Stories from the road...

Evgeny Popov accompanied Tolstoy on his 1889 walk. About fifty years later, he offered these reminiscences of the walk:

During my stay in Moscow, in May 1889, I found out that Tolstoy was getting ready to go to Yasnaya Polyana, and he wanted to go there on foot, as he had done several years ago with Kolechka Ge and Dunaev. I suggested he go with me. Lev Nikolvaevich agreed, and we had decided on the day of our departure. On the appointed day [May 2, 1889], I arrived at Khamovniki [Tolstoy’s Moscow residence]. Sophia Andreevna had gotten Tolstoy ready for the road. She gave me instructions on how to take care of Lev Nikolaevich while on the road. We got into the carriage and drove off. The driver took us out of town.[i] He let us out and we set off on foot.

Recounting about this trip, I cannot remember all the details and the order of events. In my mind there are only confused fragments of memories. (It was almost 50 years ago, after all). I will describe it as I remember it. We asked permission to sleep in one hut. Since many pilgrims passed along the Kursk highway, it was common for the residents to let people stay the night. The hostess ushered us in willingly and the started up the samovar. Tolstoy went on the porch and sat down. I stayed in the house, since the entire trip I tried to provide him with time alone as often as possible. It was a beautiful May evening. In a nearby garden the nightingales were rustling. When the owner put the samovar on the table, we crumbled baranki [round, crispy biscuits that look like bagels]. moistened them with boiling water, and when they were steaming, added some milk. It turned out to be a dish that Tolstoy really appreciated. We walked beside the railway line, along a path that ran alongside.

Once we came to three passers-by, apparently tramps [босяки, “barefoot wanderers”], who were kindling a fire and and cooking something. Walking past them, Tolstoy said:

“Greetings, brothers!”

“Your brother’s a dog,” one of them said sullenly. We walked a few steps. Tolstoy stopped, as if he wanted to return to the speaker, but then changed his mind, and we went on.

We went along the road (the highway crossed the railway several times) and down a hill. Lev Nikolayevich, pointing to a village, said:

“When we came here with Kolechka and Dunayev [in 1888], a squealing pig ran out of that yard, all covered in blood. They had slit its throat, but hadn’t finished it off, and it had escaped. It was terrible to look at it, probably most of all because its naked pink body was very similar to human’s.”[ii]

At another point, when the dusk had descended upon us, a woodcock flew straight at us, but when it saw us, it got scared and made a sharp turn and disappeared into the woods. Tolstoy said to me:

"You know it ought to have he flown right up to us and sat on a shoulder. It will be that way someday."

One day it was rainy, the road became difficult, and we set off to spend the night at the estate of a Moscow friend, the merchant Zolotarev. It was a long way before we would reach our resting place, so we had to hurry so as not to caught in the dark. Tolstoy walked quickly with his light tread, and it was hard for me to keep up with him. Turning off the highway and going two kilometers, we finally found the estate. The owners were home and received us, tired and soaked. Having sat for a bit, I felt that I was feverish from exhaustion. They put me to bed and started warming tea. Tolstoy said that the best way to get warm it is to play a piece for four hands, and immediately sat down with the hostess at the piano. Before going to bed I still heard him speaking with the hosts, telling them how to grow red currants. The next day I felt fine, and we went on.

When we passed through Serpukhov, we stopped at the post office. Lev Nikolaevch asked for the letters in his name. (Sophia Andreevna had intended to write him there.) Suddenly everyone in the post office got worked up; the employees and the public all whispered and looked at Tolstoy. I do not understand how Tolstoy could bear all the attention. He wrote a postcard, dropped it off, and we went on.

After five days we reached Tula. We went to the house of the vice-governor Sverbeev, whom Tolstoy knew quite well. We were welcomed, fed and put up in a room where the two sons of the host, marine cadets, usually lived. In the morning when we got up, Tolstoy noticed some huge iron barbells under the bed. He took them and wanted to do some exercises. I was afraid that that at his age [Tolstoy was 61], he would hurt himself, and I protested. He put down the weights, but said:

“Well, you know I have lifted five poods [two-hundred pounds] with one hand.”

From the conversations with Tolstoy during my time with him can recall only two fragments. We were standing on the second floor balcony and looking across the garden to the east. There, at the edge of the garden, stood two pine trees. Tolstoy said: “My brother and I planted those two pines, and we asked ourselves whether they would ever grow to the horizon… And now they are so far above it.” Another time, in a conversation about life after death, he said: “I know that I will live with such exalted beings, ones that we cannot even imagine now.”

[i] . Tolstoy is more precise—he mentions in his diary that they took a carriage ride to Moscow’s toll gate, presumably the Serpukhov Gate—located close to the Tul’skaya Metro station.

[ii] Tolstoy began an essay on vegetarianism, “First Step,” with a vivid description of this scene.