Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 15 - The East Wind

“What’s wrong?” one of the others asked uneasily. “Has the king died?”

The man looked up. “The king? Why, I wouldn’t mind ... sorry,” he said as he pulled himself together. “We’re going to be transferred. To Spres.”

“Where’s that?” one of the others asked flatly.

“It’s certainly not westward. Prepare yourselves to be split up: they’re going to divide us and send us to towns and villages east and northeast of here to prevent us from conspiring against them. As though we’re in any shape to start a revolt ... we who don’t even own the shirts on our backs! Look at us! Emaciated, full of lice and finished. How could we pose a danger for the tsar and his scum?”

Unconsciously Vendel took a step towards Corfitz Beck. The captain could not tell whether it was to protect him or whether Vendel was the one who needed protection. Perhaps it was just an expression of his wish for them not to be separated.

They managed to stick together during the process of separation and they were sent to one of the major cities. This was Kazan, an old centre of the Tatars, a long way east of Moscow. In every place where the Swedes were sent, they were free to move about as much as they liked within their allotted city or town, but they were never allowed to cross its boundaries. And it would be a lie to say that things improved at the new places they were sent to. Their religion worked against them. They were considered to be contemptuous infidels who deserved to be spat upon and degraded as much as possible.

They did not stay in their new places of residence for long. In the autumn of 1710 it was discovered that Swedish officers were planning a conspiracy in the city of Kazan. A deserter disclosed a huge escape plan among King Karl XII’s soldiers. Approximately two hundred Swedes, including Corfitz and Vendel, had planned to surprise the Russian forces in Kazan, bringing all the Swedes in the city together and marching as a single force down to Karl XII in Bender. There was a slight chance that they could have pulled it off, because the Russian Army was engaged in Finland, the Baltic provinces and Poland. But then, as we have seen, someone gave them away.

That was the final straw for the Russians. In the autumn of 1711 almost all the prisoners were sent east across the Ural Mountains to Siberia. The roads were not passable at that time of year, so they were shipped along rivers most of the way and the journey took several months, during which they felt that complete darkness had descended upon them. They were farther and farther away from any sense of hope.

Many grown men wept as they crossed the wide rivers. Others had faces frozen in a numbness that they had built up around their dreams. Many were in a state of utter lethargy.

By the time the journey ended, in Tobolsk, Vendel had turned seventeen. His heart overflowed with melancholy at the thought of his loved ones who knew nothing of his whereabouts, the ones back home from whom he was getting farther and farther away each time he was transferred. As far as he could tell, none of Karl XII’s soldiers would ever be able to leave Siberia again.

Chapter 3

A great surprise awaited them in Tobolsk.

Apparently they weren’t the first Swedes to arrive there. The Russians had made previous expeditions to the Swedish Baltic provinces and Finland and had taken prisoners there too, including men, women and children. For King Karl XII’s soldiers, who had endured harsh military life for so long, it was strange meeting women again, women whom you could talk to and associate with without disgrace.

They also soon discovered that the Swedish prisoners in Tobolsk had managed to create their own community in the city. There were now about fifteen hundred Swedes there, including the eight hundred newly arrived soldiers.

In some ways life was better for them in Tobolsk than it had been in the other places they had been sent to. Except for the times when the Russian officers got drunk and decided to go out and “fix those heathen Swedish pigs”. Things could get pretty wild then. The prisoners were constantly under close guard, so escape was impossible. If there was the least sign suggesting the possibility of a conspiracy or revolt, those involved would be sent even further eastward, where they would eventually disappear for good in the never-ending terrain of Siberia.

But the Swedes had to manage one way or another, so they started teaching each other their craft skills, and the things they produced were soon in high demand. They learned to dress like Russian farmers, since this not only proved to be a necessity in the harsh climate but also meant they avoided standing out from the crowd too much. It gave them more opportunities to move around safely. Some of them started producing distilled alcohol, but this wasn’t a popular move because there was only one person who had the exclusive rights to the profits made from distilling alcohol, and that was the tsar himself.

Some of the Swedes married Russian women and wanted to remain where they were. But most of them had a constant longing to return home. Home! Home to Sweden or to Karl XII’s army so that they could assist their king.

He must have had a strange personality. Despite the fact that he had managed to bring his country down with his numerous wars, despite the fact that he was never at home in his kingdom, he kept his status as a hero without peer among his soldiers and the generals of the time, and also among his enemies. Perhaps it was due to his ascetic lifestyle, strong will and ability to keep his word. He was intelligent and civilized, but when he made one of his rare public appearances he was the most taciturn of people. Particularly about himself. On a personal level he was, and remained, a riddle. But to the soldiers he was like a god. He always shared in their fortune and he never allowed himself any privileges that they didn’t have access to. He was stubborn and obstinate with his equals, however: everyone was expected to yield to the ideas that came out of his sharp brain and his well-devised war strategy.

So now, although half his army had been captured in enemy territory under extremely difficult conditions, their only thought was that they wanted to get home again so that they could continue fighting with their king. Incomprehensible!

Yet there were still deserters. Most of them had made their escape during the march to Moscow and then in the capital city itself. But there were also some who managed to escape imprisonment in Siberia. Those who were left behind would often think about the ones who had managed to disappear, but they knew nothing of their fate. Getting back to Sweden or reaching Karl XII’s army weren’t exactly short trips.

The young Vendel Grip was eager to learn a craft. He could choose forging, pottery, or furniture-making, he could become a saddler, engraver or goldsmith, he could sew beautiful horse cloths or cut precious stones. As bright as he was, he quickly learned the art of preparing hides – with saddlery in mind – but he soon discovered that he found it more enjoyable to decorate the hides with ornamentation. He became so good at it that he was given the task of training twelve other soldiers of limited means every Sunday. Many officers who wanted to learn a craft attended.

Vendel was doing well, not least financially. He sold his beautiful hides or traded them for useful goods from the people in the town or from farmers who came in from the surrounding countryside on market days. Needless to say, he didn’t make huge sums of money, but what he earned he saved in the house he shared with the other soldiers of King Karl XII.

He didn’t see Corfitz Beck all that much any more. Beck had started associating with one of the families that had arrived there from the Baltic provinces. The head of the family was Lieutenant-Colonel Claes Skogh: he was the father and also a seasoned soldier and a man of authority.