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Professional agitators, who had nothing to lose and everything to gain by promoting a race quarrel, were actively at work among the people, keeping alive the flame of hatred which they had taken such pains to kindle. Elizabethgrad, a large city to the south of Kief, containing ten thousand Jews, was their first point of attack.
"A son of my old friend, dear," he cried; "surely you must remember Prince Nicolai Lvovitch? You saw him at at Tver." "I don't remember any Nicolai Lvovitch, Was that your father?" she inquired of the prince. "Yes, but he died at Elizabethgrad, not at Tver," said the prince, rather timidly. "So Pavlicheff told me." "No, Tver," insisted the general; "he removed just before his death.
Ringleaders, however, were not long in making their appearance. As in Elizabethgrad, the first act of the mob was to storm the dram-shops; it needed the inspiration of vodki. Having broken in the doors and windows, they rolled the barrels out into the street. Vodki flowed in streams; the rioters waded, they bathed, they wallowed in whiskey. The women carried it away by the pailful.
Thousands of Jews, driven out of Elizabethgrad by the atrocities committed at that place, fled to Kief and implored shelter of their hospitable co-religionists. They were for the greater part destitute of the commonest necessities of life. Their appeal was not in vain. The charitable Jews opened their houses, and there was scarcely a home that did not entertain one or more refugees.
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