CHAPTER VII.

IMPRESSIONS OF PETROGRAD AT THE END OF MARCH, 1917.

Before his abdication the Emperor signed two ukazes--appointing Prince Lvov President of the Council of Ministers and the Grand-Duke Nicholas Supreme Commander-in-Chief. "In view of the general attitude towards the Romanov Dynasty," as the official Petrograd papers said, and in reality for fear of the Soviet's attempting a military _coup d'état_, the Grand-Duke Nicholas was informed on March 9th by the Provisional Government that it was undesirable that he should remain in supreme command. Prince Lvov wrote: "The situation makes your resignation imperative. Public opinion is definitely and resolutely opposed to any members of the House of Romanov holding any office in the State. The Provisional Government is not entitled to disregard the voice of the people, because such disregard might bring about serious complications. The Provisional Government is convinced that, for the good of the country, you will bow to the necessity and will resign before returning to G.H.Q." This letter reached the Grand-Duke when he had already arrived at G.H.Q. Deeply offended, he immediately handed over to General Alexeiev and replied to the Government: "I am glad once more to prove my love for my country, which Russia _heretofore_ has never doubted...."

The very serious question then arose of who was to succeed him. There was great excitement at G.H.Q., and all sorts of rumours were circulated, but on the day I passed Mohilev nothing was known. On the 23rd I reported to the War Minister Gutchkov, whom I had never met before. He informed me that the Government had decided to appoint General Alexeiev to the Supreme Command. At first there had been differences of opinion. Rodzianko and others were against Alexeiev. Rodzianko suggested Brussilov; but now the choice had definitely fallen on Alexeiev. The Government considered him as a man of lenient disposition, and deemed it necessary to reinforce the Supreme Command by a fighting general as Chief-of-Staff. I had been selected on condition that General Klembovski, who was then Alexeiev's assistant, should remain in charge _pro tem._ until I became familiar with the work. I had been, in part, prepared for this offer by the news columns of the Kiev paper. Nevertheless, I felt a certain emotion, and apprehended the vast amount of work which was being thrust upon me so unexpectedly and the tremendous moral responsibility inherent in such an appointment. At great length and quite sincerely I adduced arguments against the appointment. I said that my career had been spent among my men and at Fighting Headquarters, that during the war I had commanded a division and an army corps, and that I was very anxious to continue this work at the front. I said that I had never dealt with matters of policy, of national defence, or of administration on such a colossal scale. The appointment, moreover, had an unpleasant feature. It appears that Gutchkov had quite frankly explained to Alexeiev the reasons for my appointment on behalf of the Provisional Government, and had given the matter the character of an ultimatum. A grave complication had thus arisen. A Chief-of-Staff was being imposed upon the Supreme C.-in-C., and for motives not altogether complimentary to the latter. My arguments, however, were unavailing. I succeeded in obtaining a delay and the privilege of discussing the matter with General Alexeiev before taking a definite decision. In the War Minister's office I met my colleague, General Krymov, and we were both present while the Minister's assistants reported on uninteresting matters of routine. We then retired into the next room and began to talk frankly.

"For God's sake," said Krymov, "don't refuse the appointment. It is absolutely necessary."

He imparted to me his impressions in abrupt sentences in his own peculiar and somewhat rough language, but with all his usual sincerity. He had arrived on March 14th, summoned by Gutchkov, with whom he had been on friendly terms, and they had worked together. He was offered several prominent posts, had asked leave to look round, and then had refused them all. "I saw that there was nothing for me to do in Petrograd, and I disliked it all." He particularly disliked the men who surrounded Gutchkov.

"I am leaving Colonel Samarine, of the General Staff, as a Liaison Officer. There will be at least one live man."

By the irony of fate that officer whom Krymov trusted so well afterwards played a fatal part, as he was the indirect cause of the General's suicide.... Krymov was very pessimistic in his account of the political situation:

"Nothing will come of it in any case. How can business be done when the Soviet and the licentious soldiery hold the Government pinioned? I offered to cleanse Petrograd in two days with one division; but, of course, not without bloodshed. 'Not for anything in the world,' they said. Gutchkov refused. Prince Lvov, with a gesture of despair, exclaimed: 'Oh! but there would be such a commotion!' Things will get worse. One of these days I shall go back to my army corps. I cannot afford to lose touch with the troops, as it is upon them that I base all my hopes. My corps maintains complete order and, perhaps, I shall succeed in preserving that spirit."

* * * * *

I had not seen Petrograd for four years. The impression produced by the Capital was painful and strange.... To begin with, the Hotel Astoria, where I stayed, had been ransacked. In the hall there was a guard of rough and undisciplined sailors of the Guards. The streets were crowded, but dirty and filled with the new masters of the situation in khaki overcoats. Remote from the sufferings of the front, they were "deepening and saving" the Revolution. From whom? I had read a great deal about the enthusiasm in Petrograd, but I found none. It was nowhere to be seen. The ministers and rulers were pale, haggard, exhausted by sleepless nights and endless speeches at meetings and councils, by addresses to various delegations and to the mob. Their excitement was artificial, their oratory was full of sonorous phrases and commonplaces, of which the orators themselves were presumably thoroughly sick. Inwardly in their heart of hearts they were deeply anxious. No practical work was being done; in fact, the ministers had no time to concentrate their thoughts upon the current affairs of State in their departments. The old bureaucratic machine, creaking and groaning, continued to work in a haphazard manner. The old wheels were still revolving while a new handle was being applied.

The officers of the regular army felt themselves to be stepsons of the Revolution and were unable to hit upon a proper tone in dealing with the men. Among the higher ranks, and especially the officers of the General Staff, there appeared already a new type of opportunist and demagogue. These men played upon the weaknesses of the Soviet and of the new governing class of workmen and soldiers, to flatter the instincts of the crowd, thereby gaining their confidence and making new openings for themselves and for their careers against the background of revolutionary turmoil. I must, however, admit that in those days the military circles proved sufficiently stolid in spite of all the efforts to dismember them, and that the seeds of demoralisation were not allowed to grow. Men of the type described above, such as the young assistant of the War Minister, Kerensky, as well as Generals Brussilov, Cheremissov, Bonch-Bruevitch, Verkhovsky, Admiral Maximov and others were unable to strengthen their influence and their position with the officers.

The citizen of Petrograd, in the broadest sense of the word, was by no means enthusiastic. The first enthusiasm was exhausted and was followed by anxiety and indecision.

Another feature of the life in Petrograd deserves to be noticed. Men have ceased to be themselves. Most of them seem to be acting a part instead of living a life inspired by the new breath of revolution. Such was the case even in the Councils of the Provisional Government, in which the deliberations were not altogether sincere, so I was told, owing to the presence of Kerensky, the "hostage of democracy." Tactical considerations, caution, partisanship, anxiety for one's career, feelings of self-preservation, nervousness and various other good and bad feelings prompted men to wear blinkers and to walk about in these blinkers as apologists for, or at least passive witnesses of, "the conquests of the Revolution." Such conquests as obviously savoured of death and corruption. Hence the false pathos of endless speeches and meetings; hence these seemingly strange contradictions. Prince Lvov saying in a public speech: "The process of the great Russian Revolution is not yet complete, but every day strengthens our faith in the inexhaustible creative forces of the Russian people, in its statesmanlike wisdom and in the greatness of its soul."... The same Prince Lvov bitterly complaining to Alexeiev of the impossible conditions under which the Provisional Government was working, owing to the rapid growth of demagogy in the Soviet and in the country. Kerensky, the exponent of the idea of Soldiers' Committees, and Kerensky sitting in his railway carriage and nervously whispering to his adjutant: "Send these d.... committees to h...." Tchkheidze and Skobelev warmly advocating full democratisation of the army at a joint sitting of the Soviet, of the Government and of the Commanders-in-Chief, and during an interval in private conversation admitting the necessity of rigid military discipline and of their own incapacity to convince the Soviet of this necessity....

I repeat that even then, at the end of March, one could clearly feel in Petrograd that the ringing of the Easter bells had lasted too long, and that they would have done better to ring the alarm bell. There were only two men of all those to whom I had the occasion to speak who had no illusions whatever: Krymov and Kornilov.

* * * * *

I met Kornilov for the first time on the Galician plains, near Galtich, at the end of August, 1914, when he was appointed to the Command of the 48th Infantry Division and myself to the 4th (Iron) Rifle Brigade. Since that day, for four months, our troops went forward side by side as part of the 14th Corps, fighting incessant, glorious and heavy battles, defeating the enemy, crossing the Carpathians and invading Hungary. Owing to the wide extent of the front we did not often meet; nevertheless, we knew each other very well. I had already then a clear perception of Kornilov's main characteristics as a leader. He had an extraordinary capacity for training troops: out of a second-rate unit from the district of Kazan he made, in several weeks, an excellent fighting division. He was resolute and extremely pertinacious in conducting the most difficult and even apparently doomed operations. His personal prowess, which provoked boundless admiration and gave him great popularity among the troops, was admirable. Finally, he scrupulously observed military ethics with regard to units fighting by his side and to his comrades-in-arms. Many commanding officers and units lacked that quality. After Kornilov's astounding escape from Austrian captivity, into which he fell when heavily wounded, and covering Brussilov's retreat from the Carpathians, towards the beginning of the Revolution, he commanded the 25th Corps. All those who knew Kornilov even slightly felt that he was destined to play an important part in the Russian Revolution. On March 2nd Rodzianko telegraphed direct to Kornilov: "The Temporary Committee of the Duma requests you, for your country's sake, to accept the chief command in Petrograd and to arrive at the Capital at once. We have no doubt that you will not refuse the appointment, and will thereby render an inestimable service to the country." Such a revolutionary method of appointing an officer to a high command, without reference to G.H.Q., obviously produced a bad impression at the "Stavka." The telegram received at the "Stavka" is marked "Undelivered," but on the same day General Alexeiev, having requested the permission of the Emperor, who was then at Pskov, issued an order of the day (No. 334): "... I agree to General Kornilov being in temporary high command of the troops of the Petrograd Military District."

I have mentioned this insignificant episode in order to explain the somewhat abnormal relations between two prominent leaders, which were occasioned by repeated, petty, personal friction.

I talked to Kornilov at dinner in the War Minister's house. It was the only moment of rest he could snatch during the day. Kornilov, tired, morose and somewhat pessimistic, discussed at length the conditions of the Petrograd Garrison, and his intercourse with the Soviet. The hero-worship with which he had been surrounded in the army had faded in the unhealthy atmosphere of the Capital among the demoralised troops. They were holding meetings, deserting, indulging in petty commerce in shops and in the street, serving as hall-porters and as personal guards to private individuals, partaking in plundering and arbitrary searches, but were not serving. It was difficult for a fighting general to understand their psychology. He often succeeded by personal pluck, disregard of danger, and by a witty, picturesque word in holding the mob, for that was what military units were. There were, however, cases when the troops did not come out of barracks to meet their Commander-in-Chief, when he was hissed and the flag of St. George was torn from his motor-car (by the Finland Regiment of the Guards).

Kornilov's description of the political situation was the same as that given by Krymov: Powerlessness of the Government and the inevitability of a fierce cleansing of Petrograd. On one point they differed: Kornilov stubbornly clung to the hope that he would yet succeed in gaining authority over the majority of the Petrograd Garrison. As we know, that hope was never fulfilled.