The Velizh Affair

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The Velizh Affair Page 7

by Eugene M. Avrutin


  were centrally located.

  The annexed territories gave Russia some 800,000 Uniates, 100,000

  Roman Catholics, and 50,000 Jews, of whom 300 resided in Velizh.15

  In 1829, 90 percent of the 587,538 inhabitants in Vitebsk province lived

  in the countryside. Of all the places officially classified as “urban settlements,” Velizh was the second largest, behind only the provincial capital

  of Vitebsk (14,777 inhabitants), and ahead of Polotsk (6,722), Lepel’

  (5,338), Dinaburg (4,646), Nevel’ (4,538), and Surazh (4,270). Those

  decades witnessed a dramatic expansion of the Jewish population. By

  1829, the Jews of Velizh comprised less than one- third of the population

  (somewhere around 2,000 of 6,953 inhabitants).16

  At the time of the criminal investigation, Velizh was divided along

  economic, geographic, and confessional lines. Jews clustered on the

  right bank of the Western Dvina, in the most prosperous part of

  small-tOwn life

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  town, while the Belarusian population, comprising mainly Uniates

  and a small number of Catholics, lived on the left bank, in the poor-

  est section. The Uniate Church was Eastern Orthodox in rite and

  Roman Catholic in doctrine. Merging Latin and Byzantine elements,

  it served as the building block of peasant religious identity. The

  mixed Uniate traditions were always in constant conflict with the

  Eastern Orthodox Church. Parishioners celebrated holidays accord-

  ing to the Julian calendar, the calendar of Orthodoxy, but learned

  Catholic doctrine in the catechism. They prayed to Catholic saints,

  while accepting the ceremonies and rites of the Orthodox Church.

  After the first partition, Catherine started meddling in the reli-

  gious life of the Uniate community. Following the Polish Uprising

  of 1830– 1831, Nicholas I redoubled the empress’s efforts to transfer

  Uniate churches, clergy, and parishes to the Orthodox Church. By

  the mid- 1870s, the Russian government succeeded in thoroughly

  suppressing the Uniate Church and forcibly converting all its mem-

  bers to Russian Orthodoxy.17

  In the mid- 1820s, the regime’s campaign to eradicate the Uniate

  faith did little to alter the confessional landscape of the town. We

  could imagine Velizh as consisting of three concentric zones: the mar-

  ket square, surrounding neighborhoods, and suburbs.18 An 1837 topo-

  graphical survey listed 997 buildings, of which fourteen were brick

  structures; the rest were made of wood. The town hall— a two- story

  brick building— was the most visible site in the market square. This

  was where the municipal government, consisting of the town council,

  treasury, and sheriff’s office, managed the town’s day- to- day affairs.

  The post office, also a two- story brick building, stood on the eastern

  edge of the square, as did the courthouse. Attracting people far and

  wide, the market square was lined with rows of cloth stalls and shops

  and was the town’s central gathering place. Among the many items

  available for purchase on good days were chickens, geese, meats, an

  assortment of vegetables and fruits, fresh fish, pickled herring, milk,

  butter, and household items. Mirka Aronson’s two- story house— one

  of three brick town homes owned by Jewish merchant families—

  was on the left side of the town hall. Today the market square is a

  small park, with a statue of Lenin prominently on display, and Mirka

  36

  Map of Velizh in the 1830s. Rossiiskii gosudarstvennyi istoricheskii arkhiv, f. 1293, op. 166, d. 18

  A Ruins of medieval castle

  B Central marketplace

  C Marketplace

  D Marketplace

  Brick structures

  1. St. Nicholas Uniate Cathedral

  2. St. Il’insk Uniate Church

  3. Exaltation of the Holy Spirit Uniate Church

  4. St. Trinity Uniate Church

  5. Catholic church

  6. Courthouse

  7. Town hall

  8. Post office

  9. Treasury

  10. General store

  11. House belongs to St. Nicholas Cathedral, with trade shop on the first level and rooms for clergy on the second floor

  Wooden structures

  12. Old general store

  13. Almshouse

  14. Taverns

  15. Flour mill

  16. Tavern

  17. Bridges

  18. Primary school for Christian children

  19. Two- story houses occupied by merchant families, with taverns

  and trading stalls on the first level

  20. Jewish school

  21. Meat stalls

  22. Trade stalls

  23. Merchant warehouses and barns

  24. Ferry

  25. Town boundaries

  26. St. Petersburg Road

  27. Smolensk Road

  28. Vitebsk Road

  29. Toropets Road

  30. Occupied homes

  31. Unoccupied homes

  33. Decrepit buildings

  Sites outside town boundaries

  33. St. Michael’s Cemetery

  34. Feast of the Intercession Church

  35. Vasilii the Great Church

  36. Catholic cathedral

  37. Fortress

  38. Barn

  38

  38

  the Velizh affair

  A statue of Vladimir Lenin

  in the center of the town

  park, the site of the mar-

  ketplace in the nineteenth

  century. With the dissolu-

  tion of the Soviet Union

  in 1991, many cities and

  towns destroyed the stat-

  ues. Photograph by Jeffrey

  Shallit

  Aronson’s house has been converted into a museum of history and

  local lore.

  A visitor taking a stroll around town would see five Christian places

  of worship— four Uniate and one Roman Catholic— all of which were

  brick structures. The great synagogue, a two- story wooden building,

  located just south of the town square, across the Holy Spirit Uniate

  Church, played the most visible role in the religious and educational

  life of the Jewish community.

  But there were other religious institutions, not listed in the official

  topographic surveys, that served important communal functions as well.

  The kheyder, a private one- teacher elementary school, was the standard institution of Jewish learning. Teachers taught little boys sacred

  Jewish texts in their own homes, beginning at age three. The physical

  conditions— poor ventilation and easy transmission of disease— were

  typically abysmal and the study hours exasperatingly long. The more

  small-tOwn life

  39

  The Velizh Museum is now housed in the building where the Aronson/ Berlin

  family lived in the 1820s. The structure was rebuilt after World War II. Photograph by the author

  advanced students continued with studies of the Talmud in the bes-

  medresh (communal study hall). With a large section reserved for men and a smaller one for women, the besmedresh served as a place of Torah learning and worship. The furnishings were simple, consisting of chairs

  and tables, and most people came for several hours of part- time study

  and prayer.19

  Due to the significant presence of Hasidim, it is likely that there were

&n
bsp; several shtibls in town. The shtibl was not only a place for prayer and study, as was a synagogue or besmedresh, but also a social and recreational center akin to a club or pub patronized by only men. Most shtibls were modest in size— a hall, small building, or private home— and contemporaries

  observed that, in addition to prayer and study, eating, singing, dancing,

  storytelling, and overindulgences were commonplace. Jewish law for-

  bade levity, idle talk, eating, drinking, and sleeping in a house of prayer.

  Rabbinical authorities spilled much ink in denouncing the Hasidim for

  engaging in these activities. For their part, authorities were not so much

  troubled by the Hasidim straying outside the established boundaries of

  prayer and study. What concerned them most was the merriment, loud

  noise, and drunkenness that went on in shtibls at all hours of the night.20

  Walking south on Il’inskaia Street, away from the marketplace,

  visitors would pass by the Roman Catholic church, a wooden meat

  40

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  the Velizh affair

  stall, and a tavern. If they turned right, they would cross a small

  wooden bridge and stumble upon the ruins of a medieval castle on

  the embankment, probably built in the fourteenth century. If they

  made a slight turn to the left, they would see a flour mill and brew-

  ery. Only a few steps away was the general store, which occupied a

  two- story brick building recently erected. Just north of the market

  square on Il’inskaia Street was the St. Il’insk Uniate Church. A med-

  ical clinic, another tavern, flour mill, and a small primary school

  for Christian children were some of the other significant sites in the

  neighborhood.

  In Velizh, as in many other towns in the East European borderlands,

  Jews owned almost all the homes and shops in the center, managed a siz-

  able portion of the estates in the provincial district, enjoyed a monopoly

  on the marketplace, and controlled timber sales, small- scale trade, and

  the liquor industry.21 A complex of wooden homes, owned mostly by

  Jews and a small number of humble Polish landowners, dotted the

  eastern and western sides of the marketplace. These were one- story

  structures, consisting of several rooms, with courtyards and gates. Most

  Jews who lived there worked as tailors, cobblers, woodworkers, soap and

  candlestick makers, and brush and comb makers. Some were bakers,

  teachers, brewers, distillers, and glaziers. In the outlying areas, the small wooden homes were occupied by peasant families, lodgers, retired soldiers, vagrants, and itinerant laborers. Soldiers’ barracks, peasant huts,

  and other modest wooden dwellings with dirt floors, tiny windows,

  and damp walls could be found on the southern side of the town, on

  either side of the Western Dvina. The jail stood next to the woods on

  the outskirts of town along Smolensk Road. The Jewish cemetery was

  located on the northern tip, around a thirty- minute walk from the town

  center, and St. Michael’s Cemetery was on the south side, not too far

  away from where the little boy Fedor was born.

  Travelers took note of the miserable state of the land and the people

  on the western side of the Russian border. Robert Johnson, for instance,

  was taken aback at how quickly the “Russian character— the lively and

  boisterous mirth of the poor Russ— changed for the cold, calculating

  silence of the other.” Every feature— including the countenances, cos-

  tume, and cut of hair— indicated a change of tribe. Jews were the princi-

  pal inhabitants of the region. And he could not believe how many there

  A postcard of Il’inskaia Street. The St. Il’insk Church, built in 1772 and demol-ished during World War II, is in the background. Velizh Museum

  42

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  the Velizh affair

  The great synagogue burned down in 1868. Male congregants sat around the spacious perimeter and on the sides of the bimah. Perezhitoe 3 (1911) were, “much more than might have been expected, so near the frontiers

  of ancient Russia, a country in which a Jew has never attempted to

  enter.” “The common Lithuanians”— a reference to local Uniates and

  Catholics— “are poor, miserable, abject creatures,” while Jews “are lanky

  and squalid,” all dressed alike “in long tunics of black silk, with a broad silken sash tied around the waist. On the head they wear a small velvet

  cap, and over it a huge one made of fur.”22

  Velizh county had the lowest population density in the province. It

  also experienced some of the worst cases of famine, due in part to the

  gritty nature of the sandy soil.23 In an assessment of the grain shortages

  in Belarus, the poet- cum- statesman Gavriil Derzhavin observed, after a

  personal tour of the region in 1799, that Vitebsk province was in much

  worse shape than its neighbor Mogilev. With all the grain reserves used

  up, the “entire northern region is suffering not only shortages, but

  real- life hunger.”24 For Derzhavin, the source of the problem was the

  unhealthy relations between petty Polish landowners, peasants, and

  small-tOwn life

  43

  Jews. By allowing Jews to manage noble estates and encouraging harm-

  ful pursuits such as the liquor trade, Polish landowners left peasants at

  the mercy of the lease agents. Derzhavin spent the bulk of his lengthy

  Opinion blaming Jews for the region’s economic woes.25

  The war with Napoleon devastated the region. The Grand Armée

  numbering half a million men crossed the Nemen River on June 24, 1812.

  The French troops continued on to Vil’na (June 30), Vitebsk (July 28),

  and Smolensk (August 18) before marching toward Moscow and back.

  As the Russian army retreated, Cossacks were given the unenviable

  task of burning entire villages and towns, bridges, and crossways and

  destroying all the food and fodder they could grab. Local goods and pro-

  duce were burned or carried away from neighborhood stores. Desertion

  rates were unusually high.26 In his reflections on the ruins he witnessed,

  Edward Morton noted, “All the ground was trodden by the conflict-

  ing armies in the memorable campaign of 1812: upon these very plains

  thousands and tens of thousands of the French invaders perished by

  the sword and the rigour of the climate, in addition to their numerous

  opponents who fel in the cause of their country.”27 Focusing on the

  situation in Smolensk, Robert Johnson remarked, “Never did the hand

  of destruction press more heavily than on this ill- fated city. Everything

  bears the mark of French devastation.” After a sizable number of the

  inhabitants fled for their lives, “nothing but a melancholy and horrid

  picture of ruin is distinguishable.”28

  For more than six months, soldiers fought over and plundered the

  land, causing massive casualties and destruction of personal property.

  Witnesses observed how fires blazed through neighborhoods and, on

  occasion, wiped out entire urban settlements. The soldier Jakob Walter

  reported that many of the towns “not only were completely stripped

  [of provisions] but were also half- burned.”29 In the provincial capital

  of Vitebsk, 2,415 residents (half of them Jews) died in the war and an

  estimated 1.5 mi
llion rubles’ worth of property was destroyed (of which

  67 percent belonged to Jews). Minsk county may have endured the

  highest deaths, an estimated 55,500, but the numbers were not much

  lower in the surrounding territories. Witnesses recalled that more than

  15,000 corpses were buried under the ice in the Nemen River. Roughly

  1,000 charred bodies were found in Snipishki and an additional 5,000

  in Antokol’. In Grodno province, the death totals exceeded 4,000 and

  4

  44

  the Velizh affair

  the destruction of property was estimated at 29 million rubles, while its

  neighbor Mogilev endured 33.5 million rubles’ worth of damage. The

  same was true, to a lesser degree, for the counties of Vil’na, Kovno, and

  Tel’shi.30

  Velizh experienced the full brunt of the war, with 90 percent of all

  homes heavily damaged by fires and looting, and it continued to deal

  with the aftereffects for many years to come.31 The heavy loss of livestock and repeated crop failures during and after the war resulted in diminished food supplies. In the years 1821– 1822, a devastating famine swept

  through the region, causing widespread population loss. One provincial

  official reported that “many of the inhabitants [in Vitebsk province]

  were crippled from hunger,” estimating that one hundred people died

  of malnutrition and ninety- eight more were on the verge of death. The

  loss of income due to lackluster agricultural production led to a sharp

  decline in living standards and life expectancy.

  The famine hit the peasantry particularly hard, although it trau-

  matized everyone, including the townspeople and nobility. It was not

  uncommon for people from all walks of life, dressed in tattered clothing,

  to beg for handouts when they could not find anything to eat. The harsh

  winter exacerbated the situation. In February 1822, at least forty- three

  peasants succumbed to hunger while huddling together in an empty

  provincial post office to escape from the cold. In a shelter for the home-

  less in Vitebsk, three or four people died every night from hunger or

  illness; the rest slept on dirt floors, where the air quality was particularly poor. As the province sank into despair from grain shortages, officials

  resorted to desperate measures to contain the crisis from reaching epi-

  demic proportions. To stop the spread of contagion and disease, the

 

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