Website of the Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk and Kuril Diocese
It is not the promised land but deserted, with nomadic herds of wild goats freely breeding in the valley of the great Amur River. From ancient times it belonged to a small Tungus tribe that lived peacefully in its vast steppes until the Yakut Cossacks came to collect yasak1 and conquer the native peoples. They found the Daur tribe in the valleys of the Nigoda, the Shilka, the Argun and the Amur Rivers and named their land “Dauria Country”.
This land has its own history. It’s not rich, but very edifying.
The first conquerors, Cossacks and other freemen, were devoted to religion and, moving to the East of the Tsardom of Siberia, often took priests and monks with them to perform the services of need and the sacraments. They brought to the pagan environment Orthodox traditions and Christianity, which opposed the rituals of shamans who roamed the wild steppes and sacrificed animals to idols. In those days the attitude of the natives to Orthodoxy was such that they regarded those baptized as “dead” and mourned them.
From time to time, missionary priests would visit the Yakut and the Tungus tribes wandering in the Amur valleys to preach Christianity and celebrate church services. The clergy’s journeys were solitary and dangerous. They would travel hundreds of miles off-road on sleds drawn by reindeer or dogs, through the deep snow and in severe frosts (-40 degrees Celsius) from which even locals would become short of breath and have chest pain. They always took provisions for themselves and their reindeer.
There were neither villages, nor stations, nor inns in these remote areas to find where they could find shelter from the cold. They spent the nights wherever they were—under the open sky in the snow, and more often under the snow, caught by blizzards. A Siberian snowstorm was the worst thing that could happen on their way. When a gale caught up with snow clouds and covered the sky, they just had to wait patiently for its end. A sled was tipped over onto the nearest bush against the wind, soon it was covered with a snowdrift, after which the snow was dug away to the ground and a fire was lit at the entrance to the shelter. Thus they hid from a snowstorm for a day or two, and sometimes even longer. Before going outside, they would tie themselves to the sled with a rope so as not to lose sight of it, because blizzards were so strong that an outstretched arm could not be seen.
This is how a traveling priest described his days in a travel diary:
“Living in a dark, cramped tent with two small windows sealed with pieces of ice instead of glass, I was doomed to bitter loneliness and could not dream about any tolerable environment, let alone comfort. The austere and most unsightly picture of my quiet and monotonous life day after day resembled if not the fate of a prisoner, then the life of a real hermit. The only person I could speak to was a Yakut who lived with me—a semi-savage, sluggish and immobile man by nature. Under such conditions, I did not resort to the services of my undeveloped companion and combined in myself the duties of cook, laundress, and worker” (Report to the Committee, 1892).
Archbishop Nilus (Isakovich) In 1844, at the request of His Eminence Nilus (Isakovich) two “field” churches were set up in the Yakut region,2 with two priests assigned to each. Fr. Nikita Zapolsky and his close friend Fr. Dimitry Khitrov, the future Bishop Dionisy of Yakutia, were appointed to serve at one of the churches. Every year they traveled 10,000 miles to reach remote places in the region.
Bishop Dionisy wrote in his travel diaries:
“In 1844, at the request of His Eminence Nilus, His Imperial Majesty ordered two field churches to be founded in the Yakut region with two priests attached to each. His Eminence invited me and my companion Zapolsky to take this ministry on ourselves. We both agreed, and every year we traveled up to 10,000 miles, visiting almost all the parishes of the Verkhoyansk and the Kolymskoye districts, as well as remote places in the Yakutsk District, such as the Oymyakon area, Allakh-Yun (along the Okhotsk road), Nelkan (along the Ayan road), the Uchur and the Temten (tributaries of the Aldan River) and the territory where the Tungus people roam in the upper reaches of the Olekma River, and Zapolsky even made his way through the Yablonovy Ridge to the Zeya River and, sailing along the Amur to the Pacific Ocean, returned through Ayan, Nelzhan and Ustman to Yakutsk. Those journeys were associated with incredible difficulties. For several months in a row, we spent nights in the snow in the open air with sharp polar frosts, which caused the premature deaths of some of our priests, while the others suffered from scurvy for several years, which completely ruined their health.”
Fr. Nikita Zapolsky was the only one who managed to get through the Yablonovy Ridge and reach the Zeya, and then along the Amur River to the Pacific Ocean. Almost every year Fr. Nikita made long and incredibly hard journeys to the Arctic Ocean and the tributaries of the Amur River. Sometimes on horseback and on reindeer, sometimes in dog-sleds, and sometimes on foot through barren deserts, where there were no roads or traces of human habitation at a distance of several hundred or even thousands of miles. The further north he went, the more lifeless and rigid the nature was. The missionary could see the horizons of an icy desert, almost without vegetation, with a smooth surface of tundra and lakes, and the blinding light of the sun and the ice, unbearable to human eyes. He more than once lost his way, risking dying of hunger, freezing to death, or being covered by the snow during snowstorms. Snowstorms were especially severe near the Arctic Ocean.
Fr. Nikita’s journeys did not last a week or a month, but almost a year.
“It’s frightful and dangerous to ride over this icy area, where the sun doesn’t appear on the horizon for about two months and doesn’t set for the same amount of time in the summer. In the first case you can hardly undertake long-distance journeys in permanent darkness; in the second, the unbearable heat from the sun, which heats the air and earth, brings the traveler to extreme exhaustion over two months. In addition, the vast expanses of melting swamps, with swarms of mosquitoes, gadflies and other insects over them, as well as torrential rains, overflowing streams and rivers, are more dangerous and more terrifying for the traveler than the severe winter frosts. Be that as it may, in both summer and winter many people die suddenly in these parts” (Bishop Dionisy’s Travel Diary).
Over time, the Word of God reached the wild lands of the upper Amur and the Zeya: those places where wild children of nature, the Oroch people, roamed with their herds of reindeer in the vast expanses of the impenetrable taiga, along the upper courses of the rivers. Many of them had long been baptized in Transbaikalia or in the Yakut region, but there were still many pagans who did not yet know the Christian faith. In 1853, by order of the diocesan authorities, a mission was sent from the church in Nikolayevsk-on-Amur (now in the Khabarovsk territory) to the Northeastern part of the Yakut region.
Once again, the only missionary who was not afraid of the Amur’s remoteness from Yakutsk, the total absence of roads, the harsh frosty winters and the incredibly difficult search for nomadic natives who roamed deep in the wild forests along the banks of rivers, lakes and impassable swamps, was Priest Nikita Zapolsky.
On October 6, 1854, he embarked on another journey to the Amur River.
Having sailed upstream the Aldan River and crossed the Stanovoy Range, Zapolsky reached the valley of the Zeya River, went to the mouth of the Vilyuy River and turned into the Amur taiga in search of native nomads. All day long Fr. Nikita and his church server would go on foot, conserving the energy of the weary reindeer. For months they trudged, exhausted from hunger and cold, without meeting a single living soul. They spent seven months in the open air, eating whatever they could find. Sometimes they met Oroch people who had not seen a single priest for ten to fifteen years.
In such conditions Fr. Nikita baptized 120 people, performed eighty weddings, confessed 300 people and gave Communion to 200.
St. Innocent (Veniaminov) Despite the good results of his missionary work among the natives, Fr. Nikita Zapolsky came to the conclusion that such journeys from Yakutsk would be impossible in the future. Such a long journey was too perilous and complicated. Returning home in May 1855, he wrote to His Eminence Innocent of Kamchatka:
“It is inconvenient to assign those living along the Zeya River and its tributaries to any parish due to their remoteness. It would be good to establish a special parish there and set up a church on the Zeya. For the Tungus people assigned to the Ussuriysk missionary district roam near this place along the Nuyama and the Selimdzha Rivers, where the priest from the Uda district travels, and the Tungus people of the Nerchinsk district, many of whom are not even baptized, and local priests do not go to them.”
In 1859, His Eminence Innocent again sent Archpriest Nikita on a mission to the Zeya in order to put missionary work among the natives on a solid foundation. Fr. Nikita left Yakutsk on November 8, 1859, and did not return home (along the Amur and the Sea of Okhotsk through Ayan) until September 10, 1860, having covered 8000 miles. On his second journey he had no fewer hardships and difficulties than on the first one. Throughout the winter, from November to April, he did not see a single warm corner. The smoky and cold yurts of Tungus people were rare. The route from the Amur to the Zeya lay through high and steep mountains covered with deep snow. Descents from the mountains were fraught with the risks of falling into a precipice. The crossing of the pass lasted twelve days. That winter the frosts were severe and often accompanied by strong gusty winds, but more often by bone-chilling light breezes. With the onset of spring, on his way home through the Amur taiga, Zapolsky contracted scurvy and could hardly move. He received medical treatment in Albazin.
Over that time he baptized up to 150 babies, performed eighty weddings, gave Communion to 200 people and confessed about 100.
The deep snow that fell that winter in the upper reaches of the Zeya blocked his way, cutting him off from the Oroch people, so he did not do everything he had planned.
On returning to Yakutsk, Archpriest Zapolsky described a full picture to His Eminence Innocent of the conditions of the traveling priests’ service. Given the great distance and difficulties of the journey from Yakutsk to the Amur, the incredible risks and costs borne by missionary priests, he insisted on establishing an independent mission for the conversion of nomadic peoples.
Fr. Nikita Zapolsky carried out his missionary duties for almost twenty years. His labors were truly apostolic, and his preaching was so powerful that he received several hundred pagans into the Orthodox Church. Under his leadership several parishes were opened in the Polar region, which eliminated the need for missionaries.
Fr. Nikita was loved and respected by everybody in Yakutsk. The doors of the Zapolsky family’s house were opened to all: rich and poor, noble and commoners—everybody came to him for protection and counsel; he was affectionate with everyone and did not deny support to anyone. No matter who came to him—be it a priest or a church server of his deanery—he treated everyone equally. When someone was in trouble, he comforted sufferers as much as he could, and when someone committed a sin, instead of reproaching him or denouncing him to the superiors he convinced him to improve. On becoming the head of a deanery, Fr. Nikita Zapolsky reconciled the rural clergy, and no one could recall him ever insulting anyone with a word.
Fr. Nikita Zapolsky’s last mission was a journey to the Amur River in 1862 by order of His Eminence Innocent. He was asked to find out which of the Tungus living between the Amur River and the Yakut region should be assigned to the Amur mission and which should be left under the jurisdiction of the missionaries from Yakutia. That journey lasted more than six months. From Yakutsk Zapolsky rode reindeer to Albazin through places where only Tungus people had ever set foot before, namely along the Andau River through rapids to the Yagodny Ridge. Many hardships awaited him there. Fr. Nikita’s health, which had been undermined by the earlier journeys, could not withstand it, and he returned to Yakutsk with severe liver disease, from which he died soon after.
Archpriest Nikita Zapolsky foresaw his imminent death. Despite the request of his wife and children, he refused to buy new boots at a fair, and when his wife bought him some cloth for a cassock, he forbade her to sew it, because “the cloth would be useful to them”. During confession to his spiritual father, Fr. Nikita repented of his sins before the Lord and received Communion. He asked his father-confessor not to tell his family about his imminent repose beforehand.
Bishop Pavel (Popov) On the final day of his life, he got up early in the morning and, while everyone was asleep, walked around the rooms, praying in front of each icon. At two in the morning on August 23, 1863, he passed away at the age of forty-five and was buried at the Monastery of Christ the Savior in the city of Yakutsk.
The Liturgy was celebrated by His Eminence Pavel, Bishop of Yakutsk, with six clergymen, and the funeral service was attended by all the urban clergy of Yakutsk and by some rural clergy.
Fr. Nikita Zapolsky left large debts after his death. Frequent missions and a large family required high expenses. But once the news of his death had spread through the city, almost all the creditors came to his widow and destroyed their debt documents in front of the family.
Almost the whole of Yakutsk was present at Fr. Nikita Zapolsky’s funeral. The people bid farewell to their benefactor, accompanying him on his last journey with tears and kind words.
To be continued…
