Free The House by the Dvina by Eugenie Fraser Page A

written about troikas, their drivers and their journeys across the length and breadth of mother Russia.
    Romantic they may have been, but on long journeys they were devoid of all comfort. Yet throughout their hazardous journey, cramped in their carriage, tormented by dust and the merciless rays of the sun, or drenched in torrential rain, our travellers seem to have remained cheerfully happy, bearing all discomforts with inherent patience.
    Deeply hidden, however, was the anxiety about their future. It increased as they drew nearer to the north. How would EugeneТs parents treat their peasant daughter-in-law so suddenly thrust upon them? Being deeply religious, their faith sustained them. “God did not mean us to travel so far for nothing,” Feodosiya reasoned, sensing her daughterТs anxiety.
    Eugene also had misgivings. He feared his proud mother and pinned all hopes on his more tolerant father.
    EugeneТs parents knew nothing until the day when the cook, hurrying from the market, brought the news that Eugene had been seen in the outskirts of Archangel and should be arriving at any moment. They ran out on to the porch and stood eagerly awaiting the arrival of their beloved son. The troika with great style flew through the gates, turned and drew up beside the porch. Eugene got out and ran up the steps to his welcoming parents.
    Anna and her mother remained standing beside the horses, confused and timid, not daring to go any further.
    In the first few seconds of their happy reunion Margaretha did not appear to notice the two women, or perhaps did not consider them worthy of any attention beyond enquiring casually who these peasants were. The moment Eugene dreaded had arrived. “Mamushka,” he said, using the endearing ending, “this is my wife and her mother. I beg you,” he continued humbly, “to give us your blessing.” MargarethaТs face turned scarlet, then deathly pale. She staggered and would have fallen if Eugene had not caught her. He and his father helped her to reach her bedroom where she collapsed on the bed.
    When she recovered she forgot her habitual dignity and could not contain her hysterical rage. She could never accept, she told Eugene bitterly, a primitive peasant as a daughter-in-law. He, her son, had betrayed not only her and his father but everything that they stood for. She would never be able to face her friends and relatives again. This terrible condemnation was far worse than Eugene had imagined. It poured like a torrent of angry waters upon his defenceless head. In the end, collecting herself, in a voice that was cold and distant and more wounding than her towering rage, she told him to take his peasant wife and her mother anywhere he liked.
    They were never to cross the threshold of her house. That went for him as well. She completely disowned him.
    Eugene ran out of the house and down the steps. The troika was still standing. Anna and Feodosiya were also waiting. Their heads bowed, dejected and utterly humiliated, they had stood throughout this terrible scene Ditterly regretting they had ever left their beloved Kaluga.
    At this point EugeneТs faith in his father was justified. Ivan hurried after his son. It was Ivan who found a temporary place where they could stay until such time as they could find a permanent home, and it was Ivan who shortly after bought a house for them in a place called Maimaksa, not far from the mouth of the river and near their place of business, where all the timber industry was concentrated.
    There they spent their married life and raised their family. Their youngest child, a daughter, was born in 1857, and she proved to be more gifted than all the others. They named her Evgeniya, after her father. She was my grandmother.
    “Strange are the ways of God.” How often I heard this old saying quoted in Russia! Gradually Margaretha drew closer to Anna. Slowly also came the realisation that there was more to her daughter-in-law than met the eye.
    In the years that