guide re-
piled, laconically.
This | see, answered the visitor
but what are the mans antecedentsl
To what family does he belong?'
lie is a count, replied the guide