The Portland daily press., 1882-07-14
A Story Of Russian Discipline.
The Gear and the Mutinsers-An Episode
of Forgotten Campaign.
lie Figaro.l

lie Figaro
One need not be surprised at anything that
happens in Russia The other evening while
smoking cigar with one of my old friends
who has seen, read and travelled great deal,
was told of an incident which occurred some
forty years ago at Novgorod, quite as sinister
as that which recently occurred at Smargon
The colonel of certain Russian regiment,
ferociously tyrannical, and, L may say, merci-
less toward his soldiers, was in the habit Of
treating his human flock like pack Of brutes.
He disciplined men with the knout, sentencing
men to whippings for having one button insult
feiently polished; whipping non-commis-
stoned officer for one stain on his cloak; strik-
ing veterans of Borodino in the face for saIut-
ing too slowly; sending poor wretches to Sibe-
ria for giving too free an answer. In short,
during the lapse of years, this colonel had
had made himself SO detested by his men that
he reaped frightful vengeance from seeds of
hatred he had sown.
One morning during parade he suddenly saw
file off from the regiment compsny of SOL
ders bearing, instead of nuskets, those long
rods which cut deeply into the flesh at every
blow.
Nevertheless he had given no ordersl There
was no soldier to chastss.
"Who is that for?" he demanded.
A grenadier advanced from the ranks. and
replied with terrible coolness:
"For thee'
The entire regiment, non-cGmmissioned ofd-
GERS and soldiers were in tho plot. The whole
regiment was present at the terrible spectacle
The colonel was seized, his uniform torn off,
he was tied down in a wheolbarroW and
wheeled up and down before the ranks of the
grenadiers, armed with rods, all OF whom
struck and insulted him.
The officers who attempted to aid their col
onel were Immediately seized and bayonets
pointed at their threats. Some were taken
away; others garroted. Only one soldier at
tempted to take part with them. Then a SER
geant, still pallid from the effects of his last
whipping with the knoUt, put his Husket to
the soldiers temple and blew his brains out.
And all the regiment saw its colonel pass I'M
der the rods.
When it was ali over they opened kills ov-
en-. The colonel was flung into it, all bleeding,
together with the officers who had obeyed him.
And when the furnace was well fed, the SOL
diers heated it slowly. slowly-until at last that
hideons, heavy and revolving smell of burning
flesh arose in the air, which the savages of the
Russian frontier inhaled some days ago at a
jewish cemetery at Smargon.
An imperial courier bore to the Gar the
news of the mptiny. Nicholas listened, became
white, but said nothing except to order four
batteries of artillery to Novgorod. Ten days af-
ter white-hairsd and graY-moustached major
general, accompanied by single alde-de camp
knocked at the door of the barracks which the
soldiers had never left since the murder of
their chiefs.
The general gazed coldly upon those pale
men, all neatly and faultlsssly uniformed, who
gave him the military salute.
Not one reproach-not one useless word. He
only said to them:
AT 6 o'clock tomorrow morning the regi-
ment will assemble in undress uniform and
without arms at the Tartar camp, upon the
Little Square. Order of the Gar
Not one voice replied. But the next day up
on the narrow square, all in ranks without
arms, in their long gray coats, their sergeants
at their usual posts, all the mutinous soldiers
were there, in lines regular as il ad justed to
string, with double line of lance-bearing Co.'S
sacks, before and behind. Then all at once
from every far spre, all the great bells began
to toll. The Cossack horsemen withdrew. Only
the unarmed infantry remained upon the
square, with folded arms, waiting. Then there
came long, low roll of drums and with it
from all the avenues leading into the square
came yolleys OF grape like iron hail.
Then nothing was heard awhile but the
thunder of the cannon in that city, otherwise
silent as cemetery when men, women and
children, kneeliDg before their holy Images,
were praying for the soldiers they were shoot
ing down in the square. And during an inter-
val in the cannOnade, hymn rolled up from
the square; for the soldiers were dying with
the prayers of their childhood upon their lips.
The cannon Numbered for hours. Then all was
silent. Powder and iron rested awhile. The
cannoneers entered the square and recoiled at
the sight of those ranks of men mown down
like wheat. From under the dead they pulled
out few still breathing victims, able to live
awhile.
"What shall be done with them, General;
shall we put them i'll the hospital?'
"Put them under the knoutl"