The Plight of the Victims at Number 13

Then the murderers emerged from the same opening by which the victims had escaped.

Continuing A Russian Pogrom Against the Jews,
our selection from House No. 13 by Vladamir Korolenko published in . The selection is presented in 5.5 easy 5 minute installments. For works benefiting from the latest research see the “More information” section at the bottom of these pages.

Previously in A Russian Pogrom Against the Jews.

Time: 1903
Place: Kishineff (modern Chișinău), Moldovia

So they tore their way through the roof. Moses Macklin was the first to get out; for he was (as described by the spectators) a small, lightly built man. Berlatsky had first to help his daughter, Chaia and as he was attempting to follow her, one of his pursuers reached the garret, and seized him by the legs.

Then began, in full sight of the crowd, a desperate struggle. The daughter was attempting to drag her father up, and the pursuer was pulling him backward. The struggle was apparently unequal; and it was evident that Berlatsky had looked for the last time on the sun. But Chaia Berlatsky suddenly ceased her efforts and leaning over the aperture implored the ruffian to let go of her father.

He yielded to her entreaties.

May some of this man’s sins be forgiven, because for a brief moment, at the height of the orgy of unrestrained fury, he allowed a ray of human pity to enter his heart — pity for the anguish of a Jewish daughter, entreating for the life of her father — a pity which penetrated through the gloom of the surrounding horrors into this darkened soul. He allowed the Jew to escape. One cannot help wondering what became of him. Perhaps he left the scene of the riots with shame in his soul, beginning dimly to perceive and feel that God, according to the teachings of all religions, reveals himself in love and brotherhood, rather than in the destruction of the defenseless. Or possibly he hardened his heart after that momentary impulse and repented, not of the hour of bestial fury but of the instant of human pity toward the outraged Jews, as had happened on more than one occasion.

Meanwhile the three victims were crouching on the roof. They glanced shudderingly around at the daylight, the square, the neighboring houses, the blue sky, the sun, policeman No. 148 seated on the curbstone, the patrols awaiting orders; and possibly also at the Russian priest who, alone and unarmed, impelled by his conscience as a Christian, attempted to appeal to the infuriated mob of rioters. This priest, it seems, was passing accidentally through the square; and the Jews, watching from neighboring houses what was going on at No. 13, implored his help. I regret that I do not know his name; he was evidently a good man, who could not believe that there existed in “sacred Russia,” or anywhere else on earth, people who de served killing like wild beasts for offenses common to all. Neither, presumably, did he believe that there existed men in Russia who would be allowed to kill defenseless Jews in broad daylight. An immediate and very natural feeling made him at first approach the crowd with a word of Christian persuasion. But the rabble threatened him, and he retreated. He was evidently an earnest Christian, but not a hero of Christian duty. Anyhow, we will hope that he did not regret his first impulse, and the attempt he made.

Whether it was at this exact moment that the episode took place, I cannot say; but it is well known that the three victims crouched for some time on the roof of that house in the middle of the town, visible to hundreds of people, and absolutely defenseless. Then the murderers emerged from the same opening by which the victims had escaped. The Jews began to run round the roof, which made the angle of the square; at one moment they would appear on the side of the courtyard, at another moment on that of the street. The rioters followed at their heels. The same neighbor who was the first to strike Grienschpoun was the first to wound Berlatsky. Another kept on throwing the enamel basin, which we saw on the roof weeks afterward, at the legs of the terrified victims. The basin struck the roof each time with a crash, and the mob probably laughed. Finally all three were tripped over the edge of the roof. Chaia fell on a pile of feathers in the court yard, and escaped with her life. The wounded Macklin and Berlatsky lay writhing with broken limbs on the pavement, where the cowardly crowd of voluntary executioners finished them off with crowbars, amid the derisive laughter of the onlookers, who covered the bodies with feathers. Later on in the day casks of wine were broached and allowed to run to waste over the square, and the unfortunate victims were literally smothered in this mass of wine, mud, and feathers. Some assured us that Macklin lived for several hours.

Nisensen was the last to be killed; he and his wife had hidden in the cellar, but when he heard the cries of the murdered he realized that death and destruction were stalking through No. 13, and he ran out into the street. Once there, he was able to escape into the opposite courtyard, and might perhaps have saved himself; but the rioters were in hot pursuit of his wife; he followed her and called after her to return with him. This drew the attention of the mob to himself; they left the wife and pursued the husband. He turned and made for No. 7 in Asia Street, but just before reaching it he was caught and killed. Two names are definitely mentioned in connection with this scene; one is a Moldavian name, and the other has a Polish termination. It had rained just before Easter week, and the puddles were full of water. Nisensen fell into one of these puddles, and the murderers rinsed the Jew in the mud, and then twisted and wrung him out, as one would rinse and wash out a dirty rag.

After this episode the mob, as if satiated with blood, fell back once more on its work of destruction and plunder, but left off killing. The Jews from the surrounding houses approached the unfortunate Nisensen and attempted to give him some assistance. He was still alive, and regained consciousness for a time, asking for water. His legs and arms had been broken in several places. They drew him out of the puddle, gave him water, and began to wipe the dirt from him. At this moment one of the rioters turned round and shouted out something to a companion. The Jews immediately disappeared. Nisensen remained alone. Then once more the same man who had first wounded Grienschpoun and Berlatsky stepped forward and struck Nisensen a blow on the head with a crowbar, which put an end to his sufferings.

Richard Gottheil began here. Vladamir Korolenko began here.

More information here and here, and below.

The Kishineff Pogrom of 1903 [IN HEBREW]

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