CHAPTER XII: A VISIT WITH PETER KROPOTKIN

• AUTHOR: Thomas B. Eyges
• DATE: 1944.00.00
• ORIGINAL PUBLICATION: Beyond the Horizon: The Story of a Radical Immigrant
• SOURCE: N/A
• NOTE: None
• ALTERNATE VERSIONS: N/A

Mot was then a young man of twenty-seven, with a wife and three children. To be able to give more time to the "movement" and to save his health, which was failing owing to the hard work of his trade, he procured a position as agent for an industrial life insurance company. A large brass plate attached to the door of his house announced to the world his important status in society. With a book of names of policy-holders, applications in his pocket, and a pencil behind his ear, he started on his great mission of collecting a penny, twopence and threepence from poor women, who were, even at that price, in arrears. He was also to find new customers and assure them that by paying threepence or maybe sixpence a week, they will not be stewed, or preserved like pickles when they died, but would be buried with all pomp and ceremony -- two or three pounds worth.

He was fairly successful in his new venture and had much more time for himself, with more time for reading.

Among other great Anarchist proponents, like Proudhon, Reclus, Jean Grave, and others, Peter Kropotkin was the outstanding authority. A great scientist and a great humanitarian, he propounded his ideas in a most popular, interesting, though learned way. In addition to Kropotkin, Mot also admired Peretz and Ibsen. In his youthful aspirations, he had always wished that he could meet his heroes in person. J.L. Peretz and Henrik Ibsen, who were famous symbolic writers, were out of his reach, but the day came when he was to meet Prince Peter Kropotkin.

The funds for the publication of the Worker's Friend were exhausted. The printer refused to release the forms with the type until he was paid. The group, at a special meeting, decided to invite Kropotkin to lecture and thereby raise the necessary funds. Mot, the only one in the group who could spare the time for the mission of visiting Kropotkin and explaining the situation, readily accepted the mission.

One day, of that same week, Mot dressed in his best -- silk hat, Prince Albert suit, gloves and walking-stick, took the train at Euston station for Bromley, Kent, where Kropotkin resided.

In the train, on the way to Bromley, Mot was deep in thought, experiencing a peculiar feeling. He was on a mission to visit a great man, a Prince, born of the Russian Royal Family, raised in luxury and splendor. Kropotkin was given the best education possible in those days. He was given the opportunity to rise to great social heights, yet he chose to give up all that and turned instead to the extreme left, to consecrate his life to humanity's cause, particularly the cause of the peasant and laboring class. What strange twists and turns destiny takes in the life of an individual and often also in society, Mot was thinking, as his train rapidly approached its destination.

At the door he was met by Mrs. Kropotkin, who informed him, that her husband was taking a nap and asked him to wait. Mot was invited into the living room of a small cottage, wherein lived the Prince, who had given up the Czar's palace, "with all its pomp", which he "hated so", as he states in his Autobiography [Memoirs --ed.] of a Revolutionist, in preference to a modest life, where he could peacefully write his great scientific works.

While waiting, Mot observed the neat, simply furnished room. Opposite him was a tall glass case containing a variety of specimen of flies, butterflies, and other large insects -- all held by pins, stuck on the back of the case. On shelves, in the same case, there was a large assortment of small stones, in different sizes and colors. On the bottom shelf, was a small bee hive, an assortment of small pieces of metal and the section of a tree with its root.

In a short while, the old gentleman came into the room with outstretched hand.

--"Have you been waiting here long?" he asked in English and smiling good naturedly, looked squarely at his visitor, as they shook hands.

--"You speak Russian, don't you?"

--"I do" -- said Mot.

--"Well, this is (prekrasno) very nice. Now we will have a chat in the language that I like to talk most." He said those words with a beautiful Russian accent and to Mot every word sounded like good music. At that instant Kropotkin's wife came in and, turning quickly to her, he said:

--"I have the pleasure of introducing a comrade from London and he speaks Russian, too."

Smiling, she shook hands with Mot.

--"And now" -- the Prince continued -- "we will have tea, won't we, Sophia?"

--"Konecho", (Surely) she said -- backing gracefully towards the door -- "and we shall have it right away." She went out.

The Russian Sage became active. He brought over a small low table, which he placed in the centre of the room, then he brought cups and saucers, a bowl with lump sugar and lemon. At the table he asked Mot questions, about how long he was from Russia (the fact that Mot came from Moscow pleased him most), how he like London, what he was doing, how the movement was going in London, etc. Mot noticed -- during his answers -- that although he nodded kindly, yet there was close scrutiny in the eyes of the scientist.

The Princess came in with a steaming tea pot and was about to pour it into the cups, when the Prince stopped her.

--"No, no! (pozshalusta) please, I'll take care of this. You know I like to do it. Now, you sit down like a good little girl and have tea with us" -- and so saying, he poured out the tea. She left the room and quickly returned with a bowl of cookies, which she placed on the table, seating herself at the same time. Mot preferred to listen rather than talk. He commented on the charm of life in the country and how cozy was the cottage.

--"Yes, we like it here." -- the host remarked. "It is so quiet and peaceful. We take walks during the day. I work mostly evenings, very often late into the night. That is why I take a nap in the afternoon; besides, I have not felt well of late. I suppose we 'sinners' do not do the right thing by ourselves and nature punishes us for it."

Tea was over. The hostess had cleared the table. Mot offered cigarettes to his host.

--"No thank you, I don't smoke, but you may. And now let us turn (po dellu) to business. You have undoubtedly some mission in coming out here, to see me, have you not?"

--"Yes, I have," replied Mot, "I have a mission -- a request from the 'Workers' Group'." He went on to explain at length the plight of the Anarchist organ, which was the main spring of the movement, that the publication of the weekly might have to stop. The comrades felt, that by his coming to London to lecture, it would surely be a moral and material success, a lift to the paper.

The Russian Prince and apostle of the Social Revolution listened very attentively to Mot's plan, occasionally smoothing his big, curly beard.

--"And what would you suggest as my subject?"

--"Anarchism and Social Democracy" -- was Mot's somewhat timid reply.

Kropotkin hesitated for a moment.

;(Sozshaleyu) I'm sorry, but it cannot be done. First, because I'm not feeling very well, as I have already said, but that alone, perhaps, would not be the obstacle. My coming to London to convert the Social Democrats into Anarchists does not seem to me to be the right step. Dear comrade, we are not missionaries, we are idealists. Let them be Social Democrats if they so choose, that's their business. Our field of activity is among the workers, to help build up revolutionary trade-unions, which will in time do away with the system of which they are victims. 'Eto dyelo nashy.' Now comes the question of assistance to the Worker's Friend, which, to my sorrow, I cannot read, [Workers' Friend was most likely Arbeter Fraint, a Yiddish paper --ed.] but, which I am told, is a very good medium of enlightenment." So saying, he arose, reached in to a bureau and returning to the table, handed two sovereigns to Mot.

--"Take this with you (tovarisch) comrade, and tell the comrades in London, that this is my contribution towards the sustaining fund for the Workers' Friend."

Mot looked at the gold pieces and then at the host and said:

--"But I did not come here for this..."

--"Chorosho, chorosho, ya znayu -- I know, take it along just the same."

Mot took leave of the Prince and his wife and departed. That visit gave Mot plenty to think about. Here was a man, a great scientist, a Prince, a direct heir to the Russian throne, who forsook all his opportunities for a life of luxury, for an Ideal -- the betterment of humanity. In his heart and mind Mot admired and almost worshiped the man and these very thoughts greatly strengthened his idealism. Yet Mot could not possibly have imagined that in less than thirty-five years, Kropotkin's dream of the abolition of czardom in Russia, would become a reality and that Kropotkin would return to Russia, to his native Moscow, only to die soon after, in poverty and obscurity. Such is destiny... No man has ever lived to see his promised land of milk and honey.

Last Updated: 2008.12.10