CHAPTER 2

1874-1888 A MILITARY MAN

 

For four years Leonid was kept a virtual prisoner on the estate by Yurchenko and Nyanya Olga under the command of the Count. On the rare occasions when he was allowed to visit Sevastopol he was accompanied by Yurchenko and two burly servants, none of whom had been told why young Leonid should be treated thus, but who nevertheless had the intelligence to have their own, very strong suspicions.

Under the close and strict supervision of Yurchenko, Leonid was tutored intensively for the next four years and, as well as receiving a firm grounding on the basic learning skills, he was also taught English and was able to speak in halting sentences.

On his eighth birthday Leonid received a visit by his father. After formal greetings and dinner, the Count called his son into the drawing room. The boy waited apprehensively, unaware of his father's plans for his future.

"Leonid," his father, dressed in a light-coloured linen suit and spats, stood tall, his dark hair greying at the sides. "The occurrence of what happened four years ago has neither been forgiven nor forgotten by me. However, you have a life to live, and you are my son and heir. I intend to take you with me to St Petersburg where you will attend the Corps of Pages Military School for the next ten years. You will be educated to University level in the arts, sciences and the tactics of military warfare. Yurchenko tells me you have a certain degree of intelligence - I hope it will stand you in good stead in the years to come. You will have to adapt to a completely different climate and you will learn loyalty to the Tsar and to your fellow-students. It will not be easy, and I will watch your progress closely.

"Papa, I don't want to leave home - I like it here - why can't Mr Yurchenko teach me more?"

"You must face the world, my son. Your future is decided for you and I will hear no dissent. Prepare yourself for departure with me tomorrow. You may go."

The Count no longer needed the services of Yurchenko or Nyanya Olga. Yurchenko set off to find another rich man s son to teach, but Nyanya Olga was too old to find other work. Fortunately the Count was a compassionate man, and permitted her to stay on the estate, helping her long-time friends in and around the house.

The train journey to St Petersburg was long and arduous. The farther north the train went, the colder the weather became until Leonid, unaccustomed to anything other than a Mediterranean climate, began to shiver with the cold. The Count lit the small iron stove with which every carriage was fitted, and his son gradually relaxed in returned comfort. His comfort was short-lived, however, as, on arrival at St Petersburg, the temperature was -100C. Leonid had never known such cold, nor had he ever seen a river completely frozen over, as was the River Neva.

The Count first took his son to be kitted out in the Corps of Pages uniform, which comprised black, knee-length boots, grey trousers and navy blue jacket with white leather sword belt and a sailor-type white and blue hat with the Corps of Pages badge in its centre. He then took Leonid to the Vorontsov Palace to enrol, presenting him to the head of the training school, Major Leontov. The Major, a small, fat man with small, black eyes and a waxed black moustache, looked his newest recruit over, then summoned a boy, about the same age as Leonid, to take him to a dormitory.

The Count took leave of his son with a brusque "I'll be watching your progress. Do well."

Leonid trudged silently along the echoing corridors of the Vorontsov Palace carrying his kitbag, one step behind his mentor. The older boy maintained his steady stride, but asked over his shoulder "What's your name?"

Leonid did not answer. He felt cold, miserably cold, and he already felt resentment against his father for bringing him to this place where nobody knew him, nobody cared, and he was not the centre of attraction.

The boy ahead of him stopped abruptly and spun round. Unattentive, Leonid bumped into him and they both stumbled but maintained their balance. Anger flared in Leonid's dark eyes. "Hey, why'd you do that?"

"Because," replied the boy, "I asked you a question and you did not answer. Do you not know that when someone, anyone, asks you a question, you at least have the courtesy to answer him?" The boy' s guttural accent was strange to Leonid, and he looked more closely at his unwilling companion. He was a little taller, squarely built and had clear blue eyes. Leonid could not see the colour of his hair under the cap.

"I don't have to tell you."

"Yes, you do. We're going to be next to each other in the dormitory, and we're going to be friends."

"I don't want any friends - just show me where to go and leave me alone." Leonid's dark eyes were smouldering.

The boy shrugged, turned and walked on. He opened a door, ushered Leonid through it, then planted his foot on Leonid's unprotected backside, pushing him so hard he fell flat on his face into the large, unoccupied room. He slammed the door behind him.

"Now - my name is Krov Igorovich Orlovsky - what is your name?" Krov stood over the indignant Leonid, whom he prevented from rising by placing his boot in Leonid's stomach. Leonid's hands were free when he fell, dropping his burden, so he grabbed Krov's foot and pushed hard. Krov flew back, hitting and toppling a table. Leonid was on his way to continuing the fight when the door flew open and a young officer in full uniform strode into the room, quickly separating the struggling boys.

"What is the meaning of this?" he bellowed, his deep voice echoing round the room. "Stand to attention!" Leonid followed Krov's example. "What is your name, boy?" he addressed Leonid. Leonid drew himself up to his full 4'7" and replied, with as much pride in his voice as he could muster: "Leonid Alexeivich Ulakov-Holstein."

"SIR! You will address me, and everyone else in the Palace, as 'Sir'! Understood?"

"Yes ... sir."

"Very well - now, what was the meaning of the unseemly conduct I witnessed? You, Krov Igorovitch, reply!"

"Sir, I merely asked him his name, and he refused to tell me. I tried to show him that it was rude not to reply, sir."

"Well, Leonid Alexeivich, is that true?"

"Yes, sir, but he ..."

"I have no interest in further explanations. You will settle in and reply to every question asked of you from now until you leave the Palace. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Leonid's eyes did not denote submission.

"Very well - carry on." and the young officer closed the door behind him.

"Phew - that was close. If you hadn't been new, he'd have whipped you, Leonid." Krov said, indicating the bed Leonid was to use.

"Whipped me - for what?" Leonid gasped in surprise. Throughout his childhood he had never been struck for a misdemeanour.

"Rank insurbordination. Don't you know who that was?"

"No, how could I?"

"That's Captain Yurovsky, commander of the Hussar House, of which you have just become a member. He has complete freedom to punish us in any way he thinks fit. Believe me - it hurts." Krov unbuttoned his jacket and showed Leonid the welts on his back.

Leonid's eyes widened in shock. "What did you do for him to do that to you?"

"I was caught out of the dormitory after lights out - I was hungry and was raiding the pantry."

"And he did that to you - just for that?"

Krov nodded. "Then there's Lieutenant Medvedev, his second-in-command. You don't want to get in his bad books - boys don't talk about what he does to them." continued Krov, buttoning up his jacket again.

Leonid started unpacking his kitbag of belongings that he was allowed to bring with him to St Petersburg. The large room held about 20 beds and was unheated except for a single stove in the centre of the room, from which a little heat was emanating.

"Hurry up," urged Krov. "I've to show you round the Palace next, so's you'll know your way around - you'll have to learn quickly to find your way between classes, and it's a huge Palace."

His curiosity aroused, Leonid tagged along behind his new-found friend, who showed him the five other dormitories, all of whom were delegated to the other Regiments in the Tsar's army - the Jaegerski, the Cavaliers, the Cossacks, the Preobrajenski and the Cuirassers. He also saw the kitchens, the parade ground and the armoury room before returning to his own dormitory.

---oo0oo---

From the outset Leonid hated the life. The cadets were not allowed a single moment to themselves during the day, from reveille to lights out. Their time was filled with lessons, square-bashing, spit-and-polish of their uniforms and study time. Despite Krov's overtures of friendship, Leonid was a loner and wished nothing other than to be left to his own devices. Leonid learned his lessons, which was the only part of the day he enjoyed, with a quick understanding that pleased the tutors; but when he had to do anything physical, he put less than his best effort into it. The three months until the summer vacation seemed interminable for young Leonid, but at last the day dawned, bright, sunny and warm. Leonid packed his kitbag and walked, for the first time since he had arrived in St Petersburg, through the impressive gates of the Palace, expecting to see his father waiting for him. Blinking in the sunlight, he looked around the crowd of waiting parents but could see no familiar face. Suddenly a bearded man dressed in peasant's clothes of baggy trousers, blouson and belt stepped forward to stand in front of Leonid.

"Leonid Ulakov-Holstein? Sir, your father has instructed me to collect you and bring you to him." He made to lift Leonid's kitbag from where Leonid had dumped it on the ground.

"No!" Leonid was suspicious. "Where's my father? Why hasn't he come?"

"Come, now, young sir, all is well. He simply is unable to be here at this moment, owing to business. I am his servant, Yuri.

We will go now." and he ushered Leonid into a waiting landau and, without another word, drove off into the streets of St Petersburg.

They drove along the banks of the River Neva past the Winter Palace and up an untidy, broad thoroughfare which was empty except for a few carriages and troikas trotting up and down the road. Yuri turned the carriage up a side street and reined in outside a two-storey house. He jumped down and opened the door for Leonid, who, gathering his kitbag, stepped down into the uneven street.

"Sir, there's one thing I must tell you before you go in - your father has been wounded recently and he's still recouperating."

Suddenly filled with apprehension, Leonid followed the servant up the steps and into the large house. There was a long staircase leading upstairs, and Yuri led his young charge upwards to a door, which he respectfully knocked and opened, standing back to allow Leonid to enter alone.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn, and it took Leonid a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. His father was lying in bed, eyes closed.

"Papa?"

"Come in, my son." The Count's voice was weak. "Don't be afraid."

"What happened, Papa? Who hurt you?" Leonid asked, approaching the bed and seeing his father's face badly bruised, with what appeared to be cigarette burns all over. His beard was burned away, leaving short, stubbly bristle. He spoke with difficulty. "Leonid, come closer. I want you ... to see ... what the enemies of the Tsar are capable of. These people ... want to change the world, they say they want a people's republic, and this ... is the way in which they are trying to attain it. These are the people ... I am protecting Tsar Alexander from and these are the people I hope you will one day fight, as well, my son. Now go ... I will be well again soon, and will join you down in the Crimea. There is danger for you, here, now they know my ... identity. Yuri will take you there. Never forget ... what these people have done to me ..." His voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Leonid tiptoed to the door, closing it softly behind him, badly shaken at his father's apprearance. Yuri was waiting for him, leaving his father in the capable hands of a trained nurse.

---oo0oo---

For the next ten years Leonid led the secluded life of an Imperial Army cadet, first in the Vorontsov Palace then, when he was 13, he was transferred to the advanced training camp at Krasnoe Selo outside St Petersburg. There the cadets were taught how to defend themselves, how to use a gun and sword and the art of strategic warfare. They were also taught to ride and given a grounding in the social graces. Always a loner, he wanted no friends, nor had any. Krov, and his friend Lev Yashkov, were the nearest boys to him, but any form of friendship from them he actively spurned until, one cold, early spring evening after all their duties and tasks were completed, Krov approached Leonid, why was lying on his bed in the dormitory, reading a book.

"Leonid!" whispered Krov theatrically.

"Go 'way, I'm busy." and Leonid turned away from him.

"Leonid, listen." Krov perched himself on the edge of the bed. "There's a circus in Krasnoe village this week. Captain Orlovsky is sick and there's only Corporal Kaginov on guard over us tonight. Lev and I want to see the show - do you want to come?"

"How're you going to get out?" Leonid turned round, dark eyes narrowed in cautious interest. He longed to go outside to see a real circus - he'd only heard tell of them from other boys who had come from Moscow.

"After lights out," Krov whispered conspiratorially, "Corporal Kaginov likes a 'nightcap'. It's my last duty tonight to give him it - and I intend to give him more than he bargained for!"

Despite himself, Leonid chuckled, the smile lighting up his sombre face. Krov felt a pang of surprise - he had never seen Leonid smile before. Perhaps, after all, they did have something in common - a taste for adventure!

Lights out was at 9 p.m. for the younger seniors, and Krov, after giving the duty corporal his drink, slipped, fully dressed, between the sheets. Lev and Leonid, in the beds to Krov' s right and left respectively, were similarly attired. The three waited for thirty minutes, then Krov quietly arose, pulling on his boots, and crept out of the dormitory filled with sleeping boys. He softly opened the door to the corridor and looked into the adjoining room. Corporal Kaginov was slumped at his desk. Krov tiptoed back to the door of the dorm, and waved for Leonid and Lev to follow. Only the entrance to the camp was guarded, and it was easy for three fit boys to scale the seven-foot height of the perimeter wall. They were free! They ran through newly-ploughed fields towards the lights of the small town. Music! They could hear music! Away from the confines of the barracks, they laughed aloud at their bravery and the thrill of adventure. Yes! There! There was the magic of the circus! The Big Top was ablaze with gaslight and the show was in full swing as they picked their way around the gypsy caravans. Unheeding of the mud, they crawled under the canvas of the Big Top tent and were dazzled by the spectacle of white horses running round the ring, their riders performing all kinds of acrobatic tricks. Then there were elephants, and clowns, and a high-wire, and trapeze artistes. The night flew by, the show was over before they realised. Home! They had to get back to the barracks before Kaginov awoke and checked his wards.

Although it was early spring, it was still freezing and the ice had not yet broken on the nearby River Neva. In their haste to get back they slipped and slid their way over fences, through thickets and small streams, deliberately avoiding bridges that would make them instantly visible to anyone out looking for them.

The stream was narrow and there were stepping stones, but in the moonless, icy night Leonid missed his precarious footing and fell heavily, cracking his head on a stone. Krov and Lev stopped. Where was Leonid? They retraced their steps to the stream and saw their fallen comrade, lying unmoving on the ice. He leaned down to touch Leonid's dark head, and the injured boy gave a whimpering sound.

"Oh, golly, that's torn it!" exclaimed Lev. "He's unconscious - how're we going to get him back?"

Gently Krov turned Leonid over on the ice and saw a dark gash on his temple, oozing blood. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, and kicked a hole in the ice with his boot, reaching the water underneath. He soaked the cloth and bathed the wound, and Leonid's eyes flickered open. Leonid groaned softly, tried to sit up, holding his head, and sank back onto the ice. "Ohhh, my head."

"Leonid, quick," urged Lev, "we've got to get back!"

"Uhh, you go on, I'll - rest here for a while, catch up with you in a minute - go on!"

"No! We're in this together, Leonid." replied Krov. "We'll help you." and he reached down and hauled him up, putting his shoulder under Leonid's armpit. On Leonid's other side, Lev did likewise, and the three limped back to Kresnoe Selo as dawn broke, all thoughts of concealment gone. They staggered up to the gate, where the guards called the duty officer.

Captain Orlovsky arose from his sickbed, furious at the conduct of the three boys standing before him, dishevelled and exhausted from their escapade. "WELL?" he bellowed. "What is your explanation of this disgraceful conduct? Answer me, boy!" he said, addressing Leonid.

Leonid swayed on his feet, head bowed. He was still suffering from concussion. "ANSWER ME!" screamed Orlovsky, beside himself with rage. When Leonid could not reply, Orlovsky suddenly lashed out with his swagger stick, striking Leonid so hard on the face that he stumbled backwards and fell, blood steaming from a cut on his right cheek. Standing over the fallen boy, he was about to strike him again when Krov stepped between them. Orlovsky stepped back, his eyes bulging with fury. "Please sir, don't hit him again, he's hurt already. Besides, it was my fault."

"YOUR fault? You, Krov Igorovich Orlovsky? My son - committing rank insurbordination? You will pay for this, my boy. You two - report to Corporal Kaginov for detention punishment.

You, Krov, will remain with me." Slowly and deliberately, Captain Orlovsky removed his belt.

Krov never told Lev or Leonid what his father did to punish him, but Krov was a much-subdued boy for the remainder of the term. Leonid, when he was released from the camp's hospital, returned to the dormitory, where Krov was working polishing his leathers.

"Krov?" the boy looked at Leonid, then looked away, ashamedly.

"Leonid, I'm sorry, it was my fault entirely, I..."

"No, it wasn't. I wanted to come with you, so the blame lies with me, too. I want to - thank you - for coming back for me - you could've got back undetected if you hadn't."

"We couldn't leave you - you may have frozen to death out there ..."

Lev walked into the dorm, still walking a little stiffly. "Did Kaginov whip you, too?" asked Leonid. Lev nodded, smiling ruefully, as he rubbed his posterior, a boy of few words.

"Thank you - both - for helping me home. I'm glad to have you as my comrades." he added, stepping forward and clasping their hands in his. "Comrades?" he smiled.

"Comrades!" they replied in unison.

---oo0oo---

Academically, Leonid was talented at languages, gaining fluency in English as well as his bilingual knowledge of Russian and French, and he read, on his own initiative, books written in all these languages, thus expanding his views, both politically and socially, of the world in which he lived. He enjoyed History and Geography lessons and longed to travel abroad with his Regiment. He did not, however, possess a mathematical brain, and showed no interest or aptitude for the subject throughout his academic career.

As the years went by he saw less and less of his father, who was totally involved with the Court of the Tsar and its intrigues. After Tsar Alexander II's assassination by terrorist bomb in 1881 he was succeeded by his son, Alexander III. A giant of a man at 6'4", in his late thirties, wearing a large beard, his power was absolute and, a true autocrat, he considered his responsibility only to God. Leonid 's father continued his service under the new ruler.

---oo0oo---

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