Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1889-01-07
The Exiles' Begging Song.


George KEENAN, in the December
Century,, writes of life on the great
Siberian road, and describes the fol-
lowing incident 81 shall never for
get The emotions reused to me by this
song when | heard it for the first
time. We were sitting, one cold,raw,
autumnal day, in dirty post station
on the great Siberian road, waiting
for horses Suddenly my attention
was attracted by peculiar, low-pitch-
ed, quavering sound which came to
us from distance, and which, altho'
made apparently by human voices,
did not resemble anything that 1 had
ever before heard. 1t was not sing
ing nor chanting, nor wailing for the
dead, but a strange blending of all
three. 1t suggested vaguely the con-
fused and commingled sobs, means,
and entreaties of human beings who
were being subjected to torture, but
whose sufferings were not acute
enough to seek expression in shrieks
or high-pitched cries. AS the sound
came nearer we went into the street
in front of the station-house and saw
approaching chained party of
about a hundred bare headed con-
victs, who, surrounded by Gordon
of soldiers, were marching slowly
through the settlement, singing the
textiles begging song No attempt
was made by the singers to pitch
their voices in harmony, or to pro
nounce their words in unison there
were no pauses or rests at the ends
of the liues; and / could not make
out any distinctly marked rythm. The
singers seemed to be constantly
breaking in upon one another with
slightly modulated variations of the
same slow, melancholy air, and the
effect produced was that of rude
fugue, or of funeral chant, so ar
ranged as to be sung like a round or
catch by hundred male voices. each
independent of the others in time and
melody, but all following certain
scheme of vocalization, and taking
up by turns the same dreary, wailing
theme. The words were as follows :
Have pity upon US, fathers!
Don't forget the unwilling travellers,
Don't forget the long imprisoned.
Feed us, o our fathers,-help us!
Feed and help the poor and needy!
Have compassion, our fathers!
Have compassion, o our mothers!
For the sake of Christ, have mercy
On the prisoners-the shut-up ones!
Behind walls of stone and gratings,
Behind oaken doors and padlocks,
Behind bars and locks of iron,
We are held in close confinement.
We have parted from fathers,
From mothers;
, We from all our kin have parted
We prisoners;
; Pity us, o our fathers!
; eff you can imagine these words
half sung, half chanted, slowly, II
broken time and on low key, by {
hundred voices, to an accompaniment
: made by the jingling and clashing Of
: chains, you will have faint idea o
the .Miloserdnaya,' or eXiles' begging
song. Rude, artless, and inharmo
Nous as the appeal for pity was,
!. had never in my life heard anything
so mournful and depressing. l
| seemed to be the half-artic9h te eX
! preston of all the grief, thefmsery
l and the despair that had beenLAcb
generations of human beings in tn
+ etapes, the forwarding prisons, an
the mines.
: AS the party marched slowly alon
the muddy street between the lines O
s gray log houses, children and peas
Il ant women appeared at the doors wit
their hands full of bread, meat an
l. eggs. or other articles of food, whic
u they put into the caps or bags OF tn
/. three or four shaven-headed cor
a victs who acted as aims collector:
n The jingling of chains and the wal
l. inc voices of the eXiles grew gradt
: alIy fainter and fainter as the part
q passed up the street, and when I'll
: sounds finally died away in the oil
', lance and we turned to re-enter I'll
y post station, felt a strange sense
lie detection, as if the day had sudden
he grown colder darker and more drear.
lie and the cares and sorrows of III
more burdensome and oppressive.
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