Tolstoy

The wedding was scheduled for eight in the evening but was delayed by at least an hour and a half. In the haste of all the packing that had to be done in preparation for the journey to Yasnaya Polyana, which would begin immediately after the ceremony, Tolstoy’s servant had forgotten to leave out a clean shirt for him. Thus instead of his best man arriving at the Bers’ apartment to announce that the bridegroom was waiting in the church, a sheepish Alexey Stepanovich came to rummage through the packed luggage.¹⁸ The ceremony took place at the Church of the Nativity of Our Lady in the heart of the kremlin, minutes from the Bers’ apartment. Dating back to the late fourteenth century, this small church is the oldest of all the kremlin buildings, and in the nineteenth century it became part of the Great Palace built by Nicholas I. (All one can see of it nowadays is its single white drum and golden cupola rising above the palace’s green rooftop – it has not been returned to the Orthodox Church, nor is it open to the public.) unlike the grand cathedrals nearby, where state occasions were held, this was a church attended by those who lived and worked in the kremlin, and on the evening of Tolstoy’s wedding it was filled with gatecrashers – curious employees of the court who worked in the palace – as well as the small number of invited guests. None of Tolstoy’s own family were present except for his aunt Polina, who accompanied Sonya to the church in the carriage, along with her nine-year-old brother Volodya, who carried the icon of St Sophia the Martyr she had just been blessed with by her mother and uncle. Tolstoy’s brother Sergey had been in Moscow, but had departed already so that he could organise a proper welcome party for the couple at Yasnaya Polyana.¹⁹ His sister Masha was in Marseilles.

Late in the evening, after the celebratory champagne, and after observing the Russian custom of sitting down and saying prayers before going on a journey,²⁰ the newly-weds set off in the brand new dormeuse Tolstoy had purchased for the occasion: a particularly well-sprung carriage with extensions so that a bed could be made up for the occupants. It came with six horses, driven by a coachman and postilion. Sonya found it difficult to leave her family, as she had never been parted from them before, nor had she ever travelled in the autumn or winter, let alone at night. The light given off by the streetlamps of Moscow was exchanged for pitch blackness as soon as they left the city. It was also raining heavily. Still unable to pluck up the courage to switch from the vy form of address to the more intimate ty with her husband, Sonya was also terrified: they had never been alone before. The married couple barely spoke before stopping at the coaching inn in Biryulevo, fifteen miles south of Moscow, where they spent their wedding night. ‘She knows everything’, ‘Her fright’, ‘Something painful’ were amongst the pithy telegraphic comments Tolstoy made in his diary after they finally arrived at Yasnaya Polyana the following evening.²¹ A couple of weeks later Sonya was evidently still struggling to come to terms with the ‘physical manifestations’ of their relationship, which she found appalling, but which she discovered were clearly so important to him.²²

At the house they were greeted by Sergey, who offered the traditional Russian bread and salt as a sign of welcome, and by Aunt Toinette, holding up the family icon of the Mother of God of the Sign. Sonya bowed deeply before them both, crossed herself, kissed first the icon and then Aunt Toinette. Tolstoy did the same.²³ Over the next few days Sonya met the various members of the household as they came to offer their congratulations to the happy couple. They included Nikolay Mikhailovich the cook, Anna Petrovna the cowherd, accompanied by her daughters Annushka and Dushka, grandmother Pelageya Nikolayevna’s old maid Agafya Mikhailovna, always knitting stockings, even while she was walking about,²⁴ the jolly laundrywoman Aksinya Maximovna and her pretty daughters Polya and Marfa, as well as the coachman, the gardener, the pastry cook and numerous other servants and peasants from the estate and neighbouring villages. Sonya’s mother had thoughtfully given her 300 roubles, so she would not have to depend on her husband for money initially, but it nearly all disappeared as gifts to those who came to offer congratulations. Henceforth, Sonya was entirely dependent on her husband in financial matters, and disliked having to ask him for money. He never made her feel she was a penniless bride without a dowry, however, nor that his wealth belonged to him alone, she notes in her autobiography.²⁵