Halloween Edition: The Mysterious Death of Dostoevsky's Father—Murder or Misfortune?
In this special article, I will discuss the circumstances surrounding the death of Dostoevsky's father, which still contains many unclear or concealed aspects.
Hello, Dostoevsky enthusiast!
For the Halloween season, I've prepared a series of articles that blend the mystical with the frightening.
You can read the first article in this series - about how Dostoevsky participated in séances, what his attitude towards them was, and what the writer's widow replied to Dostoevsky's medium friend when he wanted to summon his spirit.
The estate "Darovoye," (Даровое) acquired in 1831 by Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky's parents, remained a hereditary possession until 1929. For nearly a century, it served variously as a summer cottage, an estate, and property under external guardianship. However, until the 1920s, "Darovoye" was considered "unremarkable," significant only to its owners. This perception changed after the publication of memoirs by Lyubov Dostoevskaya, the writer's daughter, and Dostoevsky scholars' discovery of memoirs of the writer’s younger brother — Andrey Dostoevsky. These texts unveiled a captivating story about the alleged murder of Mikhail Dostoevsky, the writer's father, by serf peasants and the century-long concealment of this fact by relatives and heirs.
It's important to note that officially, there's still no definitive answer to whether Dostoevsky's father was murdered. According to official documents, the cause of death was an apoplectic stroke. Unfortunately, the original case materials have not survived. The investigation reopened in the 1920s, and relied solely on circumstantial evidence—preserved archival documents of the district, newspaper articles, witness testimonies, and anecdotal information.
On June 6, 1839, Mikhail Andreevich Dostoevsky, the writer's father, died in a field between two villages he owned—Darovoye and Cheremoshnya (Черемошня) — in what was then the Kashira district of Tula province.
So, let's consider two possible causes of death for Dostoevsky's father:
Natural causes — an apoplectic stroke. This is the official version, stated in the death certificate.
Violent death at the hands of serfs. This version has several variants:
Murder due to cruel treatment.
Revenge for alleged affairs with peasant women, including a minor (16 years old).
Unintentional killing during a conflict, possibly due to crop failure.
Version One. Official. Natural causes
On the morning of June 6, 1839 (old style), Mikhail Dostoevsky suffered a stroke while in a field near Darovoye, one of his villages. He didn't die immediately. The peasants managed to summon Dr. Schenrock from Zaraysk in Ryazan province. As a commercial doctor, Schenrock wasn't authorized to conduct forensic examinations or sign official documents, especially in Kashira province. He was likely called to assist the still-living Dostoevsky. However, upon arriving in Darovoye around noon, the doctor found him already dead.
To record the death, they called a police officer, who authorized the required judicial investigation. With the district center, Kashira, 50 km from Darovoye, the investigative team couldn't have formed before June 7. The autopsy, permitted only during daylight hours, likely occurred on June 8, as suggested by a letter from the writer's brother.
Fyodor Dostoevsky first informed his older brother Mikhail about their father's death in a now-lost letter, sent in the second half of June 1839—several weeks later! The reason for this delay remains unclear. We know this from Mikhail's preserved letter to relatives:
"This week I received a letter from my brother Fyodor, in which he informs me of the misfortune that has befallen our family. It seems that Providence has seen fit to once again test the strength of our spirit and make us drink the cup of sorrow to the dregs. We are now complete orphans, without mother or father. I'm not even talking about myself and my brother: we are, thank God, of age... but these poor little ones... My God, my God! What have they done to you?! I have not yet received any news from the village, and my brother writes very unclearly about everything that happened; therefore, I know almost nothing in detail. My God! My God, what a terrible death our father died! Two days in the field... perhaps rain and dust mocked his mortal remains; perhaps he called for us in his last moments, and we did not come to him to close his eyes. How did he deserve such an end!"
It becomes evident that Dostoevsky's father's body remained in the field for two days before the autopsy. This raises questions about the reliability of any evidence gathered after such a prolonged exposure to the elements. The circumstances surrounding the death seemed highly unusual. Adding to the mystery, Fyodor provided no detailed account of the incident in his letter.
Equally perplexing was the report submitted to the Tula civil governor Averkiev by the Kashira zemsky court on June 16, 1839. Prior to the reforms of 1862–1864, this court oversaw police investigations and reported on all deaths within its jurisdiction.
Below is the text of the official report.
«On the morning of June 6 this year, Court Counselor Mikhail Andreevich Dostoevsky, aged 54, who was managing the estate of his late wife in the village of Darovoye in Kashira district, while in the field overseeing peasants transporting manure, suddenly died. According to the investigation conducted by the temporary division of this court, there was no doubt or suspicion of violent death in the case of Mr. Dostoevsky, and it occurred, as certified by the district staff physician Schenknecht, from an apoplectic stroke due to severe hemorrhoidal strains, for which the usual remedy was not taken. <…>
Senior assessor Kolesnikov»
Apoplexy in 19th-century terminology was a general term for acute cerebrovascular disorders or strokes. However, strokes can be of different types: one may develop spontaneously, while another may be provoked by poisoning or beatings. Thus, an apoplectic stroke does not rule out the possibility of murder.
But what do these "hemorrhoidal strains" mean in the cause of death? And what "usual remedies" are being referred to?
The phrase "hemorrhoidal strains" was not an established medical term. Therefore, it's difficult to say for certain what Dr. Schenknecht meant, especially in the absence of the original autopsy report for M. A. Dostoevsky. There are possible interpretations.
The first: "hemorrhoidal strains" could be understood in the modern sense. 19th-century medicine was well aware of the term "hemorrhoids," and in this case, it refers to constipation. The medical knowledge of the time did indeed indicate that constipation could trigger a stroke. However, for those times, this explanation seems absurd. Could it be that, in the forensic expert's opinion, Dostoevsky's father went out into the middle of a field to relieve himself, experienced constipation there, and died? This sounds like dark humor.
A more likely second interpretation: "hemorrhoidal" in the sense of "hemorrhagic." In the 19th century, hemorrhoids were primarily viewed as a systemic vascular disease associated with thrombosis and varicose veins. Therefore, in the medical language of the first half of the 19th century, a diagnosis of "hemorrhoids" could refer to any bleeding caused by vein damage and thrombosis. This version is more plausible. It is known that Dostoevsky's father practiced bloodletting as a preventive measure against stroke, which was a common practice in the 19th century.
It seemed that the official version should have ended there, leaving only family legends, but no. The case of the presumably non-violent death of Dostoevsky's father dragged on for a year and a half.
When the case of Mikhail Andreevich's death was pending approval by the civil governor, an unexpected turn occurred. The landowners - neighbors of the Dostoevsky - entered the scene. The Khotyaintsevs, from whom the Dostoevskys had once bought their lands and with whom they subsequently had conflicts, played a special role here. The landowners assured the court that they doubted the non-violent nature of Dostoevsky's death, although none of them were personally present at the time.
I won't describe at length these one-and-a-half years when the case of Dostoevsky's father's death was passed from one authority to another. In the end, no conclusions were reached, and the case was closed due to insufficient grounds. The version with the apoplectic stroke remained the official one. Subsequently, the folders with the case were destroyed - as was done with closed cases. But was it really closed?
Version Two: Family Legends
The stern character of Doctor Dostoevsky was gradually preparing him for a tragic end. After his wife's death, secluding himself in Darovoye with his younger children, Mikhail Andreevich sank deeper into the abyss of despair and bitterness.
There are also family stories about this event. One of them belongs to Dostoevsky's younger brother Andrey Mikhailovich, who was living with his father at the time of his death:
"His [Mikhail Andreevich Dostoevsky's] addiction to alcoholic beverages was apparently increasing, and he was almost constantly in an abnormal state. [On June 6, 1839] in the village of Cheremoshnya, in a field near the edge of the forest, a group of peasants, about ten or fifteen men, was working. Enraged by some unsuccessful actions of the peasants, or perhaps just perceiving them as such, father lost his temper and began shouting loudly at the peasants. One of them, more daring, responded to this shouting with strong rudeness, and then, fearing the consequences of this rudeness, yelled: 'Boys, let's finish him off,' and with these cries, all the peasants, numbering 15 men, pounced on father and in an instant, of course, ended him."
This provides a general picture of the event, but remains in the realm of speculation and cannot be considered reliable. There were no witnesses to the murder, investigative materials have not been preserved, the killers were not found, and no trial was conducted. Perhaps the only significant action of the investigation was the autopsy of the deceased. However the autopsy report has not survived, though its contents were known to relatives, and some of them did not conceal this information.
In 1920, Fyodor Dostoevsky's daughter Lyubov Fyodorovna (pseudonym Aimée) published memoirs about her father, where she also recounts the family history and the murder of her grandfather. This prompted researchers and journalists to "reopen" the case of the mysterious death of the writer's father. Written in French, it was published in German translation simultaneously in Munich and Zurich in 1920. It was translated into Russian later.
"One summer day," reports his granddaughter Lyubov Fyodorovna, "he left his estate Darovoye for his other estate called Cheremoshna and never returned. He was later found halfway there, suffocated with a cushion from the carriage. The coachman disappeared along with the horses, and at the same time, some other peasants from the village vanished... Other serfs of my grandfather testified that it was an act of revenge: the old man had always treated his serfs very harshly. The more he drank, the more ferocious he became."
So, here the murder weapon appears — a cushion. But the question arises, who knew about it and where did it go?
Dostoevsky's niece Maria Ivanova, who lived in Darovoye at the end of her life, told journalists in 1926 that the death occurred without bloodshed. Because of this, no signs of violent death were found on the body.
This version was confirmed in 1926 by the peasants of the village of Darovoye - Danila Makarov and Andrei Savushkin. The first, a ninety-year-old man, was a boy of about seven when the murder was committed, while the second recounted the events as told by his father. The old men told the story together, correcting and complementing each other.
Below is an almost verbatim record of the old men's story (as it was in Nechaeva's article)1:
"The master (Dostoevsky’s father) was a strict, disagreeable gentleman, while the lady (Dostoevsky’s mother) was kind-hearted. He lived poorly with her and beat her. <…>
He would flog the peasants for no reason. It would happen that he'd be walking in the garden, and there beyond the road a peasant is plowing, doesn't see the master, and doesn't take off his hat. And the master would order him to be called and given 20-30 lashes, and then send him off – 'Go, work!!!"
The peasants decided to finish him off. Efimov, Mikhailov, Isaev, and Vasily Nikitin conspired among themselves. Now they're all gone from this world, long since rotted away - one can say. Around this time, the peasants were hauling manure during St. Peter's Fast. The sun was already high in the sky when the master asked if everyone had gone out to work. He's told that four men from Cheremoshnya hadn't gone, claiming to be sick.
"I'll cure them," he said and ordered his gig to be prepared. He had a cane with him. When he arrived, the peasants were already standing in the street.
"Why aren't you working?" he asks.
"We have no strength," they say. He hit them with his cane - one, then another. They ran into the yard, and he followed them. There, Vasily Nikitin, who was healthy and tall, grabbed him from behind by the arms, while the others stood, frightened. Vasily shouted at them: "Why are you standing there? What did we agree on?"
The peasants rushed forward, and gagged the master... so there would be no traces. Then they took him out, dumping him in a field on the road from Cheremoshnya to Darovoye. And the coachman David was in on it. He left the master, went to Monogarovo for the priest, and didn't even stop at Darovoye. The priest arrived, the master was still breathing, but already unconscious. The priest performed a silent confession, he knew, but kept it secret, didn't give away the peasants. Investigators later came from Kashira, questioned everyone, and interrogated, but found out nothing. It was as if he died from a fit, and he did have fits».
This is the recollection of the event at the location where it occurred. Until now, it was known from the book of the writer's daughter, whose accounts in many cases do not inspire confidence. Lyubov Fyodorovna's story about the act of revenge differs greatly from the peasants' account.
As the materials of this ancient crime reveal, in addition to the general hatred towards the landowner, some of the peasants had reasons to harbor a special personal enmity towards him. One of the conspirators, Isaev, had a daughter named Akulina, who was only fourteen years old at the time of M. A. Dostoevsky's death. She had been taken into the manor house by Maria Fyodorovna (writer’s mother), that is, no later than 1836, as a girl of ten or eleven years old. She was very beautiful. Mikhail Andreevich kept her with him and even made her his assistant in medical matters.
Another participant in the murder, the peasant Efimov, had a niece named Katya, who grew up in his family. Maria Fyodorovna (the writer’s mother) also took her as a maid when she was fourteen. According to Andrey Dostoevsky, she was a "firecracker of a girl", even younger than her at the time. After his wife's death, Dostoevsky's father became close to the then sixteen-year-old Katya, with whom he had a child that soon died. The murder of Mikhail Andreevich can be interpreted as revenge for his treatment of Katya and other serf girls.
It should be noted that in "The Chronicle of the Dostoevsky Dynasty"2 - Ekaterina Alexandrova and Simeon (the deceased son) are included in the writer's family tree without a question mark. This means that this story definitely took place. But whether it became a motive for the murder is unclear.
If we compare the fact that two of the killers, or perhaps all four, had close female relatives among Dostoevsky's father's peasant women and that the name of Katya's uncle - the peasant Efimov - stands first among the killers, then this was probably the reason. Furthermore, the peasants' testimonies state that he was killed right in the yard of the house where Katya grew up.
But this was probably not the only motive for the crime: the main one should be recognized as "the morbidly quick-tempered and suspicious nature of the drinking landowner, who took out his failures and melancholy on the peasants". The theme of old Dostoevsky's moral depravity and his attitude towards peasant girls emerges with full clarity from these materials about his demise.
The corpse of the murdered man lay in the field for two days. Judicial authorities arrived from Kashira. But the investigators discovered nothing, likely bribed by the relatives of the deceased, who were carefully concealing his disgraceful end. They acted this way for material considerations because if the fact of the landowner's murder by peasants had been established, the entire village would have been subjected to the most severe punishments and complete deportation. In this case, the children of the deceased would have been left without income from the peasants' labor.
According to family lore, when news of his father's death reached Fyodor Mikhailovich, the young man suffered his first severe seizure with convulsions and loss of consciousness, probably marking the onset of his epileptic fits.
"He analyzed the causes of this terrible death throughout his life," — his daughter writes in her memoirs. — "When creating the character of Fyodor Karamazov, he may have recalled his father's miserliness, which caused his sons so much suffering and angered them so much, his drunkenness and the physical revulsion it inspired in his children..."
The famous novelist remained silent about his father's death for forty years. And in his final novel, he expanded the "obituary" of his father into a stunning epic of sin, vice, and crime. But whether this was biographical or fictional, we will never know for certain.
In any case, the death of Dostoevsky's father was not peaceful and domestic. He died alone, without family, in the middle of a field, where he lay for several days. Whether it was natural or violent no longer matters. The exact burial place of Dostoevsky's father is also unknown and raises questions. There are several possibilities within the estate. Of course, gravestones and monuments have been erected.
What do you think was the fate of Dostoevsky's father?
Nechaeva, V. S. A Trip to Darovoe / V. S. Nechaeva // Novy Mir. — 1926. — No. 3. — pp. 131–134 (in russ)
Khronika roda Dostoevskikh; Igor’ Volgin. Rodnye i blizkie: istoriko-biograficheskie ocherki [The Chronicle of the Dostoevsky Dynasty; Igor Volgin. Nearest and Dearest: Historical and Biographical Essays]. Moscow, Fond Dostoevskogo Publ., 2012. 1232 p. (In Russ.)
Love these special essays. With those kind of motives, very likely he was done in.
Thank you so much for this article! Your writing ALWAYS makes me want to go find every journal and diary of those in the Dostoevsky family circle and read each perspective firsthand. It makes me sad to read the various accounts of abuse at the hand of Dostoevsky’s father, and I wonder what his own upbringing was like.