Other prisoners, on the contrary, circled around me, suspecting I had brought money with me. They immediately started to fawn on me, began teaching me how to wear my new fetters, got me—for money, of course—a little chest with a lock for putting away the prison things I had already received and some of the linen I had brought to prison with me. The very next day they stole it and drank up the money. One of them later became very devoted to me, though he never stopped stealing from me on every suitable occasion. He did it without any embarrassment, almost unconsciously, as if out of duty, and it was impossible to be angry with him.

Among other things, they taught me that I should have my own tea, that it would not be bad if I acquired a teapot for myself, and meanwhile they borrowed someone else’s for me and recommended me a cook, saying that for thirty kopecks a month he would cook whatever I liked, if I wished to eat separately and buy my own provisions … Naturally, they borrowed money from me, and on the first day alone they each came to borrow three times.

In prison they generally took a dark and unfavorable view of former noblemen.

Even though they were already stripped of all their property rights and were completely equal to all the other prisoners—the prisoners would never recognize them as their comrades. This happened not even from conscious prejudice, but just so, quite sincerely, unconsciously. They sincerely considered us noblemen, even though they themselves liked to taunt us with our fall.

“No, enough now! Knock it off! Through Moscow Pyotr used to strut, now Pyotr’s stuck here on his butt”—and suchlike pleasantries.

They loved to watch our sufferings, which we tried not to let them see. In the beginning it was especially hard for us at work, because we were not as strong as they were, and we could not do our full share. There is nothing more difficult than entering into the simple people’s confidence (especially such people) and earning their love.

There were several noblemen in the prison. First of all, there were five Poles. I will speak of them sometime separately. The convicts disliked the Poles terribly, even more than the noble Russian prisoners. The Poles (I am speaking only of the political criminals) treated them with a sort of refined, offensive politeness, were extremely uncommunicative, and were quite unable to conceal their loathing for them, and the latter realized it very well and paid them back in kind.

It took me almost two years of living in the prison before I gained the sympathy of some of the convicts. But the greater part of them finally came to like me and recognized me as a “good” man.

Of Russian noblemen, besides myself, there were four. One was a mean and scoundrelly little creature, terribly depraved, a spy and informer by profession. I had heard about him even before I got to prison and from the first days broke off all relations with him. Another was that same parricide I have already spoken of in my notes. The third was Akim Akimych; rarely have I seen such an odd bird as this Akim Akimych. He is sharply imprinted in my memory. He was tall, lean, weak-witted, terribly illiterate, extremely pedantic, and punctilious as a German. The convicts laughed at him; but some were even afraid to have anything to do with him, because of his carping, demanding, and cantankerous character. From the first step he chummed them up, swore at them, even fought. He was phenomenally honest. He would notice some injustice and immediately mix into it, though it was none of his business. He was naïve in the extreme; for instance, he sometimes scolded the prisoners, reproaching them for being thieves, and earnestly entreated them not to steal. He had been a sublieutenant in the Caucasus. He and I fell in with each other from the first day, and he told me his case at once. He had started in the Caucasus as a junker6 in an infantry regiment, ground away for a long time, was finally made an officer, and was sent to some fortress as a senior commander. One allied princeling in the neighborhood set fire to his fortress and attacked it by night, but the attack failed. Akim Akimych played it clever and did not give any sign that he knew who the malefactor was.