<h2><SPAN name="chap02"></SPAN>Chapter II.<br/> He Gets Rid Of His Eldest Son</h2>
<p>You can easily imagine what a father such a man could be and how he would bring
up his children. His behavior as a father was exactly what might be expected.
He completely abandoned the child of his marriage with Adelaïda Ivanovna, not
from malice, nor because of his matrimonial grievances, but simply because he
forgot him. While he was wearying every one with his tears and complaints, and
turning his house into a sink of debauchery, a faithful servant of the family,
Grigory, took the three‐year‐old Mitya into his care. If he hadn’t looked
after him there would have been no one even to change the baby’s little
shirt.</p>
<p>It happened moreover that the child’s relations on his mother’s
side forgot him too at first. His grandfather was no longer living, his widow,
Mitya’s grandmother, had moved to Moscow, and was seriously ill, while
his daughters were married, so that Mitya remained for almost a whole year in
old Grigory’s charge and lived with him in the servant’s cottage.
But if his father had remembered him (he could not, indeed, have been
altogether unaware of his existence) he would have sent him back to the
cottage, as the child would only have been in the way of his debaucheries. But
a cousin of Mitya’s mother, Pyotr Alexandrovitch Miüsov, happened to
return from Paris. He lived for many years afterwards abroad, but was at that
time quite a young man, and distinguished among the Miüsovs as a man of
enlightened ideas and of European culture, who had been in the capitals and
abroad. Towards the end of his life he became a Liberal of the type common in
the forties and fifties. In the course of his career he had come into contact
with many of the most Liberal men of his epoch, both in Russia and abroad. He
had known Proudhon and Bakunin personally, and in his declining years was very
fond of describing the three days of the Paris Revolution of February 1848,
hinting that he himself had almost taken part in the fighting on the
barricades. This was one of the most grateful recollections of his youth. He
had an independent property of about a thousand souls, to reckon in the old
style. His splendid estate lay on the outskirts of our little town and bordered
on the lands of our famous monastery, with which Pyotr Alexandrovitch began an
endless lawsuit, almost as soon as he came into the estate, concerning the
rights of fishing in the river or wood‐cutting in the forest, I don’t
know exactly which. He regarded it as his duty as a citizen and a man of
culture to open an attack upon the “clericals.” Hearing all about
Adelaïda Ivanovna, whom he, of course, remembered, and in whom he had at one
time been interested, and learning of the existence of Mitya, he intervened, in
spite of all his youthful indignation and contempt for Fyodor Pavlovitch. He
made the latter’s acquaintance for the first time, and told him directly
that he wished to undertake the child’s education. He used long
afterwards to tell as a characteristic touch, that when he began to speak of
Mitya, Fyodor Pavlovitch looked for some time as though he did not understand
what child he was talking about, and even as though he was surprised to hear
that he had a little son in the house. The story may have been exaggerated, yet
it must have been something like the truth.</p>
<p>Fyodor Pavlovitch was all his life fond of acting, of suddenly playing an
unexpected part, sometimes without any motive for doing so, and even to his own
direct disadvantage, as, for instance, in the present case. This habit,
however, is characteristic of a very great number of people, some of them very
clever ones, not like Fyodor Pavlovitch. Pyotr Alexandrovitch carried the
business through vigorously, and was appointed, with Fyodor Pavlovitch, joint
guardian of the child, who had a small property, a house and land, left him by
his mother. Mitya did, in fact, pass into this cousin’s keeping, but as
the latter had no family of his own, and after securing the revenues of his
estates was in haste to return at once to Paris, he left the boy in charge of
one of his cousins, a lady living in Moscow. It came to pass that, settling
permanently in Paris he, too, forgot the child, especially when the Revolution
of February broke out, making an impression on his mind that he remembered all
the rest of his life. The Moscow lady died, and Mitya passed into the care of
one of her married daughters. I believe he changed his home a fourth time later
on. I won’t enlarge upon that now, as I shall have much to tell later of
Fyodor Pavlovitch’s firstborn, and must confine myself now to the most
essential facts about him, without which I could not begin my story.</p>
<p>In the first place, this Mitya, or rather Dmitri Fyodorovitch, was the only one
of Fyodor Pavlovitch’s three sons who grew up in the belief that he had
property, and that he would be independent on coming of age. He spent an
irregular boyhood and youth. He did not finish his studies at the gymnasium, he
got into a military school, then went to the Caucasus, was promoted, fought a
duel, and was degraded to the ranks, earned promotion again, led a wild life,
and spent a good deal of money. He did not begin to receive any income from
Fyodor Pavlovitch until he came of age, and until then got into debt. He saw
and knew his father, Fyodor Pavlovitch, for the first time on coming of age,
when he visited our neighborhood on purpose to settle with him about his
property. He seems not to have liked his father. He did not stay long with him,
and made haste to get away, having only succeeded in obtaining a sum of money,
and entering into an agreement for future payments from the estate, of the
revenues and value of which he was unable (a fact worthy of note), upon this
occasion, to get a statement from his father. Fyodor Pavlovitch remarked for
the first time then (this, too, should be noted) that Mitya had a vague and
exaggerated idea of his property. Fyodor Pavlovitch was very well satisfied
with this, as it fell in with his own designs. He gathered only that the young
man was frivolous, unruly, of violent passions, impatient, and dissipated, and
that if he could only obtain ready money he would be satisfied, although only,
of course, for a short time. So Fyodor Pavlovitch began to take advantage of
this fact, sending him from time to time small doles, installments. In the end,
when four years later, Mitya, losing patience, came a second time to our little
town to settle up once for all with his father, it turned out to his amazement
that he had nothing, that it was difficult to get an account even, that he had
received the whole value of his property in sums of money from Fyodor
Pavlovitch, and was perhaps even in debt to him, that by various agreements
into which he had, of his own desire, entered at various previous dates, he had
no right to expect anything more, and so on, and so on. The young man was
overwhelmed, suspected deceit and cheating, and was almost beside himself. And,
indeed, this circumstance led to the catastrophe, the account of which forms
the subject of my first introductory story, or rather the external side of it.
But before I pass to that story I must say a little of Fyodor
Pavlovitch’s other two sons, and of their origin.</p>
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