The Enchanted Wanderer and Other Stories

Leskov spent eight years in Kiev, made friends with students and professors at the university through his uncle, sat in on courses, read widely, learned Ukrainian and Polish, and incidentally witnessed the building of the famous Nikolaevsky Chain Bridge over the Dniepr River, designed by the Anglo-Irish engineer Charles Blacker Vignoles. This was the first multi-span suspension bridge in Europe and at the time the longest in the world. The workers and the work on the bridge have a central place in his story “The Sealed Angel” (1873), and though he deliberately avoids naming the city, the setting is vividly evoked. The directors of the actual project were English, as in Leskov, and Vignoles’s letters and papers (which, of course, Leskov never saw) describe the same natural disasters, the floods and ice damage, that play such a major part in the story. In 1853, the year that the bridge was officially opened, Leskov married Olga Smirnova, the daughter of a Kiev merchant.

The suffering and the corruption Leskov witnessed daily in the system of military conscription under the emperor Nicholas I were counterbalanced by the intellectual breadth and moral idealism he met with in the people of his uncle’s circle. He was profoundly influenced by a number of them, in particular by a man he refers to in an autobiographical note as “the well-known statistician-abolitionist Dmitri Petrovich Zhuravsky.” Zhuravsky (1810–1856) was an economist who not only advocated the abolition of serfdom in theory but also practiced it in reality, buying out house serfs and setting them free. At his death, he left his small inheritance for the continuation of that practice. Writing to his friend the Slavophile publicist Ivan Aksakov on December 2, 1874, Leskov said of Zhuravsky: “he was all but the first living person who, in the days of my youth in Kiev, made me understand that virtue exists not only in abstractions.”

Another of his Kievan acquaintances, and one closer to him in age, had an even stronger influence on the young Leskov. This was Stepan Stepanovich Gromeka (1823–1877), a nobleman from Poltava who was attached to the governor-general’s staff when they met in 1852. Gromeka had a rather strange career. Politically he began as a liberal, advocating reform rather than revolution. He defended the monarchy while hoping to improve it. In 1857–1858 he published a series of satirical articles on the police in the prominent Moscow journal The Russian Messenger. He also contributed to the liberal Petersburg monthly Notes of the Fatherland

, and to the radical journal The Bell, edited in London by the expatriate Alexander Herzen. But his journalistic career was confined to some five or six years. By 1862 he had turned against Herzen, and in the later 1860s he went back into government service, ending as governor of Siedlce province in Russian Poland, where he campaigned for the absorption of the Uniate (Eastern Roman Catholic) Church into the Russian Orthodox Church and was notorious for his brutal treatment of peasants who resisted.

Leskov followed a very different path from Gromeka’s, but in his “Note on Himself” he acknowledged that their friendship during his years in Kiev “had a decisive influence on Leskov’s subsequent destiny. The example of Gromeka, who abandoned his government service and went to work for the Russian Society of Shipping and Trade, induced Leskov to do the same.” So it was that Leskov left his position in the recruiting office and went to work for Alexander Scott. But in 1860 Scott’s firm suffered reverses and he could no longer keep his nephew employed. Leskov returned to Kiev, and here the influence of Gromeka again proved crucial. Gromeka had preceded Leskov into business; he had also preceded him into journalism. In the early 1860s it was Gromeka who connected Leskov with such prominent Moscow and Petersburg editors as Mikhail Katkov of The Russian Messenger

, Stepan Dudyshkin and Andrei Kraevsky of Notes of the Fatherland, Mikhail and Fyodor Dostoevsky of Time

and Epoch (“The Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk” was first published in Epoch in 1865). In the same “Note on Himself,” he confessed that “Leskov’s decisive enslavement to literature was again the work of that same Gromeka. He has been writing ever since.”