CHAPTER V.

THE REVOLUTION AND THE IMPERIAL FAMILY.

Alone in the Governor's old Palace at Mohilev the Czar suffered in silence; his wife and children were far away, and there was no one with him in whom he was able or willing to confide.

Protopopov and the Government had at first represented the state of affairs as serious, but not alarming--popular disturbances to be suppressed with "a firm hand." Several hundred machine-guns had been placed at the disposal of General Habalov, Commander of the troops of the Petrograd district. Both he and Prince Golitzin, President of the Cabinet, had been given full authority to make use of exceptional means of quelling the riots. On the morning of the 27th General Ivanov had been despatched with a small detachment of troops and a secret warrant, to be made public after the occupation of Czarskoe Selo. The warrant invested him with full military and civic powers. No one could have been less fitted than General Ivanov to occupy so highly important a position, which amounted actually to a Military Dictatorship. Ivanov was a very old man--an honest soldier, unfitted to cope with political complications and no longer in possession of strength, energy, will-power, or determination.... His success in dealing with the Kronstadt disturbances of 1906 most probably suggested his present nomination.

Afterwards, when looking over Habalov's and Bieliaiev's[6] reports, I was aghast at the pusillanimity and the shirking of responsibility which they revealed.

The clouds continue to darken.

On February 26th the Empress wired to the Czar: "Am very anxious about the state of affairs in town...." On the same day Rodzianko sent his historic telegram: "Position serious. Anarchy in the capital. Government paralysed. Transport, supplies of fuel and other necessaries completely disorganised. General discontent grows. Disorderly firing in the streets. Military units fire at each other. Imperative necessity that some person popular in the country should be authorised to form new Cabinet. No delay possible. Any delay fatal. I pray God that the Monarch be not now held responsible." Rodzianko forwarded copies of his telegram to all the Commanders-in-Chief, asking their support.

Early on the 27th the President of the Duma wired again to the Czar: "Position constantly aggravated. Measures must be taken immediately, as to-morrow may be too late. This hour decides the fate of our country and the dynasty."

It is incredible that, after this, the Czar should not have realised the impending catastrophe, but, in the weakness and irresolution that characterised him, it is probable that he seized the slightest available excuse to postpone his decision, and in a fatalistic manner, left to fate to carry out her secret decrees....

Be that as it may, another impressive warning from General Alexeiev, confirmed by telegrams from the Commanders-in-Chief, yielded no better results, and the Czar, anxious about the fate of his family, left for Czarskoe Selo on the morning of the 29th, without coming to any final decision on the concessions to be granted to his people.

General Alexeiev, although straightforward, wise, and patriotic, was lacking in firmness, and his power and influence with the Emperor were too slight to permit of his insisting on a step the obvious necessity for which was evident even to the Empress. She wired to her husband on the 27th: "Concessions inevitable."

The futile journey was two days in accomplishment. Two days without any correspondence or news as to the course of events, which were developing and changing every hour.... The Imperial train, taking a roundabout course, was stopped at Vishera by orders from Petrograd. On hearing that the Petrograd garrison had acclaimed the Provisional Committee of the Duma, and that the troops of Czarskoe Selo had sided with the Revolution, the Czar returned to Pskov.

At Pskov, on the evening of March 1st, the Czar saw General Ruzsky, who explained the position to him, but no decision was arrived at, except that on the 2nd of March, at 2 a.m., the Czar again sent for Ruzsky, and handed him an ukase, which made the Cabinet responsible to the Duma. "I knew that this compromise had come too late," said Ruzsky to a correspondent, "but I had no right to express my opinion, not having received any instructions from the Executive Committee of the Duma, so I suggested that the Emperor should see Rodzianko."[7]

All night long discussions full of deep interest and importance to the fate of the country were held over the wire--between Ruzsky, Rodzianko, and Alexeiev; between Headquarters and the Commanders-in-Chief, and between Lukomsky[8] and Danilov.[9]

They unanimously agreed that the Abdication of the Emperor was unavoidable.

Before midday on March 2nd Ruzsky communicated the opinion of Rodzianko and the Military Commanders to the Czar. The Emperor heard him calmly, with no sign of emotion on his fixed, immovable countenance, but at 3 p.m. he sent Ruzsky a signed Act of Abdication in favour of his son--a document drawn up at Headquarters and forwarded to him at Pskov.

If the sequence of historical events follows immutable laws of its own, there also seems to be a fate influencing casual happenings of a simple, everyday nature, which otherwise seem quite avoidable. The thirty minutes that elapsed after Ruzsky had received the Act of Abdication materially affected the whole course of subsequent events: before copies of the document could be despatched, a communication, announcing the delegates of the Duma, Gutchkov and Shulgin, was received.... The Czar again postponed his decision and stopped the publication of the Act.

The delegates arrived in the evening.

Amidst the complete silence of the audience,[10] Gutchkov pictured the abyss that the country was nearing, and pointed out the only course to be taken--the abdication of the Czar.

"I have been thinking about it all yesterday and to-day, and have decided to abdicate," answered the Czar. "Until three o'clock to-day I was willing to abdicate in favour of my son, but I then came to realise that I could not bear to part with him. I hope you will understand this? As a consequence, I have decided to abdicate in favour of my brother."

The delegates, taken aback by such an unexpected turn of events, made no objection. Emotion kept Gutchkov silent. "He felt he could not intrude on paternal relations, and considered that any pressure brought to bear upon the Emperor would be out of place." Shulgin was influenced by political motives. "He feared the little Czar might grow up harbouring feelings of resentment against those who had parted him from his father and mother; also the question whether a regent could take the oath to the Constitution on behalf of an Emperor, who was not of age was a matter of debate."[11]

"The resentment" of the little Czar concerned a distant future. As to legality, the very essence of a Revolution precludes the legality of its consequences. Also the _enforced_ abdication of Nicholas II., his rejection of the rights of inheritance of _his son_, a minor, and, lastly, the transfer of supreme power by Michael Alexandrovitch, a person who _had never_ held it, to the Provisional Government by means of an act, in which the Grand Duke "appeals" to Russian citizens to obey the Government, are all of doubtful legality.

It is not surprising that, "in the minds of those living in those first days of the Revolution"--as Miliukov says--"the new Government, established by the Revolution, was looked upon, not as a consequence of the acts of March 2nd and 3rd, but as a result of the events of February 27th...."

I may add that later, in the minds of many Commanding Officers--amongst them, Kornilov, Alexeiev, Romanovsky and Markov, who played a leading part in the attempt to save Russia--legal, party or dynastic considerations had no place. This circumstance is of primary importance for a proper understanding of subsequent events.

About midnight on March 2nd the Czar handed Rodzianko and Ruzsky two slightly amended copies of the Manifesto of his Abdication.

* * * * *

"In the midst of our great conflict with a foreign enemy, who has been striving for close on three years to enslave our country, it has been the will of God to subject Russia to new and heavy trials. Incipient popular disturbances now imperil the further course of the stubborn war. The fate of Russia, the honour of our heroic Army, the entire future of our beloved Land, demand that the war should be carried to a victorious conclusion.

"The cruel foe is nearly at his last gasp, and the hour approaches when our gallant Army, together with our glorious Allies, will finally crush our enemy's resistance. In these decisive days of Russia's existence we feel it our duty to further the firm cohesion and unification of all the forces of the people, and, with the approval of the State Duma, consider it best to abdicate the Throne of Russia and lay down our supreme power. Not wishing to part from our beloved Son, we transmit our inheritance to our Brother, the Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovitch, and give him our blessing in ascending the Throne of the Russian Empire.

"We command our Brother to rule the State in complete and undisturbed union with the representatives of the people in such Legislative Institutions as the People will see fit to establish, binding himself by oath thereto in the name of our beloved country.

"I call all true sons of the Fatherland to fulfil their sacred duty--to obey the Czar in this time of sore distress and help him, together with the representatives of the people, to lead the Russian State along the road to victory, happiness and glory.

"May the Lord our God help Russia!

"NICHOLAS."

* * * * *

Late at night the Imperial train left for Mohilev. Dead silence, lowered blinds and heavy, heavy thoughts. No one will ever know what feelings wrestled in the breast of Nicholas II., of the Monarch, the Father and the Man, when, on meeting Alexeiev at Mohilev, and looking straight at the latter with kindly, tired eyes, he said irresolutely:--

_"I have changed my mind. Please send this telegram to Petrograd."_

_On a small sheet of paper, in a clear hand, the Czar had himself traced his consent to the immediate accession to the throne of his son, Alexis_....

Alexeiev took the telegram, and--did not send it. It was too late; both Manifestoes had already been made public to the Army and to the country.

For fear of "unsettling public opinion," Alexeiev made no mention of the telegram, and kept it in his portfolio until he passed it on to me towards the end of May, when he resigned his post of Supreme Commander-in-Chief. The document, of vast importance to future biographers of the Czar, was afterwards kept under seal at the Operations Department of General Headquarters.

* * * * *

Meantime, the members of the Cabinet and of the Provisional Committee[12] had assembled at the Palace of the Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovitch about midday on May 3rd. Since the 27th of February, the latter had been cut off from all communication with Headquarters or with the Emperor. But the issue of this Conference was practically predetermined by the spirit prevailing in the Soviet of Workmen's Delegates, after the gist of the Manifesto became known to them, by the Resolution of Protest passed by their Executive Committee and forwarded to the Government, by Kerensky's uncompromising attitude, and by the general correlation of forces. Except Miliukov and Gutchkov, all the others, "without the faintest desire of influencing the Grand Duke in any way," eagerly advised him to abdicate. Miliukov warned them that "the support of a symbol familiar to the masses is necessary, if decided authority is to be maintained, and that the Provisional Government, if left alone, might founder in the sea of popular disturbances, and that it might not survive until the Convocation of the Constituent Assembly...."

After another conference with Rodzianko, President of the Duma, the Grand Duke came to his final decision to abdicate.

The "Declaration" of the Grand Duke was published on the same day:

"A heavy burden has been laid on me by the wish of my Brother, who has transferred the Imperial Throne of All Russia to me at a time of unexampled warfare and popular disturbances.

"Animated, together with the nation, by one thought, that the welfare of our country must prevail over every other consideration, I have decided to accept supreme power only if such be the will of our great people, whose part it is to establish the form of government and new fundamental laws of the Russian State through their representatives in the Constituent Assembly.

"With a prayer to God for His blessing, I appeal to all citizens of the Russian State to obey the Provisional Government, which is constituted and invested with full powers by the will of the State Duma, until a Constituent Assembly, convoked at the earliest possible moment by universal, direct, equal and secret suffrage, can establish a form of government which will embody the will of the people."

"MICHAEL."

After his abdication, the Grand Duke resided in the neighbourhood of Gatchino, and stood completely aloof from political life. About the middle of March, 1918, he was arrested by order of the local Bolshevik Committee, taken to Petrograd, and, some time later, exiled to the Government of Perm.

It was rumoured that the Grand Duke, accompanied by his faithful English valet, had escaped about the middle of July; since then nothing definite has been heard about him. The search organised by the Siberian Government and by that of Southern Russia, as also by the desire of the Dowager Empress, yielded no certain results. The Bolsheviks, for their part, volunteered no official information whatever. But subsequent investigations brought some data to light which indicated that the "release" was a deception, and that the Grand Duke was secretly carried off by Bolsheviks, murdered in the vicinity of Perm, and his body drowned under the ice.

The mystery of the Grand Duke's fate gave rise to fanciful rumours and even to the appearance of impostors in Siberia. During the summer of 1918, at the time of the first successful advance of the Siberian troops, it was widely reported both in Soviet Russia and in the South that the Siberian Anti-Bolshevist forces were led by the Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovitch. Periodically, until late in 1919, his spurious manifestoes appeared in the Provincial Press, chiefly in papers of the extreme Right.

It must be noted, however, that when, in the summer of 1918, the Kiev monarchists carried on an active campaign to impart a monarchical character to the Anti-Bolshevist military movement, they rejected the principle of legitimacy, partly because of the personality of some of the candidates, and, in regard to Michael Alexandrovitch, because he had "tied himself" by a solemn promise to the Constituent Assembly.

In consideration of the complexity and confusion of the conditions that obtained in March, 1917, I have come to the conclusion that a struggle to retain Nicholas II. at the head of the State would have led to anarchy, disruption of the Front, and terrible consequences, both for the Czar and for the country. A Regency, with Michael Alexandrovitch as Regent, might have involved conflict, but no disturbance, and was certain of success. It would have been more difficult to place Michael Alexandrovitch on the throne, but even that would have been possible if a Constitution on broad, democratic lines had been accepted by him.

The members of the Provisional Government and of the Provisional Committee--Miliukov and Gutchkov excepted--terrorised by the Soviets of Workmen's Delegates, and attributing too much importance to them and to the excited workmen and soldier masses in Petrograd, took on themselves a heavy responsibility for the future when they persuaded the Grand Duke to decline the immediate assumption of Supreme Power.[13]

I am not referring to Monarchism or to a particular dynasty. These are secondary questions. I am speaking of Russia only.

It is certainly hard to say whether this power would have been lasting and stable, whether it would not have undergone changes later on; but, if it had even succeeded in maintaining the Army during the war, the subsequent course of Russian history might have been one of progress, and the upheavals that now endanger her very existence might have been avoided.

* * * * *

On March 7th the Provisional Government issued an order according to which "The ex-Emperor and his Consort are deprived of liberty, and the ex-Emperor is to be taken to Czarskoe Selo." The duty of arresting the Empress was laid on Kornilov, and orthodox Monarchists never forgave him for it. But, strangely enough, Alexandra Fedorovna, after hearing of the warrant, expressed her satisfaction that the renowned General Kornilov, and not a member of the new Government, had been sent to her.

The Emperor was arrested by four members of the Duma.

On March 8th, after leave-takings at Headquarters, the Czar quitted Mohilev amidst the stony silence of the crowd, and under the tearful eyes of his mother, who never saw her son again.

To understand the seemingly incomprehensible behaviour of the Government to the Imperial family during the period of their residence both at Czarskoe Selo and at Tobolsk, the following circumstances must be kept in mind. Notwithstanding that, in the seven and a half months of the existence of the Provisional Government, not one single serious attempt was made to liberate the captives, yet they attracted the exclusive attention of the Soviet of Workmen and Soldiers' Delegates. On March 10th Vice-President Sokolov made the following announcement to a unanimously approving audience: "I was informed yesterday that the Provisional Government had consented to allow Nicholas II. to go to England and that it is discussing arrangements with the British authorities without the knowledge or the consent of the Executive Committee of Workmen's and Soldiers' Delegates. We have mobilised all the military units that we can influence, and have taken measures to prevent Nicholas II. from leaving Czarskoe without our permission. Telegrams have been sent down the railway lines ... to detain the train of Nicholas II. should it appear.... We have despatched our Commissars with the necessary number of troops and armoured cars, and have closely surrounded the Alexander Palace. After that we conferred with the Provisional Government, who confirmed all our orders. At present the late Czar is under our protection, as well as under that of the Provisional Government...."

On the 1st August, 1917, the Imperial family was exiled to Tobolsk, and, after the establishment of Bolshevist rule in Siberia, they were transferred to Ekaterinburg, and were the victims of incredible insults and cruelty by the mob, until they were put to death.[14] Thus did Nicholas II. atone for his grievous sins, voluntary and involuntary, against the Russian people.[15]

In the course of the second Kuban campaign I received the news of the death of the Emperor Nicholas II., and ordered memorial services for the soul of the former leader of the Russian Army to be held in the Volunteer Army. Democratic circles and the Press criticised me severely for this.

The words of wisdom, _Vengeance is mine: I will repay_, were obviously forgotten.