Russia in 1919 | Page 9

and
that the manufacturers of the story, every word of which was a lie, had
no doubt tried to give realism to it by putting in the name of the
regiment which had taken a chief part in putting down the Moscow
insurrection of fourteen years ago. Pozern, a thin, bearded man, with
glasses, was sitting at the other end of the table, as Military Commissar
of the Northern Commune.
Dinner in Smolni was the same informal affair that it was in the old
days, only with much less to eat. The Commissars, men and women,
came in from their work, took their places, fed and went back to work
again, Zinoviev in particular staying only a few minutes. The meal was
extremely simple, soup with shreds of horseflesh in it, very good
indeed, followed by a little kasha together with small slabs of some sort
of white stuff of no particular consistency or taste. Then tea and a lump
of sugar. The conversation was mostly about the chances of peace, and

Litvinov's rather pessimistic reports were heard with disappointment.
Just as I had finished, Vorovsky, Madame Vorovsky and little Nina,
together with the two Norwegians and the Swede, came in. I learnt that
about half the party were going on to Moscow that night and, deciding
to go with them, hurried off to the hotel.

PETROGRAD TO MOSCOW

There was, of course, a dreadful scrimmage about getting away.
Several people were not ready at the last minute. Only one motor was
obtainable for nine persons with their light luggage, and a motor lorry
for the heavy things. I chose to travel on the lorry with the luggage and
had a fine bumpity drive to the station, reminding me of similar though
livelier experiences in the earlier days of the revolution when lorries
were used for the transport of machine guns, red guards, orators,
enthusiasts of all kinds, and any stray persons who happened to
clamber on.
At the Nikolai Station we found perfect order until we got into our
wagon, an old third-class wagon, in which a certain number of places
which one of the party had reserved had been occupied by people who
had no right to be there. Even this difficulty was smoothed out in a
manner that would have been impossible a year or even six months
ago.
The wagon was divided by a door in the middle. There were open
coup=82s and side seats which became plank beds when necessary. We
slept in three tiers on the bare boards. I had a very decent place on the
second tier, and, by a bit of good luck, the topmost bench over my head
was occupied only by luggage, which gave me room to climb up there
and sit more or less upright under the roof with my legs dangling above
the general tumult of mothers, babies, and Bolsheviks below. At each
station at which the train stopped there was a general procession
backwards and forwards through the wagon. Everybody who had a
kettle or a coffee-pot or a tin can, or even an empty meat tin, crowded
through the carriage and out to get boiling water. I had nothing but a
couple of thermos flasks, but with these I joined the others. >From
every carriage on the train people poured out and hurried to the taps.
No one controlled the taps but, with the instinct for co-operation for

which Russians are remarkable, people formed themselves
automatically into queues, and by the time the train started again
everybody was back in his place and ready for a general tea-drinking.
This performance was repeated again and again throughout the night.
People dozed off to sleep, woke up, drank more tea, and joined in the
various conversations that went on in different parts of the carriage. Up
aloft, I listened first to one and then to another. Some were grumbling
at the price of food. Others were puzzling why other nations insisted on
being at war with them. One man said he was a co-operator who had
come by roundabout ways from Archangel, and describing the
discontent there, told a story which I give as an illustration of the sort
of thing that is being said in Russia by non-Bolsheviks. This man, in
spite of the presence of many Communists in the carriage, did not
disguise his hostility to their theories and practice, and none the less
told this story. He said that some of the Russian troops in the Archangel
district refused to go to the front. Their commanders, unable to compel
them, resigned and were replaced by others who, since the men
persisted in refusal, appealed for help. The barracks, so he said, were
then surrounded by American troops, and the Russians, who had
refused to go