The Diaries of Sofia Tolstoy (66 page)

 

25th October
. I got up early, spent the morning with Almedingen and read six pages of proofs. Then I went to our village school, where one young, inexperienced teacher is in charge of 84 girls and boys. This evening our son Seryozha came; he played chess with his father, then played the piano. I read Almedingen the ‘Notes' I wrote about my girlhood and marriage, and she seemed to like them.

Lev Nik. exchanged letters with Chertkov's wife Galya today. I asked what they were about, and he made another excuse and pretended to have forgotten. I asked to see Galya's letter, and he said he didn't know where it was, which wasn't true. Why not just say, “I don't want to show it to you”? But recently it's nothing but endless lies, excuses and evasions…How morally weak he has become! Where is his kindness, his clarity, his honesty?

An evil spirit rules our house and my husband's heart.

I am coming to the end of this terrible diary, the history of my sad sufferings, and shall seal it up for a long, long time!

Curses on Chertkov, curses on the person who was the cause of it all!

Forgive me, Lord.

 

7th November
. On 7th November, at 6 o'clock in the morning, Lev Nikol. died.

 

9th November
. I have not recorded the events of October the 26th and 27th, but on the 28th, at 5 in the morning, he slipped out of the house with Doctor Makovitsky. His excuse for leaving was that I had been rummaging through his papers the previous night. I had gone into his study for a moment, but I didn't touch one paper—there
weren't
any papers on his desk. In his letter to me (written for the entire world) the pretext he gave for leaving was our luxurious life and his desire to be alone and live in a hut, like the peasants.* But then why did he have to write telling Sasha to come with her hanger-on, Varvara Mikhailovna?

When I learnt from Sasha and the letter about his flight, I jumped into the pond in despair. Sasha and Bulgakov pulled me out, alas!* Then nothing passed my lips for the next five days, and on 31st October at 7.30 a.m. I received a telegram from the editors of
Russian Word
: “Lev Nikolaevich in Astapovo. Temperature 40°.” Andrei, Tanya and I travelled by special train from Tula to Astapovo. They didn't let me in to see Lev Nik.* They held me by force, they locked the door, they tormented my heart. On 7th November, at 6 in the morning, Lev Nik. died. On 9th November he was buried at Yasnaya Polyana.

20th November
. Masha is very poorly; her temperature was 40.8 this evening. My heart is like lead; I feel so sorry and afraid for her. The house is sad and silent.

 

21st
. Masha is very ill. Day and night her temperature is 41.3. Doctor Afanasyev came.

 

23rd
. Masha has a fever of 40.7, and has difficulty speaking. I am terrified. I don't sleep at night, my soul is oppressed.

Lina and Misha came for dinner, and it became a little more cheerful; there are still plenty of people to love, so long as I have my grandchildren.

 

24th
. Masha is still very ill. Doctor Shchurovsky and Doctor Afanasyev came. There is inflammation of the left lung and pleurisy.

Lina and Misha have left. Ilya came—wanting money as usual. 1° of frost, snowing. We can think of nothing but Masha's illness.

 

25th
. Masha is in a terrible state—groaning, tossing and delirious. I was sitting with her and it was unbearable to see her. I walked along the avenue and thought:
why
do people so value their own lives and those of their loved ones? We are all tense with anticipation.

 

27th
. Masha died quietly at twenty to one this morning. Lev Nikolaevich was sitting beside her, holding her hand. She sat propped up on the pillows, and we were all with her in the room under the arches. I kissed her forehead and stood beside L.N. Kolya kept weeping and kissing her hands even after she had fallen quiet. A terrible wind was howling and tearing at the house. I cannot believe Masha has gone; it is very painful.

 

28th
. Masha has been laid in her coffin, and Marfa Kub[asova], Olga Ershova, Matryosha and her mother are all sitting with her. Lev Nikolaevich, Kolya and Tanya went in to see her and a funeral
service will be held. I have been with Kolya and Andryusha, who are making all the arrangements.

 

29th
. We buried Masha.

 

30th
. I do nothing all day, life has stopped. I went to the side wing to see my granddaughter Tanyushka, who is adorable.

8th August
. Alexei the yard-keeper told us a strange tale of how some hooligans had questioned him about our house and offered him a hundred rubles if he turned informer. We are all terribly frightened and can't sleep. I wrote to the governor, and sent someone to buy a gun. Tanya's husband Mikhail Sukhotin came. We read her splendid article about the fire, and were very moved.*

 

9th
. Four policemen were sent over here with an officer. Nothing has happened, but yesterday some tramps told Alexei to bring them some bread.

A Czech journalist was here.

 

19th
. A tragic accident. A 7-year-old boy has drowned in the middle pond; his 16-year-old sister waded in to save him and was also drowned. The poor mother! She is the sister of Varya, our washerwoman. Lev Nikolaevich and I went to the Chertkovs. Endless talk and crowds of young people, mainly peasants. He preached—utter hypocrisy. His follower Abrikosov came, and two schoolmistresses from Kazan.

 

22nd
. My 63rd birthday, I cannot believe I'm so old. The Chertkov family was here, the Goldenweisers, Maria Schmidt, Rostovtsova and Abrikosov. I thought of my children and longed to see them. I played the piano for a long time during the day, and this evening read Zosya Stakhovich my memoirs. Lev Nikolaevich visits the Chertkovs almost every day.

 

23rd October (Moscow)
. L.N.'s secretary Gusev has been arrested for inserting the words “the brainless Tsar” into L.N.'s article ‘What Is the Solution?' and for not having a passport.

 

26th October
. L.N. visited Gusev in jail.

 

27th November
. The anniversary of our daughter Masha's death. Exactly one year. How sad and strange it is that she is gone. Our life is so quiet and lonely now. I have developed a passion for painting portraits,
which is a great waste of concentration and energy. Lev Nikolaevich goes riding and muddles up his
Circle of Reading
: it's like Penelope's labours—one day he works, the next day he does it all over again.

31st August
. This morning we had a visit from a 30-year-old Romanian who had castrated himself at the age of 18 after reading
The Kreutzer Sonata
.* He then took to working on his land—just 19 acres—and was terribly disillusioned today to see that Tolstoy writes one thing but lives in luxury. He questioned everyone, seeking an explanation of this contradiction. He was obviously very hurt, and said he wanted to cry, and kept repeating, “My God, my God! How can this be? What shall I tell them at home?” Then a rich deaf mute arrived from Kiev with his friend, a barber, especially to make Tolstoy's acquaintance. Goldenweiser came and played chess with L.N.

 

2nd September
. Lev Nikolaevich's preparations to visit Chertkov are very painful for me. I corrected the proofs of Maude's English biography of him, and drew some illustrations. Our visitors today were the Nikolaevs, Goldenweiser, Kalachyov, the deaf mute and some cinematographers from Paris.*

18th April (Yasnaya Polyana)
. Easter Sunday. A decorated officer visited, who had written some scurrilous verses about Lev Nikolaevich.* Very remorseful. We rolled eggs on the balcony with the children. A warm summery day, 18° in the shade. The birches are delightful with their soft green leaves. The cheerful sounds of humming bees and singing birds. Clear, bright days, intermittent rumbling of thunder, peasants singing in the village. Seryozha has left. He played the piano a little, his own works too, which were lovely. This evening Nikolaeva came to visit. Endless talk, they all prevented me from doing any work.

 

19th
. There are some lovely bulbs out in the meadow, and marguerites and violets. Still the same heavenly fine weather—it could be June. We had dinner on the veranda and rolled eggs. Two real Japanese men* visited; one runs a lot of schools in Japan, the other is a student in Moscow. Maria Schmidt came, and Gorbunov. Then Mezhekova the typist arrived with her little girl. After church they played the gramophone at the village library, and a lot of people came to listen. Lev Nikolaevich talked to the peasants, who asked him about the horn, and about the construction of the gramophone. Tanya is packing—unfortunately: I shall miss my granddaughter Tanechka. I played “opinions” with the children. Tanechka thought and thought, then said, “Granny is an angel.”

 

20th
. My two darling Tanechkas, mother and daughter, left this morning. I worked hard on the proofs of
Childhood
. I miss my daughters and worry about Sasha. This evening I sat down to play the piano—the whole of Beethoven's ‘
Pathétique
', and another sonata of his. Lev Nikolaevich listened happily.*

 

29th May (Yasnaya Polyana)
. Painful discussion with Lev Nikolaevich. Reproaches flung at me for our privileged life, after I complained about the difficulties of running the estate. He wants to drive me out of Yasnaya to live in Odoev or Paris or some other place. I went out of the house. Terrible heat, aching leg, wild pulse. I lay down in a
ditch and stayed there, and they sent a horse for me.* Stayed in bed all day, wept, didn't eat. The sculptor Paolo Trubetskoy came with his wife.

 

4th June
. Too many visitors. Lev Nikolaevich is distraught because the Circassian guard has brought Prokofy in for stealing a beam, and he is an old man who once worked with him.* Oh, I've had enough of the estate!

 

28th October
. Lev Nik. has left! My God! He left a letter telling me not to look for him as he had gone for good, to live out his old age in peace. The moment I read those words I rushed outside in a frenzy of despair and jumped into the pond, where I swallowed a lot of water. Sasha and Bulgakov dragged me out with the help of Vanya Shuraev. Utter despair. Why did they save me?

 

29th
. All the children have come, apart from Lyova, who is abroad. They are so kind and attentive, but they can't help or comfort me. Mitasha Obolensky has come. Seryozha, Ilya and Misha have left. Vanya discovered that L. Nik. had gone to Belev—maybe to see his sister Maria Nikolaevna?*

 

30th
. I cry day and night and suffer dreadfully. It's more painful and terrible than anything I could have imagined. Lev Nik. did visit his sister in Shamordino, then travelled on beyond Gorbachevo—who knows where.* What unspeakable cruelty!

 

31st
. I haven't eaten or drunk anything for four days, I ache all over, my heart is bad. Why? What is happening? Nothing to write about—nothing but groans and tears. Berkenheim came with some stupid doctor called Rastorguev, and a young lady fresh from medical school.* These outsiders make it much more difficult, but the children don't want to take
responsibility
. What for? My life? I want to leave the dreadful agony of this life…I can see no hope, even if L.N. does at some point return. Things will never be as they were, after all he has made me suffer. We can never be straightforward with each other again, we can never love each other, we shall always
fear
each other. And I fear for his health and strength too.

 

1st November
. I am growing weak; I have eaten nothing for five days, and have just drunk a little water. Today I feel slightly better, and am
not such a prey to my passionate love for L.N. that has tormented my heart and is now poisoned. I received the Eucharist, talked with the priest and decided to take a little food, for fear of not being strong enough to go to Lev Nik. should he fall ill. My son Misha has arrived. I did a little work.

 

2nd
. I received a telegram from
Russian Word
at 7.30 this morning: “Lev Nik. ill in Astapovo. Temperature 40°.” Tanya, Andryusha, the nurse and I all left Tula for Astapovo by special train.

 

3rd (Astapovo)
. Doctor Nikitin arrived, then Berkenheim. Lev Nikolaevich has pneumonia in the left lung. They won't let me see him. Seryozha is here, and Tanya. Lev Nik. wired for Chertkov in person.*

 

4th
. Lev Nik. is worse. I wait in agony outside the little house where he is lying. We are sleeping in the train.

 

5th
. Shchurovsky and Usov have come. There is evidently little hope. I am tormented by remorse, the painful anticipation of his end, and the impossibility of seeing my beloved husband.

 

6th
. Dreadful atmosphere of anticipation. I can't remember anything clearly.

 

7th
. At 6 o'clock in the morning Lev Nikol. died. I was allowed in only as he drew his last breath. They wouldn't let me take leave of my husband. Cruel people.*

 

8th
. We are leaving with the body. They have lent us the train carriage in which we were staying.

 

9th
. Back in Yasnaya. Crowds of people at Zaseka. We lowered the coffin onto the station and they came to pay their last respects. Masses of young people and delegations. They all followed the coffin from Zaseka to Yasnaya Polyana. We buried Lev Nikolaevich.

 

10th
. I am ill with a cough and a fever of 40.4—I cannot remember anything. Varya Nagornova and my sister Tanya are here with me. It's good to be with them. Sasha left this morning for Telyatinki.

 

11th
. I am ill. They have hired a nurse, Ekaterina Terskaya.

 

13th–15th
. Ill. My sons were here.

 

16th–18th
. Ill in bed. Many letters and telegrams.

 

25th
. Better, but still in bed. Sleepless nights.

 

27th
. Got up. Bulygin, Biryukov, my sister Tanya, the Sukhotins and others came. They brought my granddaughter Sonechka.

 

28th
. Health better. Anna Maslova came, Drankov the cinematographer and Spiro the journalist. All very painful, but it's a little easier with other people. What will happen when I'm alone? Terrible! No future.

 

29th
. Unbearable depression, remorse, painful feelings of pity for my late husband's sufferings—what he must have endured at the end!…I cannot go on living. My sister Tanya has a sore throat.

 

30th
. Sasha arrived with Maria Schmidt and Vaka Filosofov. Tanya is better. Zero degrees. A damp, overcast November, with almost no snow. A dismal, frightening life ahead—in a few days I shall be alone.

 

2nd December
. Everyone is still here, thank God. What will happen afterwards? Sasha arrived with Varvara Mikhailovna.

 

4th
. A journalist from the
New Times
has arrived—a certain Ksyunin. Windy and overcast. No snow. I haven't done a thing. A lot of chatter on all sides.

 

5th
. Seryozha and others came. We show Lev Nik.'s room to visitors.

 

6th
. More people came to visit the grave with the physicist Alexander Zinger. A dear man. I showed them the rooms. Bulgakov was here. I read him my memoirs. My two darling Tanechkas have left. It's even more sad and difficult.

 

7th
. Deep despair all day. I didn't sleep all night and wept all morning. My daughter-in-law Sonya came, Ilya arrived for dinner, and things became more cheerful. Bulgakov and Belinky came. Zero degrees.

8th
. My sister Tanya left this morning, and I wept. The loneliness is unbearable. No one to care for, no one to talk to. I don't remember what I did. I wrote something and went to L.N.'s grave with Sonya.

 

9th
. I translated some letters from French and copied them for the new edition. Proofs. The artist Rossinsky came. My daughter-in-law Sonya left this evening.

 

10th
. Read proofs all day. Rossinsky is still here. My son Misha arrived for dinner and left at eight to see Sasha, from where he will return to his estate in Chifirovka. I took a bath. A wind has blown up. I wrote to Maslova, Taneev,* Lyova and Andryusha.

 

11th
. I tidied Lev Nikolaevich's things to protect them from moths. It was terribly painful—life is torture. I wrote to Tanya and fell asleep this afternoon to the sounds of a terrible gale. Loneliness, remorse, despair!

 

12th
. Read proofs, walked to the village with the nurse. Everyone weeps when they see me. I sorted through the newspapers. Dushan Makovitsky has left to see Misha, whose son Petya has pneumonia. A publisher called Lenkovsky was here. This evening there was a telegram announcing Seryozha's arrival.

 

13th
. I didn't sleep last night. Oh, these ghastly sleepless nights, alone with my thoughts, my agonizing conscience, the darkness of the winter night and the darkness in my soul! Two ladies from St Petersburg came with a letter from Misha Stakhovich—one was called Elena Timrot. Gué, Nikitin and my son Seryozha came too. Life is easier with them here. But soon there'll be loneliness again!

 

14th
. My guests haven't left yet, and I am glad! I wept all day and visited the grave. There I found an artist and the village policeman—most unpleasant. I catalogued the library books, most of them Lev Nikolaevich's. What a warm winter! It's 2° today. I wrote to Lyova.

 

15th
. Seryozha, Maria Schmidt, Bulygin and Gué spent the day with me. Sasha came—we are friends. I weep incessantly, tormented by my separation from Lev Nik. My one consolation is that I too haven't long to live. I have done a little work on the proofs and feel unwell.

 

16th
. All the villagers from Yasnaya Polyana—peasants, women and children—gathered today, 40 days after his death, at Lev Nikolaevich's grave, which they tidied and laid with branches and fir wreaths. They knelt on the ground three times, took off their caps and sang ‘Eternal Memory!' I cried and suffered deeply, but felt moved by the peasants' love for him. At that moment we were all experiencing the same thing together, and they were so sweet to me. I wrote to my sister and to my daughter Tanya, and to Ilya and Andryusha. So sad and lonely!

 

17th
. I took a sleeping powder and slept, but waking was frightful! Yet more visitors from far-off places to see the grave and the house. Proofs, newspapers—such a lot to be done. I live here with the nurse, Ekaterina Terskaya. Proofs, copying and depression day and night. It sometimes seems all this is temporary and things will soon return to normal.

 

18th
. I walked around the garden in the heavy snow, then visited Lyovochka's grave. I feel so puzzled whenever I go there—can it really be my beloved Lyovochka lying under the ground? And every time I cry until my chest aches. I copied his articles and read proofs. Oh, the loneliness! 52 girl students from St Petersburg came to visit the grave and look around the house.

 

19th
. I copied out a play by L.N., then walked to the village to find out about the taxes and ask who was selling what to pay them. Biryukov visited briefly, with a journalist from
Russian Word
, and yet more visitors. They come from all corners of the world. There were four Slavs from Austria, a man from the Caucasus and a Mohammedan who brought a wreath. A lot of snow. It is white, quiet and beautiful. 5° below freezing. But where is
He
? Where?

 

23rd
. Ilya has left. He visited Sasha and Chertkov, about whom we are discovering more and more bad things. A sly, malicious man. I went to photograph the grave, and wept. A delightful, fine, bright day, with the white hoar frost and the blue sky. But the beauty made me even sadder. 13–17° below freezing. This afternoon I developed my photographs of Lev Nik.'s grave.

 

24th
. Another sleepless night—torture! I was woken by a mouse. This morning I printed the photographs of L.N.'s grave. Then I wrote letters
to my sister Tanya, Chefranov the accountant, the editors of
Herald of Europe
and
Russian Wealth
, the stationmaster and Sergeenko. This evening I copied L.N.'s manuscript of
The Light Shines Even in Darkness
. A rough draft, not very good. Andryusha is a little calmer but still irritable.

 

25th
. A painfully sad Christmas! I was pleased to have Andryusha here, but he left at three. I visited L.N.'s grave with the nurse, and decorated it with white and pink hyacinths, leaves and primulas. I wept bitterly. The beauty of nature and the light of the sun were astonishing. Dushan Makovitsky, the nurse and I wrote quietly for a long time in the drawing room together. 15° below freezing.