The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-10-01
Thu Horrors Of siberian Exile.

Ofthe treatment Of political. exiles In
Siberia I have before me q thrilling de-
scription from the pen Of Mi. Robert
Lemke, German writer, who has visit
ed the various penal establishments Of
Russia with an official legitimation. He
had been to Tobolsk; after which he had
to make q long, dreary journey in q
wretched car, until a high mountain
rose before him. In its torn and craggy
flank the mountain showed q colossal
opening similar to the mouth Of burnt
out crater. Fetid vapors, which almost
took away his breath, assembled 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 Cossacks. Hav,
ing shown his papers, he was conducted
by guide through a long, very. dark n
narrow corridor, which, judging from
its sloping descent, led down into some
unknown depth. In spite Of his good
fur. the visitor felt extremely cold. After
a walk of some ten minutes through the
dense obscurity, the ground becoming
more and more soft, a vague simmer or
iieht became observable. "We are: in
the mine!" said the guide, pointing with
o. significant gesture to the high iron
cross-bars which closed the cavern be-
fore them.
The massive bars were covered with a
thick rust. A Waterman appeared, who
unlocked the heavy iron gate. Entering
a room of considerable extent. but which
was scarcely a mans height, and which
was dimly lit by an oil-lamp, the visitor
asked: "Where are WEI" In the
sleeping-room of the condemned! Form
erly it was a productive gallery of the
mine; now it serves as a shelter.
The visitor shuddered. This subter-
n e sepulcher, 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 sackcfotb,
the unfortunate sufferers were to repose
from the days work. Over each cell 4
cramp-iron was fixed, wherewi.h to lock
mn the prisoners like ferocious dogs. No
door. no window 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 a vault which
was partly lit. This wa the mine. A
deafening noise of pickaxes and ham,
mers. There he saw hundreds of w1etch-
ed figures, with shaggy boards, sickly
faces. Redeemed eyelids; clad in tatters.
some of them barefoot, others in sandals,
fettered with heavy ~foot-chains. No
song. no whistling. Now and then they
shyIy looked at the visitor and his com
panion. The water dripped from the
stones; the tatters of the convicts were
thoroughly wet. One of them. a tall
man Of suffering mien, labored hard
with gasping breath, but the strokes oil
his pickax were not heavy and firm
enough to loosen the rock.
"Why are you hereP" Mr.. Lemke
asked.
The convict looked confused, with an
air almost of CONSERVATION, and silently
continued his work. .
at is forbidden to the prisoners"
said the inspector, ito speak of the
cause OF their banishment!"
Entombed alive; forbidden to say
"But who is the convict ?" Mr..
Lemke asked the guide, with low voice.
"Itis Number ia" the guide replied,
laconically.
"This I see," answered the visitor:
"but what are the mans ~antecedents?
To what family does he belong?"
"He is count" replied the guide; "a
well-known conspirauor. More. l regret
to say, I cannot tell you about Number
Hap
The visitor felt as if he were stifed in
the gravelike at~mosphere-as if his
chest were pressed in by a demoniacal
nightmare. He hastily asked his guide
to return with him to the upper world.
Meeting there the commander of the
military establishment, he was obliging.
" asked by that officer:
"Well, what impression did our penal
establishment make upon your"
Mr.. Lemke stitly bowling in silence,
the officer seemed to take this as a kind
of satisfied assent, and went on:
Every industrious people, the men be-
low, are they not?"
"But with what feelings" Mr.. Lemke
answered, must these unfortunates
look forward to a day Of rest after the
weeks TOLL"
"Restm said the officer; "convicts
must always labor. There is no rest for
them. They are condemned to perpetual
forced labor; and he who once enters the
mine never leaves itm
"But this is barbarous"
The officer shrugged his shoulders.
and said: "The exiled work daily for
twelve hours; on Sundays too. They
must never pause. But, no; I am mis-
taken. Twice a year, though, rest is
permitted to them-at Easter time and
on the birthday ofhis majesty the En-
peror."-Karl Blind, in the Contemporary
Re1rew.