In the winter of 1813 Nicholas marries Princess Mary and moves to Bald Hills with his wife, his mother, and Sonya. Within four years he has paid off remaining debts without selling any of his wife's property, and a small inheritance from a cousin lets him repay Pierre. By 1820 he can buy a small estate adjoining Bald Hills and is negotiating to buy back Otradnoe, his pet dream. Having started farming from necessity, he soon grows so devoted that it becomes his favourite and almost sole occupation. He is a plain farmer. He does not like innovations, especially the English ones then in vogue. He laughs at theoretical treatises, dislikes factories and expensive seed, and does not make a hobby of any particular branch. He always has the estate as a whole before his mind's eye. The chief thing is not nitrogen, oxygen, manures, or special ploughs, but the peasant labourer, the agent that makes those things effective. The serf seems not merely a tool but a judge of farming and an end in himself. At first Nicholas only pretends to direct while he learns their methods, speech, and judgment. Only when he can talk their language and feel akin to them does he begin boldly to manage, that is, to perform the duties demanded of him. The results are brilliant.
He does not allow himself to punish or reward merely because he feels inclined. He could not say by what standard he judges, but the standard is firm in his own mind. Often, speaking with vexation of some failure, he says, what can one do with our Russian peasants, and imagines he cannot bear them. Yet he loves their way of life with his whole soul, and for that reason has understood the one manner of farming that produces good results. Countess Mary is jealous of this passion and regrets that she cannot share it. She does not understand why he is so animated after a morning in the fields, why he admires Matthew Ermishin carting corn all night, why he smiles under his moustache when warm rain falls on thirsty oats.
When she speaks of the good work he is doing for his serfs, he is vexed. Not in the least. It never entered my head. That is poetry and old wives' talk, all that doing good to one's neighbour. What I want is that our children should not have to go begging. I must put our affairs in order while I am alive. Order and strictness are essential. And fairness, of course, for if the peasant is naked and hungry and has only one miserable horse, he can do no good either for himself or for me. All he does is fruitful, probably because he refuses to think he is doing good for virtue's sake. His means increase rapidly. Serfs from neighbouring estates come to beg him to buy them. Long after his death the memory is devoutly preserved: he was a master, the peasants' affairs first and then his own. He was not to be trifled with. In a word, he was a real master.
Coming Up in Chapter 345
One matter connected with his management sometimes worries Nicholas: his quick temper and his old hussar habit of making free use of his fists. Once in summer he sends for the village elder from Bogucharovo, accused of dishonesty, and goes out onto the porch to question him. After a few replies, cries and blows are heard.
