Our Old Man and the Sea

Russian history is full of examples of vain, short-sighted rulers who treated their subjects as pawns — useful but, in the end, expendable. All too often, this official callousness has taken a heavy toll, robbing Russia of her best and brightest and leading the country to ruin.

Nowhere was this more apparent than during the Crimean War (1853-1856), in which a great many Russian commanders lost their lives. The ultra-reactionary Emperor Nicholas I began this war against Turkey merely to strengthen Russia’s position as the “Gendarme of Europe,” thinking that domination over the Black Sea, as the gateway to the East, would ensure him mastery over Europe as well.

Unfortunately, his political pretensions were not backed up either by diplomatic savvy (he counted, mistakenly, on France and England not interfering in the war) or by technical knowledge (he considered the sail fleet the epitomy of military achievement and dismissed screw motors as a passing fad). These blunders cost Russia dearly, and eventually even Nicholas saw the writing on the wall. Disillusioned and in despair, he died suddenly in 1855 after it had become clear that Sevastopol (a strategically crucial Black Sea port, which to this day is being disputed by Russia and Ukraine) would fall and that his forces would suffer inevitable defeat. When the smoke around the city cleared, there were hundreds of Russian casualties, among them the fleet commanders Istomin, Kornilov and Nakhimov.

Pavel Stepanovich Nakhimov, Russia’s last great loss in the war, was legendary for his kindness and generosity. He never married and devoted his life to the fleet and his sailors. On his ships, corporal punishment, the basis of military discipline in those days, was virtually unheard-of. During crucial battles, he placed great trust in the judgment of his men. The sailors, in turn, repaid his devotion, openly calling him otets rodnoi (our own father) and nash starik Pavel Stepanovich (our old man Pavel Stepanovich).

Nakhimov was born on July 5, 1802 into a noble family of modest means in the Smolensk region. In 1818, he graduated from the Naval Cadet Corps with top honors. He was not yet 16 when he received the rank of midshipman and a summons to the Phoenix brig on the Black Sea.

In 1822, the famous admiral Mikhail Lazarev (who by that time had circumnavigated the globe three times and participated in the Bellinsgauzen expedition, which discovered Antarctica) invited Nakhimov to serve on his frigate. Lazarev became Nakhimov’s mentor and friend, and later, when the former left to command the battleship Azov, Nakhimov went with him. The Azov went on to seal a Russian victory over the Turkish-Egyptian fleet in 1827. For his valor in this battle, Nakhimov was rewarded with the Cross of St. George and a promotion to lieutenant-captain. Later, during the Russo-Turkish War of 1828-1829, Nakhimov commanded the corvette Navarin and participated in the blockade of the Dardanelles.

In the years that followed, Nakhimov received many promotions and honors. But he is probably best known as the hero of Sinop. In November 1853, during the Crimean War, Nakhimov faced the main strength of the Turkish fleet commanded by Osman-Pasha in the Gulf of Sinop. The Russian fleet was badly outnumbered, but Nakhimov’s tactical skill, along with the trust he placed in his commanders, paid off. Over the course of three hours, Russian forces destroyed 15 of the enemy’s ships and all of its shore batteries. For this battle, essentially the last in the age of sailing vessels, Nakhimov received the Order of St. George.

The last page in his life, as well as the last page in the Crimean War, was the defense of Sevastopol. In this desperate last stand, the Russian fleet, made up of only 14 sailing vessels, 22 frigates and 40,000 soldiers, faced the combined might of Turkey, France and England (89 warships, 300 supply ships and 62,000 expeditionary corps). Nakhimov repeatedly requested reinforcements from land from the fleet commander, Admiral Menshikov. His messages were never answered. During the first attempt by British, French and Sardinian troops to take the city, Rear-Admiral Kornilov died in the fighting. During the second storming, Nakhimov himself perished, felled by a bullet in the head. He had just turned 53.

Nakhimov’s memory lives on in the hundreds of streets and schools, including preparatory institutes for naval officers, that bear his name. In 1950, three of these institutes — in Leningrad, Riga and Tbilisi — were united into one Nakhimov Institute in what is now St. Petersburg. There, 15 and 16-year-olds study for two years in preparation for entering either the Navy or a higher military institute.

Nakhimov is also remembered in the awards for outstanding military service established in his honor during World War II: the Orders of Nakhimov of the 1st and 2nd levels and the Nakhimov Medal. All this ensures that Nakhimov will not be forgotten. Even now, on the 195th anniversary of his birth, Nakhimov’s name continues to strike a chord in Russian hearts, conjuring up images of the old fleet and old-fashioned courage under fire.

Items in Brief

On July 6, the Russian Orthodox Church celebrates a day rich in both historical and Christian significance, when believers pay homage to the Vladimir Icon of the Virgin Mary. This holiday was established to commemorate Moscow’s  salvation from the invasion of the Hun Akhmet in 1480.

In a less elevated vein, the Moscow Telephone System celebrates its 115th anniversary on July 1. The first telephone station, where everything was done by hand, was installed in one of the capital’s central streets. The new-fangled idea caught on fast. In 1892, after only 10 years, there were already 1400 subscribers.

Speaking of improvements, 275 years ago this month, Peter I, that most innovative ruler, ordered that a road connecting his northern capital with Moscow be built. On July 8, 1722, construction of the Petersburg-Moscow Road began. It was made of dirt, in some places strengthened with log planking, and was referred to as the perspektivnaya doroga (the “forward-looking” road). In 1817, under Alexander I, the road was paved with crushed stone. Its length was over 700 km (about 440 miles). In 1834, it came to be called the Moscow Highway.

July is also rich in literary and artistic anniversaries. July 2 marks the 125th anniversary of the death of the Russian Slavist, Alexander Gilferding (1831-1872), who collected and studied bylinas (Russian epic folk songs about bogatyrs, or heros). His crowning achievement was the book “Onega Bylinas.” He wrote down the text to 318 bylinas while travelling around the Far North and Central Russia.

On the same day, 95 years ago, the sculptor Mark Antokolsky (1843-1902) died. His sculptural portraits of “Ivan the Terrible,” “Peter the First,” “Nestor the Chronicler,” and “Ermak” as well as his works “Christ in Front of the People’s Court,” and “Mephistopheles” won him wide recognition in Russia and around the world.

Equally popular, though in a different genre, the singer Sergei Lemeshev (1902-1977) was born 95 years ago, on July 10. Over almost half a century on the stage, he sang dozens of opera parts by Russian and foreign composers. His renditions of romansy (old-fashioned romantic songs), especially Tchaikovsky’s, were true masterpieces.

Also linked with a famous composer is poet Boris Kornilov (1907-1938), who was born on July 29th, 90 years ago. In spite of his many poems, he is most remembered for one that became a song for which Dmitry Shostakovich wrote the music. Extremely popular in the 1930s and 1940s, this song became something of a hymn to spring and youth.

Ironically, Kornilov’s own personal life was tragic. In 1938, he was arrested, accused of counterrevolutionary propaganda, and summarily shot. As one of his biographers wrote: this is “a bitter illustration on the portrait of a time when the revolution devoured its children, who with such inspiration went out to embrace ‘labor and love’.”

The communist regime left its mark on others as well. July 1 marks the 90th anniversary of the birth of Varlam Shalamov (1907-1982), a courageous writer and poet who spent 23 years — from 1929 to 1952 — in Soviet prisons and camps. He depicted these frightening experiences in the prose cycle “Kolymskie Tales” — published in the late 1980s in the famous journal Novy Mir [New World] — as well as in the poetry collection “Kolymskie Notebooks.”

On a lighter note, July 20 marks 110 years since the birth of artist Marc Chagall (1887-1985). This master of color charmed the world with his  biblical themes and fanciful folklore, which included flying brides and chickens. He was also an accomplished illustrator. Suffice it to mention his painting on the ceiling of the Paris Opera...

July 6 marks the 120th anniversary of the birth of another famous emigré to France, the writer Aleksei Remizov (1877-1957). He published over 80 books, 45 of which came out abroad. Remizov emigrated from Russia in 1921 and lived in Paris. A brave experimenter with form, he tended to use archaic syntax and vocabulary.

On the same day 100 years ago, another writer, Anatoly Mariengof (1897-1862), famous for prose and memoirs, was born. He was a friend of the poet Sergei Yesenin and wrote the memoirs of his friend. His well-known novels include “Cynics” and “A Shaven Man.”

Speaking of friends in high places, July 23rd is the 205th anniversary of Prince Peter Vyazemsky (1792-1878). A poet and  critic, he was also a friend of Pushkin’s and fought at the Battle of Borodino. While his early lyrics relate mainly to civil society, his later work indicates that he had his sights set on the monarchy.

While not quite so politically ambitious, landscape painter, Vasily Polenov (1844-1927), who died 70 years ago on July 18, did paint some lovely landscapes and household scenes. He also executed a series of canvases in honor of the earthly life of Jesus Christ and worked as a theater artist. And, speaking of landscape painters, July 29th marks 180 years since the birth of Ivan Aivazovsky (1817-1900), the master of sea landscapes (see story, page 6).

– Valentina Kolesnikova