They called him "Russian Thunderstorm"
The story of Ivan Turchaninov, a fugitive colonel who, along with Abraham Lincoln, abolished slavery in America.
Author: Sergey Tashevsky
In Russia, the sons of military men almost always have no choice—they are forced to follow in their parents' footsteps. Voluntarily, of course. March straight to military academy! And God willing, somewhere along the way they might meet a girlfriend or friends who explain that killing and being killed isn't the highest calling for a person. But no one, of course, told Ivan Vasilyevich Turchaninov, born in February 1822 on the Don River, into a family of hereditary military men. It was a different era, and in the Cossack villages, military valor was valued, as they say, "by default." Moreover, his father, a troop sergeant major, was a hero of the war against Napoleon. And his father's two brothers were also heroes, all decorated with medals, drinking tea (and stronger) with Kutuzov himself under fire, and wiping out countless French soldiers. His grandfathers and great-grandfathers also fought and successfully killed some, for which they were awarded golden weapons. In short, it wasn't a family, but an incubator for the military elite. So, at the age of 10, Turchaninov, without further ado, went to St. Petersburg to enroll in the First Cadet Corps. There, of course, no one dissuaded him from a military career, and after graduating from the Mikhailovskoye Artillery School, he was appointed ensign in the Don Horse Artillery Battery. His career then developed with military precision and speed. At 22, he became a second lieutenant, and at 26, already a lieutenant, he finally set out to fulfill the duties that often underpin a "military incubator" in Russia: suppressing the Hungarian Rebellion. In 1849, he and many other talented Russian officers, under the leadership of the famous Prince Paskevich, toiled to help the Austrians deprive a small European country of its freedom. The rebels were facing Austrian troops on one side and Russian troops on the other, so they had no chance. But as soon as the Hungarians capitulated, the Austrians began executing the rebels, practically in full view of their Russian colleagues. Perhaps it was then that Turchaninov first realized that military service could be abhorrent. Fortunately, his unit was one of the first to return to St. Petersburg.
But although the "Hungarian campaign" earned Russia the title of "Gendarme of Europe," many of its participants emerged as significant beneficiaries. Turchaninov, for example, was awarded the St. George Cross and sent to study at the General Staff Academy. In 1852, he was promoted to second major and began working on the General Staff, where he frequently met with Nicholas I (the emperor is said to have favored him), and he even enjoyed a near-friendly relationship with the Tsarevich, the future Russian Emperor Alexander II. It seemed his career was thriving, and even the Crimean War, Russia's disastrous performance, brought him a promotion. In 1853, he volunteered for besieged Sevastopol, where he commanded the famous Bastion IV (the same one where the then-unknown artillery officer Leo Tolstoy fought—they likely met and conversed frequently between battles). But Tolstoy only rose to the rank of lieutenant, while Turchaninov returned to St. Petersburg in 1855 with the rank of colonel and soon became chief of staff of the Guards Corps on Russia's western borders. He was only 33 years old, but he already had influence at court and, in fact, had become a famous figure. Moreover, a couple of years earlier, he had married the sister of his friend and fellow soldier, Nadezhda Lvova, and the marriage proved a happy one: as it later turned out, he had found not only a loving wife but also a courageous and intelligent soulmate. What more could he want?
But, moving in "high circles," among monarchs, courtiers, and generals, Turchaninov had long since shifted his focus. He was increasingly horrified by the plight of Russian serfs; he saw Russia as a land of "eternal slavery" and dreamed of a different, freer life. In 1853, he began corresponding with Herzen and became his regular correspondent. This was known not only to his friends but also to Turchaninov's superiors. However, in those relatively "vegetarian" times, this sin was not considered too serious—the heir to the throne himself was infected with "liberal ideas." And the entry in Ivan's service record wasn't so much a reproach to the young officer as it was a slightly unpleasant fact for a valiant soldier: "He is interested in the ideas of utopian socialism as expounded by Herzen." It happens, one might say. However, Turchaninov, it seems, was seriously interested in these ideas. He dreamed, if not of changing Russia, then at least of changing his own life, of finding himself in a world of freedom and progress. And soon he hatched a plan that even Herzen himself categorically disapproved of: fleeing Russia for the United States.
It's hard to say why Turchaninov had this particular image of North America—as the freest and most progressive nation in the world. Herzen, who had lived in London for a long time and had become largely an Anglophile, spoke of the former British colony rather contemptuously. In letters, he tried to dissuade his Russian correspondent from such a rash move. And when they later met in the British capital, Herzen, in his fervor, even tried to prove that feudal Russia was nothing compared to the United States, the "dollar state" with millions of enslaved blacks. However, Turchaninov was adamant: "I want to take a closer look at the only republic existing in our century and see for myself. Here in Europe, there are monarchies everywhere, but I need a republic. In a republic, I'm willing to plow the land." And so he decided to escape.
In 1856, Turchaninov's regiment was redeployed to Poland. A new Polish uprising was brewing there, and the empire was preparing for yet another "pacification." But Turchaninov took this appointment as a call to action: he summoned his wife (who had long been aware of his plans and fully supported them) to Europe. He then feigned illness, traveled to Marienbad under the pretext of taking a spa treatment, and, abandoning his military uniform and saber in a hotel room, disappeared. A few days later, the couple found themselves in London and boarded a ship bound for America. When this escape, unheard of at the time, was discovered, the emperor was furious. Turchaninov was immediately dismissed from service and demoted; if caught, he now faced a court martial. But the story of his escape was hushed up, and his actions weren't discussed publicly, because, as one of his comrades put it, "If people like Turchaninov can run, then where else can they go?"... Besides, Alexander II was just ascending the throne, and scandals over some runaway colonel weren't exactly in his interests. So they quickly forgot about Turchaninov.
One way or another, Turchaninov's excellent military career was destroyed overnight. But he didn't want to return to it. Anything but war! Even if it were true, he'd be willing to dig the earth.
Meanwhile, he was already approaching 40 years old, and starting a new life in a foreign land turned out to be far from easy. At first, he really tried to become a farmer. He and Nadine (as his wife was now called in the American manner) bought a farm on Long Island and took up agriculture. But there were more than enough farmers in America, and for the nobles arriving from Russia to compete with them was, of course, sheer madness. Turchaninov tried with all his might, developing bloody calluses on his hands, toiling day and night. But after two years, everything ended in complete financial collapse. And in general, America turned out to be not at all what he expected. It seems Herzen was right. Ivan wrote to him in despair in London: “My disappointment is complete; I do not see an ounce of real freedom here... This republic is a paradise for the rich; they are truly independent here; The most terrible crimes and the blackest machinations are paid for with money... As for me personally, I thank America for one thing: it helped me to kill the lordly prejudices outright and brought me down to the level of an ordinary mortal; ...no work is terrible for me."
One good thing: over those two years, they learned English perfectly. And, having sold what remained of the farm, they decided to move to Philadelphia. There, Nadine enrolled in medical courses, and Turchaninov (who, thanks to the military academy, still had a decent engineering education) after a short preparation passed the exams at the local college and received an engineering degree. This turned out to be perhaps the best decision he could have made: engineers were in great demand in America at the time. Very soon, Turchaninov received a position as a topographic engineer in the Illinois Railroad, and he and his wife moved to Chicago. And, in fact, they found themselves in that "paradise for the rich" about which Turchaninov wrote so sarcastically to Herzen. At least, money began to flow: a solid house, servants, dinner parties, new acquaintances... Ivan himself was now called John Basil Turchin, and in a country of emigrants, this was completely natural. Chicago wasn't yet a large city back then (though it was growing by leaps and bounds), and "high society" consisted primarily of the Illinois Railroad's management and its leading employees. The Turchaninovs became quite close with one of them—a legal consultant from Springfield who frequently visited Chicago and advised the railroad's management. His name was Abraham Lincoln. Needless to say, this meeting proved fateful.
Everything moved quickly in America back then, and Lincoln's rise from lawyer to the highest-ranking US official took only a few years. He was nominated for president in 1860, and Turchaninov was one of those who assisted him in the campaign. It was conversations with Lincoln that led him to see America differently and believe that this country truly had a bright and free future. Turchaninov wasn't alone in this, however—Lincoln had a knack for "infecting people with enthusiasm," and meeting him transformed many. But when the American Civil War began, it was Turchaninov who came to Lincoln's mind.
Well, what could he do? His military career had caught up with him again. The "Northerners" had few career soldiers, and the "Russian colonel" was offered command of the 19th Illinois Regiment, which, under his leadership, soon became one of the most disciplined and combat-ready units in the army. His superiors appreciated this, and within a few months, Turchaninov was commanding a brigade, which also received the title of model brigade, but had not yet seen any actual combat. In fact, the entire Ohio Army, under Major General Don Carlos Buell, had largely disobeyed Lincoln's orders during the first year of the Civil War and was in no hurry to engage in combat. There were even rumors that the army commander secretly sympathized with the "Southerners." Either way, Turchaninov was not satisfied with such passivity. So, conspiring with another colonel, he made a sortie against enemy positions without his superiors' knowledge.
Overall, it was a success. Turchaninov's brigade captured the cities of Nashville and Huntsville, where he immediately declared all Black slaves in the captured territory free and allowed them to enlist in the army (this happened even before Lincoln's famous Emancipation Proclamation). This caused a real sensation, and many Black people immediately rallied to the Union banner. With their help, Turchaninov captured the city of Athens, Alabama, on May 2, 1862. However, the "Russian colonel" lost his temper—and his soldiers, filled with the enthusiasm of liberators, carried out a full-blown robbery in the city, beating some locals in the process. Turchaninov, of course, restored order, but it was too late. And although he and his soldiers were greeted as heroes in Chicago, his superiors immediately court-martialed the Russian commander. The chief prosecutor was Army Commander Buell, who demanded that the culprit be expelled from the army. And since the tribunal consisted of his own officers, the decision was a foregone conclusion. However, at the last moment, shortly before the verdict was handed down, a messenger entered the courtroom and announced that Abraham Lincoln had promoted Turchaninov to the rank of general—meaning that a regular army tribunal would no longer have any power over him.
Lincoln didn't want to lose such a talented commander. And he was right: Turchaninov may have decisively decided the outcome of the American Civil War. Judge for yourself: Turchaninov not only fought in numerous battles, but also managed to write books and pamphlets on tactics that circulated throughout the Union army. His textbook, "Brigade Training," became a reference book for American officers for many years. Turchaninov also developed the tactics of rapid attacks along railroad tracks and—damn it!—designed the first armored train with cannons mounted on flatcars. It was during an attempt to attack this armored train that most of the cavalry brigade of the South's most daring horseman, Bedford Forrest (the future founder of the Ku Klux Klan), perished.
At the Battle of Chickamauga in the fall of 1863, when the Union army suffered a heavy defeat and began to retreat, John Turchin personally led his brigade in a counterattack and twice broke through the Southern line, capturing 300 prisoners and several guns, thereby stabilizing the position (In American Civil War historiography, this feat is known as the "Turchin Charge Behind Enemy Lines"). In November of that year, at Chattanooga, under heavy enemy fire, Turchin's brigade was the first to reach the top of a ridge and capture an enemy battery, which proved key to the subsequent victory. It is believed that it was thanks to this brigade that the strategic initiative on the Western Front finally passed to the Northerners. Finally, in the spring of 1864, Turchaninov participated in the famous "Raid to the Sea," and his brigade literally performed a miracle during the assault on Atlanta, dislodging the Southerners from key positions. After this, he became known as the "Russian Thunderstorm."
All this time, John's wife, Nadine (and former noblewoman Nadezhda Lvova), was by his side. She was in charge of the medical unit and also served during the battles. was on the front linesTurchaninov's health deteriorated, and he occasionally suffered fevers and hypertensive crises. Then he used Nadine as an orderly, relaying orders to the active units through her. He trusted her implicitly. It is said (though perhaps this is just a legend) that several times, when he fell into unconsciousness, Nadine quietly assumed command of the battle. In any case, she was held in almost as high esteem among the brigade soldiers as the commander. Later, "Madame Turchin" became famous as the only female memoirist of the Civil War.
Turchaninov's military career in America was far more rapid than in Russia: within a year, he became a general, within three, a legend. But it ended just as abruptly. A heart attack forced him to resign from the army, and while he was battling his illness, much happened. The war ended, Lincoln was soon assassinated, and a new America began. Not quite the one either Lincoln or Turchaninov had dreamed of. Then again, Turchaninov himself was no longer the same.
Now his health was barely sufficient to earn a living as a patent law consultant. Although the Northerners had won largely thanks to his talent, the Turchaninov family was plunged into poverty. Incidentally, they never received American citizenship, meaning they were still considered emigrants. Trying to overcome his illness, Ivan again found work as a railway engineer, but he barely had the strength for it. Barely alive with fatigue, in the evenings he would not rush to bed, but would light a kerosene lamp and sit down to work on his manuscripts. One after another, pages of the history of the Civil War, its strategic and tactical twists and turns, emerged from his pen. This work is now considered a classic.
Although they barely had enough money themselves, he and his wife tried to help all those who suffered for freedom. When, in the mid-60s, following Russia's brutal suppression of the Polish uprising, a flood of Polish émigrés poured into America, the Turchaninovs secured a plot of land for them 300 miles from Chicago, where the Polish city of Radom had been founded. They built a hospital and a school there at their own expense and helped erect a church. Turchaninov, it is said, attempted to establish some kind of commune there, but the Polish immigrants found this idea too radical. They thanked their benefactor and began self-employment in the American style.
Everywhere, his impulses proved overly romantic. America demanded pragmatism, and this repeatedly sapped Turchaninov's strength. Despair and weakness washed over him. "I made a fatal mistake by moving to the United States, in the vain hope of finding true freedom here. I passionately, to the point of a burning pain in my heart, long to return to Russia. I would agree to live forever in any remote village on the Don..." he wrote to a friend. He did indeed ask for permission to return to Russia. But in vain. Alexander II, who was once shown Turchaninov's petition, grimaced contemptuously: "Then why did he speak so ill of the Russian monarchy there, in America, at a meeting of their party? I was informed. And besides, a man who had the good fortune to serve the Russian Emperor cannot serve another country."
It was a mistake to remind people of himself. In 1869, Turchaninov was "by decree of the Governing Senate stripped of his title and rights as a subject of the Russian Empire and was henceforth not permitted to return to his homeland." In other words, in modern parlance, he was stripped of his citizenship. And he never received an American passport—appealing for one was beneath him.
It was an exceptional case, even in American history: a stateless combat general! True, as a war hero, he was nevertheless awarded a meager pension of $50 a year in the late 70s. But by that time, Turchaninov and his wife had literally lost everything. Due to unsuccessful brokerage deals (he tried to make money as a land broker), their estate and farm were seized by creditors, and the former owners were forced to live out their days in a small shack on the edge of their former property. There, Turchaninov gradually began to go mad. Alas, this is not a figure of speech. In a fit of madness, he burned some of his manuscripts and library and nearly burned down the entire house. His seizures became increasingly frequent, and soon he had to be admitted to a mental hospital, where he died on June 18, 1901, at the age of 80.
He never officially became an American. However, his grave, like that of his wife (Nadine survived her husband by only three years—just long enough for her manuscripts to be put in order), is still maintained by the US government. It is located in Mound City National Cemetery, at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, at the junction of three states: Illinois, Missouri, and Kentucky. The distance between it and the Don village where Turchaninov was born is approximately 9 kilometers as the crow flies.
