THE MURDER OF STOLYPIN
WITHIN a fortnight of the mock monk's audience of the Tsar he found
himself installed in a fine suite of rooms in the Palace at
Tsarskoe-Selo, one apartment being assigned to myself as his secretary.
Rasputin's ascendancy over the Imperial couple became daily more marked.
I was the onlooker of a very curious and clever game. Spiritualistic
séances were held frequently, at which the Emperor and Empress assisted.
In Petrograd the monk also continued the weekly receptions of his
"disciples," chief among them being Madame Golovine and the Princess
Paley. The Empress fell more and more beneath the evil influence of the
Starets, for she felt convinced that his prayer had been answered by the
birth of an heir.
To one man--even though of the Germanophile party--the intrusion of
Rasputin into the Court circle caused great annoyance. That was Count
Fredericks.
Madame Vyrubova one day told me that the count had that afternoon, in her
presence, inquired of the Emperor:
"Who is this new Starets of whom everybody is talking?"
"Oh! merely a simple mujik whose prayers carry right to Heaven," was His
Majesty's answer. "He is endowed with most sublime faith."
The count then warned the Tsar of the displeasure which Rasputin's
presence at Court was creating on every hand, adding:
"There are rumours that he is a mere drunken libertine. Make inquiries
for yourself of his doings in Petrograd."
"Well, my dear Count," laughed the Emperor carelessly, "better one
Starets than ten hysterics."
This seemed to me to prove that Rasputin's presence often saved the
Emperor from the hysterical outbursts of his wife.
Indeed, only the previous day the monk put about a story in Petrograd to
account for the Empress's hysterical state. He started a rumour that Her
Majesty was, against the advice of the Court physicians, following a
system of German _Entfettungscur_, or cure for obesity, the result having
been a complete breakdown of the nervous system.
Thus, by slow degrees, the artful monk ingratiated himself with the
Imperial family, just as years ago, when a mere cabdriver, in his
pre-saintly days, he happened to ingratiate himself with Alexis, Bishop
of Kazan, who became greatly struck with him, and later pushed him
forward as a holy man, yet for his trouble afterwards found himself swept
away, and his successor appointed by Rasputin's own hand. The monk was
relentless, overbearing, suspicious of any persons who did him a favour,
and at the same time ready to lick the boots of Germany's War Lord.
The "Dark Forces" were now strenuously at work. Little did I enjoy the
quiet of my own rooms in Petrograd. My "saintly" master was ever active
holding conferences, often hourly, with Ministers of State, councillors,
and the "disciples" of his own secret cult.
Very soon I noted that his closest friend was Stolypin, a good-looking
man with beard and curled moustache, who was President of the Council of
Ministers.
At that period Stolypin and the Emperor were inseparable. His Majesty
gave him daily audiences, and sometimes, through Mademoiselle Zéneide
Kamensky, the Empress's chief confidante, he had audience of Her
Majesty.
I met Stolypin often. His Excellency was a bluff but elegant bureaucrat,
who had succeeded Count Witte, a man of refinement, belonging to a very
old boyar family. He was an excellent talker, and with his soft, engaging
manners he could, when he wished, exercise a personal charm that always
had a great effect upon his hearers. His Excellency's great virtue in the
Emperor's eyes was that he never wearied him, and that was much in his
favour; he always curtailed his business. Whatever he had to report to
the Emperor was done quickly, without unnecessary comment, and the
conference ended, they smoked together on terms of almost equality.
I beg the reader's pardon if I here digress for a moment. After Stolypin
we had a well-meaning statesman as Prime Minister in Kokovtsov, who
endeavoured to follow the same lines as his master. He was a talented and
eloquent man, whom I often met, and who at first impressed the Tsar by
his crystallised reports. But Emperor and Prime Minister had no personal
attraction towards each other, as they should have if an empire is to
progress. Nicholas never gave him his confidence.
Perhaps I may be permitted to reveal here a scene historic in the history
of the Empire, being present with my master Rasputin in the Tsar's
private cabinet. It was a very curious incident, and revealed much
concerning the attitude of Nicholas towards the nation.
Kokovtsov, who had allowed Akimoff to be present--the latter, I believe,
in eager anticipation of a triumph--read to the Emperor his new project
for enlarging the Government monopoly system for the sale of vodka. This
would have greatly increased the Government's exchequer, but would
inevitably have ruined the people.
In the room Rasputin sat in his black robe and his big jewelled cross
suspended by its chain, while I stood beside him.
The Emperor, with a cigarette in his mouth, sat in a big arm-chair at his
desk, tracing circles and squares upon a sheet of paper, his habit when
distracted. Now and then he scratched his head. He was attentive to the
report, still drawing his circles, but making no comment, except that his
lips relaxed in a faint smile.
Suddenly he turned to Rasputin and asked: "Well Father, what do you
understand in all this?"
Kokovtsov ceased reading his project, and stood in wonder. Not a single
item of the project had been criticised, no comment had been offered,
therefore His Excellency naturally believed that his efforts were
receiving approbation. Rasputin was silent.
Suddenly the Tsar rose from his chair with a sigh of weariness, and
slowly selected a fresh cigarette from the big golden box upon his
writing-table. Then he shook hands with Kokovtsov as a sign that the
audience was at an end, and said:
"Really, my dear Excellency, I do not agree with your project at all. It
is all utter rubbish, and will only lead the Empire into further
difficulties. Surely Russia has sufficient alcohol!"
I watched the scene with wide-open eyes.
Poor Kokovtsov, so well meaning, bowed in assent and crumpled up before
the Tsar of all the Russias. The blow was quite unexpected. When I left
the Emperor's presence with Rasputin, the latter said:
"Well, my dear Féodor. The day of Kokovtsov is ended. One may be thankful
for it, because it will mean less friction between the Emperor and the
Empress."
Three days later His Majesty dismissed his Prime Minister, but gave him
the title of Count. He had no son, therefore the distinction was a mere
empty one.
With this digression, for which I hope I may be pardoned, I will return
to Stolypin. The mystery of his assassination has always been carefully
hushed-up by the Secret Police, but I here intend to lift the veil, and,
at the risk of producing certain damning evidence, disclose the whole of
the amazing and dastardly plot.
Few people know of it. Rasputin knew it, I know it, the Empress knows it,
and a certain woman living in seclusion in London to-day knows it. But
to the world the truth which I here write will, I venture to believe,
come as a great surprise.
The cry "Land and Liberty" was being heard on every hand in the Empire.
Peter Arkadievitch Stolypin, son of an aide-de-camp general of Alexander
II., was in the zenith of his popularity. He had become a _vermentchik_,
the traditional appellation applied to the favourite of the Emperor, and
as such he loomed largely in the eyes of Europe. He had entered the
public service as a youth, and had later on become governor of the
province of Samara, where he had attracted the notice of Count Witte
because of the drastic way in which he had suppressed some serious riots
there. In due course he was called to Petrograd, where he was introduced
to the Emperor, and later on the mantle of Count Witte had fallen upon
him.
Though in high favour with the Emperor he was clever enough to court the
good graces of Rasputin, knowing full well what supreme influence he
wielded over the Imperial couple. For that reason I frequently had
conversation with him both at Court and at the Poltavskaya. He was a man
of complex nature. A lady-killer of the most elegant type, refined and
determined, yet lurking in the corners of his nature was a tyrannical
trait and a hardness of heart.
In Samara he had distinguished himself by various injustices to the
population, and hundreds of innocent persons had, because they had been
denounced by the _agents-provocateurs_ of the secret police, been sent to
prison or to Siberia by administrative order. At first there was a
rivalry between him and General Trepoff in the Tsar's good graces, but
Trepoff died, leaving Stolypin master of the situation.
Though Rasputin behaved graciously towards him and often dined at his
table, he was in secret his enemy. So cleverly did the monk form and
carry out his plot that to the last he never believed but that the holy
man, who prayed so fervently for his success in the guidance of Russia,
was his most devoted friend.
Many crimes have been committed in Russia beneath the shadow of the Black
Wings, but perhaps none more ingenious than the one under notice.
The first I knew of the deep conspiracy was in the spring of 1911, by the
visit one night to Rasputin's house in the Poltavskaya of a tall,
fair-haired man named Hardt, whom I knew as a frequent visitor to the
monk. He was a merchant in Petrograd and a man of considerable means,
but, as I afterwards discovered, was an agent of Potsdam specially sent
to Russia as the secret factotum of the Tsaritza. He was ever at her beck
and call, and was the instrument by which she exchanged confidential
correspondence with the Kaiser and other persons in Germany.
On that evening when Hardt called quite half-a-dozen of the
sister-disciples were taking tea with the saint and gossiping, for each
Thursday he would hold informal receptions, and with horrible blasphemy
bestow upon the society women who attended his accursed blessing. The
ladies there on that night were all of the most exclusive circle in
Petrograd.
On Hardt's arrival the reception was cut short after he had whispered
some words to the Starets, who made excuse that he had to leave to return
to the palace.
Indeed, he went to the telephone at the farther end of the room and held
a conversation with the Tsaritza's confidante, Mademoiselle Kamensky.
None knew, however, that that private telephone by which the charlatan so
impressed his visitors was merely a fake one, its wires not extending
farther than the end of the garden.
Grichka sometimes when alone rehearsed those conversations, until he
succeeded in producing a perfect series of answers which would strike the
hearer as a most intimate conversation concerning either Emperor or
Empress.
From the chatter upon the mock telephone the assembly concluded that his
presence was required at the palace immediately, therefore they rose and
retired, leaving the mysterious Hardt alone with us.
Instead of going to Tsarskoe-Selo we retired to the saint's little den,
where we opened a bottle of champagne, of which we all three drank.
"Well, my friend Hardt?" asked the monk, flinging himself carelessly into
his easy chair and unbuttoning his long black coat for comfort. "What has
happened? You can, as you know, speak before our faithful Féodor," he
added.
"I have waiting outside a young woman whom I want you to see," replied
the German agent.
"Does she wish to enter our circle?" inquired the monk, adding with his
usual avariciousness: "Has she money?"
"No--neither," was Hardt's reply. "She does not want to become one of
your disciples; indeed, the less you say on that matter the better!"
"Then why should I trouble to see her?"
"I will tell you all after you have chatted with her. May Féodor invite
her in? She is sitting in a droshky outside."
"If you wish," growled Rasputin. "But why all this mystery? I have much
to do. I am due at Countess Ignatieff's--and am already late."
"Remain patient, I beg of you, Father," urged the German suavely. "I am
acting upon instructions--from Number Seventy."
"From Number Seventy!" echoed the monk, instantly realising that Hardt,
an agent of the German Secret Service, was carrying out some
well-concealed and ingenious project. "Very well," he said. "I rely upon
you not to delay me longer than necessary. Féodor," he added, turning to
me with that lofty air which his low mujik mind sometimes conceived to be
superiority, "go and find this mysterious young person."
A few minutes later I conducted into the saint's presence a dark-haired,
extremely handsome young woman of about thirty, who spoke with
considerable refinement and whose arrival mystified me greatly.
Hardt introduced her to the holy man, saying:
"This is Mademoiselle Vera Baltz, of Stavropol, a friend of His
Excellency Peter Stolypin."
"Ah! Welcome, my dear mademoiselle," exclaimed the monk affably. "So you
are a friend of His Excellency--when he was Governor of Samara, I
suppose?"
"Yes. I have come here because I crave your assistance. Monsieur Hardt
knows all the circumstances, and will explain."
The saint turned to the fair-haired man seated opposite him, Mademoiselle
Baltz having been given an easy-chair close by Rasputin's table. It was a
writing-table, but the scoundrel never wrote. Sometimes he pretended to
do so, but the truth was that it was a long and painful procedure with
him. He preferred to scrawl his initials to any typewritten letter which
I prepared.
"The explanation is briefly this, Father," said Hardt in his businesslike
way. "Mademoiselle has been the dupe of His Excellency, who, while
Governor, often went to Stavropol, where he stayed at an hotel under
another name. Mademoiselle never knew his identity until a year ago, when
she saw his photograph in the papers as Prime Minister. She never knew
that he was married--though I have here a letter in which he proposes
marriage to her."
And he produced from his pocket a note, bearing the heading of the
Centralnaya Hotel at Samara, which Rasputin read through.
"Well?" asked the Starets, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke from his
bearded lips.
"Mademoiselle is anxious to meet His Excellency."
"Ah! I see," exclaimed the monk, whose mind at once turned to blackmail,
a course which he himself was actively pursuing. "Mademoiselle wishes for
money--eh?"
"No, Father," replied the young woman stoutly. "Not money--only justice!
Peter Stolypin misled me, as you see according to his letter. I am but
one of his many victims, and I desire to expose him."
"H'm!" grunted Rasputin, who, having ascertained that no monetary
consideration was forthcoming, was not particularly interested in the
affair. He never did anything without reward. Those who could pay him
well obtained through his influence at Court high office and big
emoluments. Within my own knowledge in at least twenty cases he was
already receiving heavy percentages upon the salaries, including those of
two bishops and three under-secretaries, who had been dug out from
nowhere and pitchforked into office by him.
By his influence with Nicholas the rascal ruled Russia with a relentless
recklessness unparalleled in all history.
"Mademoiselle has already had audience of Her Majesty, who has sent her
here to interview you," Hardt explained. "I am placing her case in the
hands of our friend Altschiller."
The latter was a well-known lawyer, who, by the way, was afterwards
proved to be a spy of Austria.
"What do you desire of me, my dear young lady?" asked Rasputin in the
paternal manner he so often assumed towards the fair sex who hung about
the hem of his ragged robe, and knelt so constantly before him for his
blessing.
"You, Father, are all-powerful in Russia," replied Vera Baltz. "Her
Majesty told me that you would help me to--to destroy Stolypin," she said
with a fierce expression in her black eyes.
Rasputin exchanged glances with the secret agent of Potsdam who, I knew,
did so much dirty work on the Empress's behalf.
"What Her Majesty desires, I am here to obey," was the monk's quiet
response. "I pray that no injustice be done," the blasphemer added,
piously crossing himself.
"Injustice!" cried the girl angrily. "He deceived me, and left me to
starve when he received his advancement and came here to Petrograd. He
became the Tsar's favourite because of his cruel and harsh treatment of
our poor people of Samara, and has climbed to office over the bodies of
those shot down in the streets at his orders. Injustice! There is
assuredly no injustice to drag the ghastly truth concerning him into the
light of day."
"Not at all! I quite agree," said Rasputin, rising and shaking her hand.
"You can tell your lawyer from me that you have my assistance, but in
strictest secrecy, of course. Not a soul must know of it, remember!" he
added, looking straight at her with that strange hypnotic glance of his,
a gaze beneath which she quivered visibly.
"I shall remain silent," she promised.
"If the truth leaks out that you have seen either Her Majesty or myself,
then I shall instantly become your enemy, and not your friend," the monk
declared.
"Only Monsieur Hardt knows," the girl said. "It was he who took me to
Peterhof."
"You may rely upon the silence of both my friends," Rasputin assured her,
and a moment later I conducted her downstairs and out into the street.
When I returned to where Rasputin was still seated with his visitor, the
latter was, I found, making explanation how he had, after considerable
difficulty, traced the woman Baltz at the Empress's orders and taken her
to the Palace, first, however, prompting her to seek revenge upon the
Prime Minister.
"I cannot understand it at all," Hardt added.
"I do. Cannot you see that Stolypin is violently anti-German and openly
disapproves of the Germanophile party at Court?"
"But he is closeted daily with the Emperor, I understand. And the Empress
grants him frequent audiences."
"Because she is endeavouring to ascertain the true extent of His
Excellency's knowledge of her own dealings with our friends in Berlin,"
was the monk's reply. "Alix pretends to be most gracious to him, yet she
is distinctly antagonistic, more from fear than anything else. To-day he
is a favourite at Court, to-morrow----"
And Grichka made a wide sweep with his dirty knotted hand without
concluding his sentence.
"Has Her Majesty spoken to you concerning her fears that Stolypin has
discovered something?" asked the man Hardt eagerly.
The monk grinned meaningly.
"Her Majesty is taking precautions," he replied evasively. "Possibly
Stolypin has discovered the reason you travelled to Berlin a month ago. I
have an idea that you were watched by the Okhrana."
"Do you really think so?" gasped the German in quick apprehension. "Why
do you suspect?"
"From something whispered to me a week ago."
"Then Stolypin may know that Alexandra Feodorovna is behind the
traitorous dealings of Colonel Miassoyedeff on the frontier--eh?"
Rasputin, his eyes fixed upon his visitor, slowly nodded in the
affirmative.
"That means ruin--perhaps imprisonment for me!" Hardt gasped, his face
pale and anxious.
"I might say the same thing," remarked the saint, stroking his long,
untrimmed beard. "But I do not. We are both strong enough to resist all
attacks. Any suspicion against Miassoyedeff must be removed. I will see
that the Emperor promotes him to-morrow. Our one stumbling-block is Peter
Stolypin."
"One that, I take it, must be removed?"
"Yes--at all costs. That is why the Empress has sought out this woman
Baltz, who, if my estimate of her sex is correct, is a wild firebrand."
"She certainly is viciously vindictive."
"One thing is certain, our friend Stolypin has no idea that he is seated
on the edge of a volcano," remarked the monk. "He lives extremely happily
with his wife and children in that beautiful villa over on the Islands of
the Apothecaries, and has no suspicion of the coming storm. I promised
his wife to go to her salon to-morrow night."
"And will you go?"
"Of course. There must be no suspicion. Are we not, all of us, his best
friends?" asked the monk, grinning evilly.
"I am returning to Berlin by way of Stockholm on Thursday," Hardt said,
for he gave as the reason for his frequent visits to Germany and
Scandinavia that he bought leather in those countries. "Have you anything
to report?"
"Yes. One or two things," replied the Starets, who ordered me to write at
his dictation as follows:
"MEMORANDUM.
"FROM GREGORY TO NUMBER SEVENTY.
"Have acted upon your instructions regarding the Kahovsky affair.
Some important correspondence was seized by the police at his
arrest, and for two days matters looked extremely unpromising. I
paid T. twenty thousand roubles to close his lips, and induced
the Emperor to release Kahovsky and restore his papers. I suggest
that he should be recalled from Russia and sent to London, where,
being unknown, he might be extremely useful to you.
"Madame Zlobine is at the Adlon Hotel in your city. She has
quarrelled with the General, and strict watch should be kept upon
her. She has been heard to express very decided views against Her
Majesty. It may be found that she is in communication with J. If
so, it is in the interests of Stolypin's anti-German campaign!
"Hardt will explain verbally the position of the latter, and the
discovery of the woman Baltz. Meanwhile His Excellency is
unsuspicious that we are aware of his hostile intentions towards
us.
"Please do me the favour to assure His Majesty the Emperor of my
continued efforts in the service of Alexandra Feodorovna, even
though matters are daily growing more complicated. Anna [Madame
Vyrubova], moreover, is more difficult to please.
"Both Stürmer and Protopopoff are under my protection, and I have
already contrived to advance them. Kokovtsov is growing in favour
and will be a force to be reckoned with in the immediate future.
Urge Miassoyedeff, from your side, to exercise the greatest
caution. There are whispers, but I have endeavoured to stifle
them by contriving his advancement through the Emperor, who
yesterday decorated him.
"The Imperial pair will shortly visit the Danish and Swedish
Courts, and probably go for a cruise in Norwegian waters, though
there is, as yet, no announcement.
"I am still working upon the project you set out when we met in
Helsingfors two months ago regarding the reduction and weakening
of the army. I have already initiated the matter through ladies
whose husbands are in the Ministry of War. It will mean the
expenditure of a considerable sum of your money, but I know it
will be a mere bagatelle if your object is accomplished.
"I have to acknowledge a payment of one hundred thousand roubles
into the Azof Bank from an unknown source. Please remember that
S. in Paris and J. in Rome are making big claims upon me, and
that next month I must receive a similar sum.
"Hardt has told me that matters are progressing well at Carlton
House Terrace, and also in Paris. Of that I am glad to hear. Let
our next meeting be at the Phoenix Hotel in Abo, where I am
unknown, and which you can reach without notice. At present I
dare not leave Russia, as Her Majesty will not hear of it.
"It would be as well to make the next payment through the
Aktiebank in Abo. They would not suspect.
"Do not fail to impress upon both Sukhomlinoff and Miassoyedeff
the necessity for the utmost caution. Till we meet."
When I had typed this at his dictation I handed it to him, and he managed
painfully to append his illiterate signature.
Then I placed the sheets in an envelope and gave them to Hardt to convey
in secret to the headquarters of the German Secret Service in the
Königgrätzerstrasse in Berlin.
"And, friend Hardt," Rasputin said, as the Kaiser's emissary placed the
letter carefully in his wallet, "please impress upon Number Seventy what
I have said about money. All this costs much. Tell him that sometimes
when inordinate demands are made upon me--as you know they are often
are--I have to use my own funds in order to satisfy them. Smith in London
receives unlimited funds through the Deutsche Bank, I know, so please
tell our friend from me that I expect similar treatment in future."
The Starets was one of the most far-seeing and mercenary scoundrels. He
had accounts in different names in half-a-dozen banks in Petrograd and
Moscow, into which he constantly made payments as the result of his
widespread campaign of espionage and the blackmailing of silly women who
fell beneath his uncanny spell.
When Hardt had left, the saint opened another bottle of champagne and
drank it all from a tumbler, afterwards consuming half a bottle of
brandy. I was busy with three days' accumulation of letters, and did not
notice it until, an hour later, I found him dead asleep on the floor of
the dining-room--a pretty spectacle if presented to the millions of our
patriotic Russians who believed in the Tsar as their "Father" and in the
divinity of the "holy man" who directed the Empire's affairs.
The saint filled me with increasing disgust, yet I confess I had become
fascinated by the widespread and desperate conspiracies which he either
engineered himself or of which he pulled the most important strings.
In the plot against Stolypin, though none dreamed of it, he had been the
most active agent. Stolypin, a purely honest and loyal Russian, who, on
taking office as Prime Minister, was actuated by a firm determination to
do his level best for the Empire, was an unwanted statesman. He was too
honest, and, therefore, dangerous to the Court camarilla set up and paid
by Potsdam.
As the days passed the monk frequently referred to him as a thorn in the
side of the Empress.
"The fellow must be got rid of!" he declared to me more than
once. "He suspects a lot, and he knows too much. He is dangerous to us,
Féodor--very dangerous!"
One night, when we were together in his room at Tsarskoe-Selo, after he
had been dining _en famille_ with the Imperial family, he remarked:
"Things are going well. I saw the lawyer Altschiller to-day. All is
prepared for the coup against Stolypin, who is still ignorant that Vera
Baltz is in Petrograd."
I knew Altschiller, who often called at the Poltavskaya. He was a close
friend of Monsieur Raeff, whom Rasputin, when all-powerful a little later
on, actually appointed as Procurator of the Holy Synod, having placed the
appointment upon the Emperor's desk to sign!
The law case was, however, delayed. Hardt was on one of his frequent
absences--in Germany, no doubt--and matters did not move so rapidly as to
satisfy the Empress. The whole plot was to keep the Prime Minister in the
dark until the moment when the skeleton of his past should be dragged
from its cupboard.
As announced by Rasputin, the Emperor and Empress had visited Denmark and
Norway on board the _Standart_, and were back again at Peterhof, when one
day Rasputin received his friend Boris Stürmer, the bureaucrat, at that
time struggling strenuously for advancement. In the monk's den Stürmer,
chatting about Stolypin and the vindictive woman who had come to
Petrograd to destroy him--for he was one of the paid servants of Potsdam,
and in consequence knew most of the secrets--said:
"Have you, Father, ever met a Jew named Bagrov?"
"Never to my knowledge. Why?"
"Because I know from my friend Venikoff, one of the assistant-directors
of Secret Police, that the man, a discharged _agent-provocateur_ and
incensed at the way he has been treated by Stolypin, has joined forces
with some mysterious young woman named Baltz. There is a whisper that
between them they are engineering a plot to assassinate the Prime
Minister!"
Rasputin's strange eyes met mine. Both of us knew more than this
struggling sycophant.
"Bagrov?" the saint repeated. "Who is he?"
"Oh! A fellow who was assistant to Azeff in some disgraceful matters in
Warsaw--an _agent-provocateur_ who lived afterwards for some time in
Paris and on the Riviera. He attributes his downfall to Stolypin, and
hence is most bitter against him. He has, I hear, fallen in love with the
woman Baltz, who hails from Samara."
"Well?" asked the saint.
"Well?--nothing," laughed the man with the goat-beard. "I simply tell you
what I know. There is a plot--that is all! And as far as I can discern
the swifter Stolypin leaves the Court, the easier it will be for Her
Majesty and ourselves--eh? While Stolypin is daily with the Emperor there
is hourly danger for us."
"In that I certainly agree," declared Rasputin. "We must be
watchful--very watchful."
We remained alert--all of us. That same night Rasputin informed the
Empress of the secret plot of the black-haired Vera and her lover
Bagrov.
The Court left for the Crimea next day, and Rasputin travelled with the
Imperial family. Stolypin, in ignorance of what was in progress, was of
the party, I being left in Petrograd to follow three days later.
On arrival at Kiev, where the Emperor had arranged to review the troops,
a gala performance was held in the theatre that night. Opposite the
Imperial box sat Stolypin, with two other high officials of the Court,
when, during the entr'acte, a man dashed in, and in full view of the
Emperor and Empress fired a revolver at the Prime Minister.
The confusion this caused was terrible. Her Majesty fainted and was
dragged out of the box by Mademoiselle Kamensky, while the Tsar swiftly
jumped to his feet and regarded the scene calmly.
"I'm done!" gasped the patriotic and honest Stolypin, as those present
seized the assassin, who was none other than the ex-_agent-provocateur_
Bagrov.
Six hours later the Prime Minister breathed his last, a victim of the
Empress and her Potsdam camarilla, while Vera Baltz fled to Switzerland.
Rasputin afterwards told me that he urged the Court to leave Kiev at
once, adding:
"It was far best for Alix and Nicholas to pretend horror of the tragedy
than to offer condolences."
And so ended another chapter of Russia's underground history.