Part 3 (1/2)

After the murder of its ”Friend” the monarchy survived in all ten weeks. But this short s.p.a.ce of time was still its own. Rasputin was no longer, but his shadow continued to rule. Contrary to all the expectations of the conspirators, the royal pair began after the murder to promote with special determination the most scorned members of the Rasputin clique. In revenge for Rasputin, a notorious scoundrel was named Minister of Justice. A number of grand dukes were banished from the capital. It was rumoured that Protopopov took up spiritualism, calling up the ghost of Rasputin. The noose of hopelessness was drawing tighter.

The murder of Rasputin played a colossal role, but a very different one from that upon which its perpetrators and inspirers had counted. It did not weaken the crisis, but sharpened it. People talked of the murder everywhere: in the palaces, in the staffs, at the factories, and in the peasant's huts. The inference drew itself: even the grand dukes have no other recourse against the leprous camarilla except poison and the revolver. The poet Blok wrote of the murder of Rasputin: ”The bullet which killed him reached the very heart of the rul-ing dynasty.” * Robespierre once reminded the Legislative a.s.sembly that the opposition of the n.o.bility, by weakening the monarchy, had roused the bourgeoisie, and after them the popular ma.s.ses. Robespierre gave warning at the same time that in the rest of Europe the revolution could not develop so swiftly as in France, for the privileged cla.s.ses of other countries, taught by the experience of the French n.o.bility, would not take the revolutionary initiative. In giving this admirable a.n.a.lysis, Robespierre was mistaken only in his a.s.sump-tion that with its oppositional recklessness the French n.o.bility had given a lesson once for all to other countries. Russia proved again, both in 1905 and yet more in 1917, that a revolution directed against an autocratic and half-feudal rgime, and consequently against a n.o.bility, meets in its .rst step an unsystematic and inconsistent but nevertheless very real co-operation not only from the rank and .le n.o.bility, but also from its most privileged upper circles, including here even members of the dynasty. This remarkable historic phe-nomenon may seem to contradict the cla.s.s theory of society, but in reality it contradicts only its vulgar interpretation.

A revolution breaks out when all the antagonisms of a society have reached their highest tensions. But this makes the situation unbearable even for the cla.s.ses of the old society that is, those who are doomed to break up. Although I do not want to give a biological a.n.a.logy more weight than it deserves, it is worth remarking that the natural act of birth becomes at a certain moment equally unavoidable both for the maternal organism and for the offspring. The opposition put up by the privileged cla.s.ses expresses the incompatibility of their traditional social position with the demands of the further existence of society. Everything seems to slip out of the hands of the ruling bureaucracy. The aristocracy .nding itself in the focus of a general hostility lays the blame upon the bureaucracy, the latter blames the aristocracy, and then together, or separately, they direct their discontent against the monarchical summit of their power.

Prince Sherbatov, summoned into the ministry for a time from his service in the heredi-tary inst.i.tutions of the n.o.bility, said: ”Both Samarin and I are former heads of the n.o.bility in our provinces. Up till now n.o.body has ever considered us as Lefts and we do not consider ourselves so. But we can neither of us understand a situation in a state where the monarch and his government .nd themselves in radical disagreement with all reasonable (we are not talking here of revolutionary intrigue) society with the n.o.bility, the merchants, the cities, the zemstvos, and even the army. If those above do not want to listen to our opinion, it is our duty to withdraw.”

The n.o.bility sees the cause of all its misfortunes in the fact that the monarchy is blind or has lost its reason. The privileged caste cannot believe that no policy whatever is possible which would reconcile the old society with the new. In other words, the n.o.bility cannot accept its own doom and converts its death-weariness into opposition against the most sacred power of the old rgime, that is, the monarchy. The sharpness and irresponsibility of the aristocratic opposition is explained by history's having made spoiled children of the upper circles of the n.o.bility, and by the unbearableness to them of their own fears in face of revolution. The unsystematic and inconsistent character of the n.o.ble discontent is explained by the fact that it is the opposition of a cla.s.s which has no future. But as a lamp before it goes out .ares up with a bright although smoky light, so the n.o.bility before disappearing gives out an oppositional .ash, which performs a mighty service for its mortal enemy. Such is the dialectic of this process, which is not only consistent with the cla.s.s theory of society, but can only by this theory be explained.

CHAPTER 6.

THE DEATH AGONY OF THE MONARCHY.

The dynasty fell by shaking, like rotten fruit, before the revolution even had time to ap-proach its .rst problems. Our portrayal of the old ruling cla.s.s would remain incomplete if we did not try to show how the monarchy met the hour of its fall.

The czar was at headquarters at Moghilev, having gone there not because he was needed, but in .ight from the Petrograd disorders. The court chronicler, General Dubensky, with the czar at headquarters, noted in his diary: ”A quiet life begins here. Everything will remain as before. Nothing will come of his (the czar's) presence. Only accidental external causes will change anything . . .” On February 24, the czarina wrote Nicholas at headquarters, in English as always: ”I hope that Duma man Kedrinsky (she means Kerensky) will be hung for his horrible speeches-it is necessary (war time law) and it will be an example. All are thirsting and beseeching that you show your .rmness.” On February 25, a telegram came from the Minister of War that strikes were occurring in the capital, disorders beginning among the workers, but measures had been taken and there was nothing serious. In a word: ”It isn't the .rst time, and won't be the last'

The czarina, who had always taught the czar not to yield, here too tried to remain .rm. On the 26th, with an obvious desire to hold up the shaky courage of Nicholas, she telegraphs him: ”It is calm in the city.” But in her evening telegram she has to confess: ”Things are not going at all well in the city.” In a letter she says: ”You must say to the workers that they must not declare strikes, if they do, they will be sent to the front as a punishment. There is no need at all of shooting. Only order is needed, and not to let them cross the bridges.” Yes, only a little thing is needed, only order! But the chief thing is not to admit the workers into the city-let them choke in the raging impotence of their suburbs.

On the morning of the 27th, General Ivanov moves from the front with the Battalion of St. George, entrusted with dictatorial powers-which he is to make public, however, only upon occupying Tsarskoe Selo. ”It would be hard to imagine a more unsuitable person.” General Denikin will recall later, himself having taken a turn at military dictators.h.i.+p, ” a .abby old man, meagrely grasping the political situation, possessing neither strength, nor energy, nor will, nor austerity.” The choice fell upon Ivanov through memories of the .rst revolution. Eleven years before that he had subdued Kronstadt. But those years had left their traces; the subduers had grown .abby, the subdued, strong. The northern and western fronts were ordered to get ready troops for the march on Petrograd; evidently everybody thought there was plenty of time ahead. Ivanov himself a.s.sumed that the affair would be ended soon and successfully; he even remembered to send out an adjutant to buy provisions in Moghilev for his friends in Petrograd.

On the morning of February 27, Rodzianko sent the czar a new telegram, which ended with the words: ”The last hour has come when the fate of the fatherland and the dynasty is being decided.” The czar said to his Minister of the Court, Frederiks: ”Again that fat-bellied Rodzianko has written me a lot of nonsense, which I won't even bother to answer.” But no. It was not nonsense. He will have to answer.

About noon of the 27th, headquarters received a report from Khabalov of the mutiny of the Pavlovsky, Volynsky, Litovsky and Preobrazhensky regiments, and the necessity of sending reliable troops from the front. An hour later from the War Ministry came a most rea.s.suring telegram: ”The disorders which began this morning in certain military units are being .rmly and energetically put down by companies and battalions loyal to their duty . . . I am .rmly convinced of an early restoration of tranquillity.” However, a little after seven in the evening, the same minister, Belyaev, is reporting that ”We are not succeeding in putting down the military rebellion with the few detachments that remain loyal to their duty,” and requesting a speedy dispatch of really reliable troops-and that too in suf.cient numbers ”for simultaneous activity in different parts of the city.”

The Council of Ministers deemed this a suitable day to remove from their midst the presumed cause of all misfortunes-the half-crazy Minister of the Interior Protopopov. At the same time General Khabalov issued an edict-prepared in secrecy from the government-declaring Petrograd, on His Majesty's orders, under martial law. So here too was an attempt to mix hot with cold-hardly intentional, however, and anyway of no use. They did not even succeed in pasting up the declaration of martial law through the city: the burgomaster, Balka, could .nd neither paste nor brushes. Nothing would stick together for those func-tionaries any longer; they already belonged to the kingdom of shades.

The princ.i.p.al shade of the last czarist ministry was the seventy-year old Prince Golytsin, who had formerly conducted some sort of eleemosynary inst.i.tutions of the czarina, and had been advanced by her to the post of head of the government in a period of war and revolution. When friends asked this ”good-natured Russian squire, this old weakling ”as the liberal Baron Nolde described him-why he accepted such a troublesome position, Golytsin answered: ”So as to have one more pleasant recollection.” This aim, at any rate, he did not achieve. How the last czarist government felt in those hours is attested by Rodzianko in the following tale: With the .rst news of the movement of a crowd toward the Mariinsky Palace, where the Ministry was in session, all the lights in the building were immediately put out. (The government wanted only one thing-that the revolution should not notice it.) The rumour, however, proved false; the attack did not take place; and when the lights were turned on, one of the members of the czarist government was found ”to his own surprise” under the table. What kind of recollections he was acc.u.mulating there has not been established.

But Rodzianko's own feelings apparently were not at their highest point. After a long but vain hunt for the government by telephone, the President of the Duma tries again to ring up Prince Golytsin. The latter answers him: ”I beg you not to come to me with anything further, I have resigned.” Hearing this news, Rodzianko, according to his loyal secretary, sank heavily in an armchair and covered his face with both hands.

My ”G.o.d, how horrible! . . . Without a government... Anarchy . . . Blood . . .” and softly wept. At the expiring of the senile ghost of the czarist power Rodzianko felt unhappy, desolate, orphaned. How far he was at that moment from the thought that to-morrow he would have to ” head” a revolution!

The telephone answer of Golytsin is explained by the fact that on the evening of the 27th the Council of Ministers had de.nitely acknowledged itself incapable of handling the situation, and proposed to the czar to place at the head of the government a man enjoying general con.dence. The czar answered Golytsin: ”In regard to changes in the personal staff in the present circ.u.mstances, I consider that inadmissible. Nicholas.” Just what cir-c.u.mstances was he waiting for? At the same time the czar demanded that they adopt ”the most decisive measures” for putting down the rebellion. That was easier said than done.

On the next day, the 28th, even the untamable czarina at last loses heart. ”Concessions are necessary,” she telegraphs Nicholas. ”The strikes continue; many troops have gone over to the side of the revolution. Alex.”

It required an insurrection of the whole guard, the entire garrison, to compel this Hessian zealot of autocracy to agree that concessions are necessary.” Now the czar also begins to suspect that the ” fat-bellied Rodzianko” had not telegraphed non-sense. Nicholas decides to join his family. It is possible that he is a little gently pushed from behind by the generals of the staff, too, who are not feeling quite comfortable.

The czar's train travelled at .rst without mishap. Local chiefs and governors came out as usual to meet him. Far from the revolutionary whirlpool, in his accustomed royal car, surrounded by the usual suite, the czar apparently again lost a sense of the close coming crisis. At three o'clock on the 28th, when the events had already settled his fate, he sent a telegram to the czarina from Vyazma: ”Wonderful weather. Hope you are well and calm. Many troops sent from the front. With tender love. Niki.” Instead of the concessions, upon which even he czarina is insisting, the tenderly loving czar is sending troops from the front. But in spite of that ”wonderful weather,” in just a few hours the czar will stand face to face with the revolutionary storm. His train went as far as the Visher station. The railroad workers would not let it go farther: ”The bridge is damaged.” Most likely this pretext was invented by the courtiers themselves in order to soften the situation. Nicholas tried to make his way, or they tried to get him through, by way of Bologoe on the Nikolaevsk railroad; but here too the workers would not let the train pa.s.s. This was far more palpable than all the Petrograd telegrams. The czar had broken away from headquarters, and could not make his way to the capital. With its simple railroad ”p.a.w.ns” the revolution had cried ”check” to the king!

The court historian Dubensky, who accompanied the czar in his train, writes in his diary: ” Everybody realises that this midnight turn at Visher is a historical night . . . To me it is perfectly clear that the question of a const.i.tution is settled; it will surely be introduced . . . Everybody is saying that it is only necessary to strike a bargain with them, with the members of the Provisional Government.” Facing a lowered semaph.o.r.e, behind which mortal danger is thickening, Count Frederiks, Prince Dolgoruky, Count Leuchtenberg, all of them, all those high lords, are now for a const.i.tution. They no longer think of struggling. It is only necessary to strike a bargain, that is, try to fool them again as in 1905.

While the train was wandering and .nding no road, the czarina was sending the czar telegram after telegram, appealing to him to return as soon as possible. But her telegrams came back to her from the of.ce with the inscription in blue pencil: ”Whereabouts of the addressee unknown.” The telegraph clerks were unable to locate the Russian czar.

The regiments marched with music and banners to the Tauride Palace. A company of the Guards marched under the command of Cyril Vladimirovich, who had quite suddenly, according to Countess Kleinmichel, developed a revolutionary streak. The sentries disap-peared. The intimates were abandoning the palace. ”Everybody was saving himself who could,” relates Vyrubova. Bands of revolutionary soldiers wandered about the palace and with eager curiosity looked over everything. Before they had decided up above what should be done, the lower ranks were converting the palace of the czar into a museum.

The czar-his location unknown-turns back to Pskov, to the headquarters of the northern front, commanded by the old General Ruszky. In the czar's suite one suggestion follows an-other. The czar procrastinates. He is still reckoning in days and weeks, while the revolution is keeping its count in minutes.

The poet Blok characterised the czar during the last months of the monarchy as follows: ”Stubborn, but without will; nervous, but insensitive to everything; distrustful of people, taut and cautious in speech, he was no longer master of himself. He had ceased to un-derstand the situation, and did not take one clearly conscious step, but gave himself over completely into the hands of those whom he himself had placed in power.” And how much these traits of tautness and lack of will, cautiousness and distrust, were to increase during the last days of February and .rst days of March!

Nicholas .nally decided to send-and nevertheless evidently did not send-a telegram to the hated Rodzianko stating that for the salvation of the fatherland he appointed him to form a new ministry, reserving, however, the ministries of foreign affairs, war and marine for himself. The czar still hoped to bargain with ”them” : the ”many troops,” after all, were on their way to Petrograd.

General Ivanov actually arrived without hindrance at Tsarskoe Selo: evidently the rail-road workers did not care to come in con.ict with the Battalion of St. George. The general confessed later that he had three or four times found it necessary on the march to use fa-therly in.uence with the lower ranks, who were impudent to him: he made them get down on their knees. Immediately upon the arrival of the ”dictator” in Tsarskoe Selo, the local authorities informed him that an encounter between the Battalion of St. George and the troops would mean danger to the czar's family. They were simply afraid for themselves, and advised the dictator to go back without detraining.

General Ivanov telegraphed to the other ”dictator,” Khabalov, in Petrograd ten questions, to which he received succinct answers: We will quote them in full, for they deserve it: Ivanov's questions': Khabalov's replies: 1. How many troops are in the order and how many are misbehaving? 1. I have at my disposal in the Admiralty building four corn companies of the Guard, .ve squadrons of cavalry and Cossacks, and two batteries the rest of the troops have gone over to the revolutionists, or by agreement with them are remaining neutral. Soldiers are wandering through the towns singly or in bands disarming of.cers.

2. Which railroad stations are guarded? 2. All the stations are in the hands of the revolutionists and strictly guarded by them.

3. In what parts of the city is order preserved? 3. The whole city is in the hands of the revolutionists. The telephone is not working, there is no communication between different parts of the city.

4. What authorities are governing the different parts of the city? 4. I cannot answer this question?

5. Are all the ministries functioning properly? 5. The ministers have been arrested by the revolutionists.

6. What police forces are at your disposal at the present moment? 6. None whatever.

7. What technical and supply inst.i.tutions of the War Department are now in your control? 7. I have none.

8. What quant.i.ty of provisions at is at your disposal? 8. There are no provisions my disposal. In the city on February 5 there were 5,600,000 pounds of .our in store.

9. Have many weapons, artillery and military stores fallen . into the hands of the mutineers? 9. All the artillery establishments are in the hands of the revolutionists.

10. What military forces and the staffs are in your control? 10. The chief of the Staff of District is in my personal control. With the other district administrations I have no connections.

Having received this unequivocal illumination as to the situation, General Ivanov ”agreed” to turn back his echelon without detraining to the station ”Dno.” [1] . ”Thus,” concludes one of the chief personages of the staff, General Lukomsky, ”nothing came of the expedi-tion of General Ivanov with dictatorial powers but a public disgrace.”

That disgrace, incidentally, was a very quiet one, sinking unnoticed in the billowing events. The dictator, we may suppose, delivered the provisions to his friends in Petro-grad, and had a long chat with the czarina. She referred to her self-sacri.cing work in the hospitals, and complained of the ingrat.i.tude of the army and the people.

During this time news was arriving at Pskov by way of Moghilev, blacker and blacker. His Majesty's own bodyguard, in which every soldier was known by name and coddled by the royal family, turned up at the State Duma asking permission to arrest those of.cers who had refused to take part in the insurrection. Vice-Admiral Kurovsky reported that he found it impossible to take any measures to put down the insurrection at Kronstadt, since he could not vouch for the loyalty of a single detachment. Admiral Nepenin telegraphed that the Baltic Fleet had recognised the Provisional Committee of the State Duma. The Moscow commander-in-chief, Mrozovsky, telegraphed: ”A majority of the troops have gone over with artillery to the revolutionists. The whole town is therefore in their hands. The burgomaster and his aide have left the city hall.” Have left means that they .ed.

All this was communicated to the czar on the evening of March 1. Deep into the night they coaxed and argued about a responsible ministry. Finally, at two o'clock in the morning the czar gave his consent, and those around him drew a sigh of relief. Since they took it for granted that this would settle the problem of the revolution, an order was issued at the same time that the troops which had been sent to Petrograd to put down the insurrection should return to the front. Ruszky hurried at dawn to convey the good news to Rodzianko. But the czar's clock was way behind. Rodzianko in the Tauride Palace, already buried under a pile of democrats, socialists, soldiers, workers' deputies, replied to Ruszky: ”Your proposal is not enough; it is now a question of the dynasty itself. . . . Everywhere the troops are taking the side of the Duma, and the people are demanding an abdication in favour of the Heir with Mikhail Alexandrovich as regent.” Of course. the troops never thought of demanding either the Heir or Mikhail Alexandrovich. Rodzianko merely attributed to the troops and the people that slogan upon which the Duma was still hoping to stop the revolution. But in either case the czar's concession had come too late: ”The anarchy has reached such pro-portions that I (Rodzianko) was this night compelled to appoint a Provisional Government. Unfortunately, the edict has come too late. . . .” These majestic words bear witness that the President of the Duma had succeeded in drying the tears shed over Golytsin. The czar read the conversation between Rodzianko and Ruszky, and hesitated, read it over again, and decided to wait. But now the military chiefs had begun to sound the alarm: the matter concerned them too a little !

General Alexeiev carried out during the hours of that night a sort of plebiscite among the commanders-in-chief at the fronts. It is a good thing present-day revolutions are ac-complished with the help of the telegraph, so that the very .rst impulses and reactions of those in power are preserved to history on the tape. The conversations of the czarist .eld-marshals on the night of March 1-2 are an incomparable human doc.u.ment. Should the czar abdicate or not? The commander-in-chief of the western front, General Evert, consented to give his opinion only after Generals Ruszky and Brussilov had expressed themselves. The commander-in-chief of the Roumanian front, General Sakharov, demanded that be-fore he express himself the conclusions of all the other commanders-in-chief should be communicated to him. After long delays this valiant chieftain announced that his warm love for the monarch would not permit his soul to reconcile itself with an acceptance of the ”base suggestion”; nevertheless, ”with sobs” he advised the czar to abdicate in order to avoid still viler pretensions.” Adjutant-General Evert quite reasonably explained the ne-cessity for capitulation: ”I am taking all measures to prevent information as to the present situation in the capital from penetrating the army, in order to protect it against indubitable disturbances. No means exist for putting down the revolution in the capitals.” Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolajevich on the Caucasian front beseeched the czar on bended knee to adopt the ”supermeasure” and renounce the throne. A similar prayer came from Generals Alex-eiev and Brussilov and Admiral Nepenin. Ruszky spoke orally to the same effect. The generals respectfully presented seven revolver barrels to the temple of the adored monarch. Fearing to let slip the moment for reconciliation with the new power, and no less fearing their own troops, these military chieftains, accustomed as they were to surrendering posi-tions, gave the czar and the High Commander-in-Chief a quite unanimous counsel: Retire without .ghting. This was no longer distant Petrograd against which, as it seemed, one might send troops ; this was the front from which the troops had to be borrowed.

Having listened to this suggestively circ.u.mstanced report, the czar decided to abdicate the throne which he no longer possessed. A telegram to Rodzianko suitable to the occa-sion was drawn up: ”There is no sacri.ce that I would not make in the name of the real welfare and salvation of my native mother Russia. Thus I am ready to abdicate the throne in favour of my son, and in order that he may remain with me until he is of age, under the regency of my brother, Mikhail Alexandrovich. Nicholas.” This telegram too, how-ever, was not despatched, for news came from the capital of the departure for Pskov of the deputies Guchkov and Shulgin. This offered a new pretext to postpone the decision. The czar ordered the telegram returned to him. He obviously dreaded to sell too cheap, and still hoped for comforting news-or more accurately, hoped for a miracle. Nicholas re-ceived the two deputies at twelve o'clock midnight March 2-8. The miracle did not come, and it was impossible to evade longer. The czar unexpectedly announced that he could not part with his son-what vague hopes were then wandering in his head?-and signed an abdication in favour of his brother. At the same time edicts to the Senate were signed, nam-ing Prince Lvov President of the Council of Ministers, and Nikolai Nikolaievich Supreme Commander-in-Chief. The family suspicions of the czarina seemed to have been justi.ed: the hated ”Nikolasha” came back to power along with the conspirators. Guchkov appar-ently seriously believed that the revolution would accept the Most August War Chief. The latter also accepted his appointment in good faith. He even tried for a few days to give some kind of orders and make appeals for the ful.lment of patriotic duty. However the revolution painlessly removed him.

In order to preserve the appearance of a free act, the abdication was dated three o'clock in the afternoon, on the pretence that the original decision of the czar to abdicate had taken place at that hour. But as a matter of fact that afternoon's ”decision,” which gave the sceptre to his son and not to his brother, had been taken back in antic.i.p.ation of a more favourable turn of the wheel. Of that, however, n.o.body spoke out loud. The czar made a last effort to save his face before the hated deputies, who upon their part permitted this falsi.cation of a historic act-this deceiving of the people. The monarchy retired from the scene preserving its usual style; and its successors also remained true to themselves. They probably even regarded their connivance as the magnanimity of a conqueror to the conquered.