Agricultural History Review, Volume 59 Part 2 (2011), p. 341

In this excellent book, Tracy Dennison conducts a detailed investigation into Voshchazhnikovo, an estate in Iaroslavl’ province, to challenge accepted views of Russian serfdom. She is particularly critical of the continuing acceptance by many historians of elements of what she terms the ‘peasant myth’. This myth, she argues, has its root in the visions of nineteenth-century idealists rather than empirical evidence, and believes that peasants allocated land according to household size, redistributed it periodically to reflect changes in households, thereby leading to a weak sense of private property, the absence of land and labour markets, and a collective mentality that minimized risk and provided communal support. In chapters on household structure and family economy, the rural commune, land, property and labour markets, credit and savings, and consumption, Dennison demolishes this myth with respect to Voshchazhnikovo.

Ultimately, rural society could be more dynamic and ‘modern’ under serfdom than is usually portrayed. In Voshchazhnikovo, land did not equal wealth; on the contrary, land was tied to dues and the more land a family worked, the more dues they were liable to pay. Land was allocated according to a family’s ability to pay and some families did not have land. Land was bought, sold and bequeathed. As the land was relatively poor and greater profits could be made from non-agricultural activities, it made sense for many families to pay others to work their land or to rent it out. Some employed labourers or even owned their own serfs. Only 11 per cent of households made a living solely from agriculture; many males acted as migrant labourers in cities or engaged in estate-based manufacturing enterprises. Serfs took out loans for investments, saved, and lent money to other serfs. There was also an expanding market for clothing, jewellery and materials for house improvements.

Dennison’s research, then, reinforces earlier work that stressed the diversity of the serf economy, whilst revealing a range of activities that one would assume could not exist under serfdom. Legally, serfs could not own land or other serfs, and the fact that they did in Voshchazhnikovo was due to the policies of its owners, the Sheremetevs. They allowed serfs to buy and sell property in their name. They protected the rights of owners, settled disputes, and oversaw all important issues concerning serfs’ lives, from households and marriage to conscription and trade. In some respects, these practices support the view of serfdom as a repressive and arbitrary system, yet in the hands of owners like the Sheremetevs, who remained impartial and consistent in their policies across generations and estates, these practices formed a reliable framework in which serfs could work, live and pursue individual interests.

The role of the serf owner, therefore, was crucial and the Sheremetevs were not typical. As one of the richest families in Russia, they were able to maintain a central management office in St Petersburg for all their estates, and could afford to draw up and enforce numerous policies. They understood that permitting greater diversity on their estates benefited them financially; serfs, for example, paid for their help in purchasing land and, on becoming wealthier, paid higher dues. Most serf owners were smaller, enacting inconsistent policies as they could not afford to manage a complicated social and economic structure like Voshchazhnikovo. Equally, the Sheremetevs’ policies were only valid on their estates. In the state’s eyes, property owned by the Sheremetevs’ serfs remained the property of the Sheremetevs. If the Sheremetevs had decided to seize this property, then their serfs could do nothing.

Thus, Dennison rephrases the old question: it is not so much that serfdom was uniformly restrictive across Russia, but more a case that Russia could have been more advanced without it. That said, she raises the interesting point that serfdom’s abolition in 1861 actually represented a regression for estates like Voshchazhnikovo. By removing the role of the Sheremetevs without replacing it with full legal rights for peasants, the state made Voshchazhnikovo’s peasants worse off in many ways, even if they were now free.

Dennison’s book helps historians re-examine Russian serfdom in productive ways. Her evidence is fascinating and often reveals new aspects to serfdom, even if her stress on the impact of serfdom as an institution is not always as innovative as she implies; after all, as her footnotes make clear, in most places she is contributing to existing debates. Nonetheless, Voshchazhnikovo was a different type of estate to those studied by other historians, owned by a different family in a different geographical area, and consequently her findings help construct a more detailed and complex picture of serfdom. Furthermore, Dennison has an impressive grasp of the relevant research on the peasantry of western and central Europe, enabling her to draw wide-ranging comparisons. Russia’s experiences come across as a variant of Europe’s, rather than completely distinct as is often implied, and this is true of much of Russia’s historical development.