Rural famine of 1891

The Azov Memorial" calmly sailed through the Sea of Japan, Nicolai in addition to the accompanying brigade with a few familiar officers to play poker, but also to find someone to chat and drink vodka!

Playing poker while drinking always gave Nikolai a feeling of lightness, probably due to the former body of the average amount of alcohol.

In May, three warships arrived in Vladivostok, another more affectionate name for Vladivostok.

When he set foot in the nominal "motherland", Nikolai had a trance-like feeling, mixed with a sense of attachment to the motherland and a sense of alienation from a strange country, which wonderfully coexisted in Nikolai's thoughts.

Earlier in Japan, Nikolai had first awakened in Otsu, and had been in the cabin of the ship when he awakened for the second time.

Despite the fact that Emperor Mutsuhito, or Emperor Meiji of Japan, had bent over backwards to bow to him, in reality Nicolai still had little much actual sense of who he was.

Too distant, too unreal, Nikolai had never imagined that he would ever cross over and become the Crown Prince of the Russian Empire.

But at this moment, his heart was struck by the grand welcome organized by the Governor of the Primorsky Governor's District and the Governor of Primorsky Province.

The Tsar has always occupied a weighty position in Russian culture, although the Tsar is far away from St. Petersburg, but he is the people's heart of the father, undoubtedly by God's authority to rule the whole of Russia's land of the supreme ruler, in the hearts of the lower class people in the patriarchal system of law in the patriarchal like a symbol.

Although it was already 1891, for the level of education in Russia, the society was still full of superstition and mysticism, so the tsar still had the image of half man, half god, many peasants believed that the tsar's care could cure all diseases and even bring the dead back to life.

The Tsar so, as the Tsar's eldest son, the Crown Prince Nicholas, naturally also enjoy the Tsar's aura shrouded in worship.

When Nicholas looked out, thousands of peasants flocked to Vladivostok city on both sides of the avenue, neatly facing Nicholas's car, crossing the Orthodox cross and kneeling en masse, the kind of what Ukhtomsky said, "people and tsar beyond the love of the class," can be really felt for a moment.

In the midst of this overwhelming shock, Nicholas participated in the equally grand ceremony of laying the foundation stone of the Great Siberian Railway in Vladivostok.

"Construction of the Siberian Railroad has officially begun."

After a while, Nicholas, who had fallen into the state of a reachable duck, slowly stifled the words.

"Precisely, Your Highness." Dukhovskoy, the governor of Amur province, who was among the group of officials accompanying Nicholas, replied, "The wings of the Russian eagle will extend vastly across all of Asia, and it is indisputable that in the future we are sworn to annex these regions, and that from now on Asia will be synonymous with Asiatic Russia."

"..." Nicholas frowned "What is the population of the Far Eastern Primorye?"

"About less than two million people."

"Then close to our region of Manchuria."

"That ... your highness" Dukhovskoy replied, still cautiously stiff, "according to our estimates, there are at least six million Chinese in the Manchurian region."

"So how are you going to rule over so many Chinese? Hmm?"

Nikolai was completely unable to understand what was going on in the minds of these Russians, Tsarist Russia's territory covered more than 22 million square kilometers, but the population was now only 120 million, and still thinking about what to occupy Asian Russia.

Not afraid to eat and hold on to death?

Listened to Nicholas simply want to laugh, and even remembered a certain classic clip.

You say that Tsarist Russia has changed how many tsars one by one?

Change over the felling la?

The change of soup is not a change of medicine, ah?

What level is Russia at now?

Gray animals that only engage in human warfare and shoot in line.

You've got Nicholas I fighting the Crimean War.

Can he fight? No, he can't. He's not capable of it, you know?

We're going to lose to the Japanese next.

Gee, England and France lose the Japanese, then the World War.

Next it's into the basement to eat bullets.

Don't even have a face.

"This ..."

Dukhovskoy was just blowing off steam as a result Nikolai got serious with him, which made the scene fall into speechlessness for a while.

"Ahem ... His Highness was attacked in Japan and thus wishes to punish those Japanese macaques, so the Qing people are our potential allies."

The person who mediated the awkward atmosphere of the scene was Duke Ukhtomsky, who explained the reason for Nikolai's anger as hatred towards Japan.

"Ah, ah, so that's how it is, those Japanese are uncivilized yellow-skinned monkeys."

"Yes, yes, if we're going to war against Japan, we should indeed enlist the friendship of the Qing court."

"Ah yes, yes, yes."

Under Uhtomsky's guidance, the many accompanying officials who concurred also snorted their unhappiness away.

On the other hand, Nikolai, who had lost some synchronization with his predecessor, now spoke after readjusting his mindset, "His Majesty's Father's policy of peace is invaluable, and we shouldn't let the blood of the Russians be wasted on the lands of the far east."

Despite the fact that Nicholas remembered Alexander III as a Russian version of Hercules who had stepped out of an ancient Greek myth, the Russian hulk with a heroic spirit was quite peace-loving.

During his reign so far, the Russian Empire had only launched one small war in Central Asia, aimed at annexing Turkmenistan.

"His Highness is truly homely ..."

"His Highness loves his people like a son ..."

Leaving aside the rainbow fart part of these Russian bureaucrats, Nikolai's trip to Vladivostok was only two short days, and he was about to leave without even knowing much about what the port city of Vladivostok looked like.

The news about the assassination of the Crown Prince Nicholas in Otsu, Japan worried both the father Alexander III and the Empress Maria, and the parents, who were far away from St. Petersburg, were looking forward to the early return of their eldest son.

Under these circumstances, the people in the traveling group did not care about the natural scenery along the way and had to rush headlong.

"There the spring breeze is intoxicated, there the grass is green ... "But in the midst of the busyness of the tour group passed by the shores of Lake Baikal, Nikolai deliberately asked to stop for a period of time in the crystal-clear lake," ... We linger, on the shores of Lake Baikal ..."

Nikolai hummed in a small voice a melody he was familiar with from a previous life, somewhat fitting at the moment, but more than anything else, it was overwhelmingly melancholy.

Strange, distant, disconnected, that was the depression that filled Nikolai's mind right now, he sometimes dreamed and would return to that familiar country, but everything was gone by the time he woke up.

Edward? No! Nikolai!

To tell the truth, when he was on board the "Azov Memorial", he had been shocked to see the Russians in the mirror, but now he was not surprised.

But that kind of sadness of parting, the longer the time passed, the more intense, and finally came to the shores of Lake Baikal, through a familiar song in Nikolai's past life broke out.

Am I Nikolai?

Of course not!

Nikolai vehemently denied inheriting wholesale all the thoughts, memories, pursuits and hobbies of his predecessor Nikolai, and he could not and would not at all re-emerge as the Nikolai II of history.

Who am I then? What am I supposed to do?

Nicholas felt a little ridiculous, having just acquired this body with the vow to become the greatest Tsar of all time, but now memories, reality and souls were clearly in conflict.

Englishman, Russian, Edward, Nikolai ...

Two identities, exterior and interior, have left his mind in turmoil.

And the promise ...

The gash on his forehead was gone, but the invisible agony on his forehead was fresh in Nikolai's mind whenever he thought of those two engagements.

"Nikki? What ... why are you crying ...?"

Although he didn't know why Crown Prince Nikolai strongly requested to stay at the shores of Lake Baikal, the peaceful and empty secluded atmosphere when looking at the vast lake that was like an ocean where you couldn't see the other side of the lake also made the crowd marvel.

Only Nikolai took a small bench and sat stolidly by the lake for half an hour.

The sullen cousin, Prince George, walked up and tapped Nikolai on the shoulder to ask him how he was doing, only to be surprised by Nikolai's calm countenance as he turned back to the lake and the tears streaming from his eyes.

"Alas ..." former Nikolai is an emotional, introverted people, emotional infection under the tears soon could not control down, but this is also very good venting at this moment Nikolai's inner sadness, "the thought of leaving home so long time, miss my parents very much."

"Oh! I see." George nodded in understanding, "But Nikki! We'll soon be back in the warmth of home!"

Borrowing George's handkerchief, Nicola dried the tear tracks from her face and was much calmer inside.

Nikolai's tears were a farewell to the past, to Edward and Nikolai's funeral.

He was neither the former Nikolai nor the Edward of the past now.

If in the beginning the promise had been a straitjacket imposed on Nikolai, now Nikolai had fully accepted, identified with, and was ready to live up to the promise.

It is true that the modernized country within Nikolai's heart cannot return, but he, as a modern man with an open mind, is perfectly capable of bringing that prosperous life to the Russians in advance.

Because he was the Crown Prince, he was the undisputed first heir to the throne of supreme ruler of the Russian Empire.

Nicholas could not agree with the tyranny, feudalism and backwardness of Tsarist Russia, not to mention the face of this foreigner Nicholas left the Russian empire regardless to support the Manchurian Qing Dynasty, such a foreign feudal dynasty.

If Nikolai could indeed do all that he had promised, then he wouldn't mind giving back the abundance of the Republic's citizens to the 5,000 year old land he had loved.

"Begin." Returning to the wagon train a refreshed Nikolai nodded to the brigade crowd, "Let us depart!"

Nikolai's journey through Siberia traveled at a fast pace, first arriving in Irkutsk, then visiting Tomsk, Tobolsk, Surgut, and Omsk in that order.

According to the old Russian tradition, triumphal arches were erected in the large towns through which the heir to the throne passed, but these were wooden.

In addition to this, Russian officials organized a number of present presentations by the people.

Everything seemed to be going well until Nicholas arrived in Orenburg.

The city of Orenburg was founded in 1735 as a bridgehead for Russia's colonial expansion into Central Asia, and passing through the countryside in 1891 Nikolai noticed something unusual.

"Here ..."

As far as the eye could see, the countryside was a scene of disrepair and weariness.

Although the peasants were also standing on both sides of the road to welcome the Crown Prince's carriage, what was clearly visible were children with dry limbs and round bellies, adults with yellow faces, and some of the thatched roofs on the modest village houses in the distance were no longer there.

The former Nikolai didn't have many memories of the countryside, he'd just stayed in the Imperial Village, but there too he was far from real folk, but he had an overly naive confidence that he loved the people, and they loved him.

"Stop, I want to get off and look around."

The Crown Prince's order stopped the wagon train in its tracks, and Nikolai stepped into the dry, dusty dirt road with his military boots.

The peasants just instinctively flocked to the scene and then crossed themselves and knelt down, the only one standing amongst the crowd was the Crown Prince Nicholas.

"What happened here?"

When Nicholas spoke, the peasants looked at each other in disbelief, and a village priest stepped forward, also disheveled and in rags, looking as if he had been struggling with hunger and poverty for a long time.

"Your Imperial Highness," the priest said as he cupped and kissed the back of Nicholas' hand after a trembling curtsy to him, "there has been very little rain this year, and the harvest in the early fall was very poor."

"So the harvest is going to fail this year?"

Nikolai knew nothing about farming activities, but the first thing he thought when the priest said the harvest was bad was that it was failing.

"Indeed."

The priest said bluntly, but an official from the Governor's district of Orenburg who had come down with him countered, "This is merely an isolated phenomenon, Your Highness, the rainy season ended exceptionally quickly this year, and drought may be present in some areas, but overall the situation speaks for itself."

Nikolai was noncommittal, and he turned to reach out and point to the simple earth-walled thatched huts in the distance.

"What's going on there? I see there are people living inside those houses with the roofs stripped off."

"Your ... Highness," the priest said with some hesitation, "thanks to His Majesty's graciousness, we've been doing quite well with the previous years' bountiful harvests."

It sounded a bit sarcastic, but Nicholas just stared at the priest.

"And this year?"

"..."

"Your Highness, if you go to the next village you will be able to find that the failure of the harvest here is only part of the ..."

"The next what? The village of Pojangin?"

Nicholas knew but he did not say anything, in Siberia along the way, Nicholas saw these bureaucrats to him whitewash the trick, this is in fact, there is nothing to be done, difficult to those who traveled with the small officials will not help the actual situation, but now this scene can be said to break through the lower limit of Nicholas as a modern man can envision.

"... this ... your highness!"

Nikolai didn't care about that anymore, he stepped forward and opened his legs, the truth was right in front of his eyes, but he once upon a time didn't know whether he was truly blind or pretending to be blind.

The situation is even worse than Nikolai's prediction, it turns out that the peasants who came out to greet the Crown Prince has been the best looking part of the place, many four sides leakage of the dilapidated house house to take the boards used as a bed lying a set of extremely weak body.

The skin of these Russian peasants was earthy gray, wrinkled, and despite their young age many looked as old as sixty or seventy.

The bones were generally thin and jagged, but the torsos and bellies were so swollen that in some places they were ulcerated and the stench was foul.

"Those who can breathe can only drink a little fluids, and those who can't even breathe probably have only seven days to live."

The priest said with immense heartache as he crossed the Orthodox cross.

Nikolai could see that in the farming families that hadn't yet starved to death, only the father could afford to wear a garment cobbled together and sewn from tattered fabric, the mother could only put on a sack to cover her withered body, and the children were mostly pale with unnaturally edematous bellies.

"Now will you tell me the truth?"

"Your Highness, the thatched roofs were taken down and stored as fuel for the winter, it's all steppe here, there are no trees for tinder, and with the poor harvest this year, there isn't much straw."

The priest who had followed Nicholas all the way on his inspection waited until the end to murmur the truth to the Crown Prince.

Nicholas also saw that the farmers who lacked heat chose to live under one roof with their livestock, and the hygienic conditions brought about by the cohabitation of humans and animals made Nicholas' stomach turn.

"Why is this happening?"

An incredulous Nicola couldn't believe that the priest had just said that this was a situation left over from the previous three years of sub-par harvests.

"Because it's all been taken away by the officials and the lords."

The Russian peasants who couldn't help but start complaining told Nicholas what had happened and hoped that the Crown Prince would do something for them.

The collection of taxes in the Russian countryside was now done by the police of the Ministry of the Interior, and in order to reach the tax target, the police generally used intimidation and arrests of peasants to achieve their goals.

If a farmer is too poor to pay the tax, the police will force him to borrow money or sell whatever he can, and if he refuses, the police will send him to the county jail to be detained.

The county court generally punished delinquent farmers with whipping with tree strips.

Even because of the system of serial guarantees, or in other words, guilt by association, on rural taxes, it is conceivable that the peasants were plunged into abject poverty in large numbers.

"Those police are bad, the tax office people still allow us to owe taxes, when the police come they know to rob us!"

The peasants were indignant, but could do nothing.

"The grain that was collected was piled up in the barn at the railroad station," said an old widow, weeping silently; "my Vasily went to steal it because he was so hungry, and was shot by the soldiers stationed at the barn."

"A village community a few dozen miles away had people going to pickpocket a train, and when the provincial government found out about it, they sent Cossacks to suppress it, and half of the people lost their lives, and of the other half who are alive at least half will starve to death."

The peasants who still had the strength to speak told the Crown Prince about the situation in a chorus.

But Nicholas just felt overwhelmed.

"Why is food still being shipped out when famine has struck here?"

Nikolai knew he should go and do something about it, but he didn't know how, he was a bit clueless, but a kind of anger overflowed a bit as he arrived at the train station on the edge of the county after leaving the countryside.

"It's for exporting grain for foreign currency."

The man who answered Nikolai's query was Ukhtomsky, who had been sitting in another wagon earlier and had only learned afterward that Nikolai had been in close proximity to the poor peasants in the village community.

"Export? You want to export while starving to death?"

Nikolai looked on in disbelieving shock as he watched the grain piled up all over the barn, where a train of steam locomotives was belching out billows of smoke to pull the sweaty output of the Russian peasants beyond the disaster zone where they were plunged into starvation.

"Yes, Vishnegradsky did say that." Ukhtomsky, who was one of the Ministers of the Interior, nodded, he didn't mind taking a shot at the Ministry of Finance, infighting in different departments of the Russian government was rare, "Our Finance Minister used to have the slogan 'We don't want to eat, we want to export!' ."

"But I remember that the Finance Minister's salary was 15,000 rubles a year, I think."

Nikolai vaguely remembered that Vishnegorodsky had hosted a banquet in 1890 to celebrate the end of Russia's fiscal deficit, and Nikolai had been the guest of honor, but because his predecessor Nikolai had been too social not to have a meaningful chat with the minister outside of polite conversation.

"Precisely, and that does not include various subsidies, holding part-time jobs in private business and property income." Ukhtomsky added fuel to the fire, "The annual household income of these affected farmers does not exceed 100 rubles."

"And what can we do? Do we watch Father's people starve to death?"

Nikolai asked eagerly.

"Well, the specifics depend on the extent of the disaster, and the Ministry of Internal Affairs has jurisdiction over the administrative powers of the provincial governors." Ukhtomsky explained, "The local governors will summarize the situation and report it to Durnovo, the Minister of Internal Affairs."

Damn Nikolai.

Never before had Nicholas felt so ill-educated as he did now, his predecessor's uneducation was almost all-encompassing, especially when it came to specific administrative perceptions, his predecessor, Nicholas, as the Crown Prince, didn't even know how many departments and several ministers there were in the local, centralized, administrative framework of his own country, the Russian Empire.

"So you can guarantee to return these wagons of grain to that village?"

Before boarding the train for the journey, Nicholas repeatedly asked the magistrate present, a landed nobleman having a commission about the Crown Prince.

"Yes, Your Highness. I swear on my honor that your zeal to love and care for your people will be passed on."

"Very well."

Nikolai paid for several wagons of food out of his own pocket to send back to the village community he had encountered in despair.

Though he did not yet know the extent of this crop failure, he could at least do what he could to aid some of the poor people he had encountered.

Sitting on the luxurious royal train, the end of Nikolai's touring journey picked up speed once again, flying backwards in the light of the blue sky, endless wilderness and the green and yellow Russian earth.

　　More than a month later than originally planned, Crown Prince Nicholas had finally finished his year and a half long study tour in the East and arrived in St. Petersburg, the present-day capital of the Russian Empire.