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Download or read book Sixteen Years in Siberia: Some Experiences of a Russian Revolutionist written by Lev Grigorievich Deutsch and published by Library of Alexandria. This book was released on 2020-09-28 with total page 514 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: In the beginning of March, 1884, I travelled from Zurich, through Basel, to Freiburg in Baden. The object of my journey was to smuggle over the frontier a quantity of Russian socialistic literature, printed in Switzerland, in order that it might then be distributed by secret channels throughout Russia, where of course it was prohibited. In Germany a special law against the Social-Democratic movement was then in force. The Sozialdemokrat was published in Zurich, and had to be smuggled over the German frontier, where the watch was very keen, rendering most difficult the despatch to Russia of Russian, Polish, and other revolutionary literature printed in Switzerland. Before the enactment of the special law in August, 1878, the procedure had been simple. At that time the publications were sent by post to some town in Germany near the Russian border, and thence, by one way or another, despatched to Russia. Later, however, it became necessary to convey them as travellers’ luggage across the German frontier, in order to get them through the custom-house, after which they could be forwarded to some German town nearer the Russian border. It was on this transport business that I was engaged. My luggage consisted of two large boxes, half-filled with literature, and their upper parts packed with linen and other wearing apparel, that the Customs officers might not be suspicious. In one trunk I had men’s clothes, in the other women’s, supposed to belong to my (non-existent) wife; and for this reason there really was a lady present at the Customs examination in Basel,—the wife of my friend Axelrod from Zurich. She offered to take further charge of the transport, thinking she would run less risk than I if the police became suspicious. As, however, the examination of the luggage went off quite smoothly, I declined the offer, hardly thinking any further trouble probable. Besides Frau Axelrod a Basel Socialist was with me at the station. He had advised me how to carry out my perilous mission, for he was experienced in such business, having managed many transports of forbidden literature. Only a few days before, accompanied by a Polish acquaintance of mine, Yablonski, he had been to Freiburg, whence they had despatched some Polish literature. He now recommended to me a cheap hotel in Freiburg, close to the station; and in good spirits I climbed into a third-class carriage. It was a Sunday, and the carriage was filled with people in gay holiday mood. Songs were sung, and unrestrained chatter filled the air. The guard was pompous and overbearing, as often happened then on German lines; I do not know if it is so still. When he saw that I was smoking, he told me very rudely, with a great show of official zeal, that this was not a smoking carriage. I answered politely that I had not been aware of it, and at once threw away my cigarette. He insisted peremptorily, however, that I must change carriages. “A bad omen,” thought I, and still recall the sensation. I was out of temper, and felt irritated and uncomfortable. The weather, too, grew overcast, and a cold drizzle set in, which worked on my nerves.