Counter-Revolution
Next morning, Sunday the 11th, the Cossacks entered Tsarskoye Selo,
Kerensky (See App. VIII, Sect. 1) himself riding a white horse and all
the church-bells clamouring. From the top of a little hill outside the
town could be seen the golden spires and many-coloured cupolas, the
sprawling grey immensity of the capital spread along the dreary plain,
and beyond, the steely Gulf of Finland.
There was no battle. But Kerensky made a fatal blunder. At seven in the
morning he sent word to the Second Tsarskoye Selo Rifles to lay down
their arms. The soldiers replied that they would remain neutral, but
would not disarm. Kerensky gave them ten minutes in which to obey. This
angered the soldiers; for eight months they had been governing
themselves by committee, and this smacked of the old régime…. A few
minutes later Cossack artillery opened fire on the barracks, killing
eight men. From that moment there were no more “neutral” soldiers in
Tsarskoye….
Petrograd woke to bursts of rifle-fire, and the tramping thunder of men
marching. Under the high dark sky a cold wind smelt of snow. At dawn
the Military Hotel and the Telegraph Agency had been taken by large
forces of _yunkers,_ and bloodily recaptured. The Telephone Station was
besieged by sailors, who lay behind barricades of barrels, boxes and
tin sheets in the middle of the Morskaya, or sheltered themselves at
the corner of the Gorokhovaya and of St. Isaac’s Square, shooting at
anything that moved. Occasionally an automobile passed in and out,
flying the Red Cross flag. The sailors let it pass….
Albert Rhys Williams was in the Telephone Exchange. He went out with
the Red Cross automobile, which was ostensibly full of wounded. After
circulating about the city, the car went by devious ways to the
Mikhailovsky _yunker_ school, headquarters of the counter-revolution. A
French officer, in the court-yard, seemed to be in command…. By this
means ammunition and supplies were conveyed to the Telephone Exchange.
Scores of these pretended ambulances acted as couriers and ammunition
trains for the _yunkers._
Five or six armoured cars, belonging to the disbanded British Armoured
Car Division, were in their hands. As Louise Bryant was going along St.
Isaac’s Square one came rolling up from the Admiralty, on its way to
the Telephone Exchange. At the corner of the Gogolia, right in front of
her, the engine stalled. Some sailors ambushed behind wood-piles began
shooting. The machine-gun in the turret of the thing slewed around and
spat a hail of bullets indiscriminately into the wood-piles and the
crowd. In the archway where Miss Bryant stood seven people were shot
dead, among them two little boys. Suddenly, with a shout, the sailors
leaped up and rushed into the flaming open; closing around the monster,
they thrust their bayonets into the loop-holes, again and again,
yelling… The chauffeur pretended to be wounded, and they let him go
free—to run to the Duma and swell the tale of Bolshevik
atrocities….Among the dead was a British Officer….
Later the newspapers told of another French officer, captured in a
_yunker_ armoured car and sent to Peter-Paul. The French Embassy
promptly denied this, but one of the City Councillors told me that he
himself had procured the officer’s release from prison….
Whatever the official attitude of the Allied Embassies, individual
French and British officers were active these days, even to the extent
of giving advice at executive sessions of the Committee for Salvation.
All day long in every quarter of the city there were skirmishes between
_yunkers_ and Red Guards, battles between armoured cars…. Volleys,
single shots and the shrill chatter of machine-guns could be heard, far
and near. The iron shutters of the shops were drawn, but business still
went on. Even the moving-picture shows, all outside lights dark, played
to crowded houses. The street-cars ran. The telephones were all
working; when you called Central, shooting could be plainly heard over
the wire…. Smolny was cut off, but the Duma and the Committee for
Salvation were in constant communication with all the _yunker_ schools
and with Kerensky at Tsarskoye.
At seven in the morning the Vladimir _yunker_ school was visited by a
patrol of soldiers, sailors and Red Guards, who gave the _yunkers_
twenty minutes to lay down their arms. The ultimatum was rejected. An
hour later the _yunkers_ got ready to march, but were driven back by a
violent fusillade from the corner of the Grebetskaya and the Bolshoy
Prospekt. Soviet troops surrounded the building and opened fire, two
armoured cars cruising back and forth with machine guns raking it. The
_yunkers_ telephoned for help. The Cossacks replied that they dare not
come, because a large body of sailors with two cannon commanded their
barracks. The Pavlovsk school was surrounded. Most of the Mikhailov
_yunkers_ were fighting in the streets….
At half-past eleven three field-pieces arrived. Another demand to
surrender was met by the _yunkers_ shooting down two of the Soviet
delegates under the white flag. Now began a real bombardment. Great
holes were torn in the walls of the school. The _yunkers_ defended
themselves desperately; shouting waves of Red Guards, assaulting,
crumpled under the withering blast…. Kerensky telephoned from Tsarskoye
to refuse all parley with the Military Revolutionary Committee.
Frenzied by defeat and their heaps of dead, the Soviet troops opened a
tornado of steel and flame against the battered building. Their own
officers could not stop the terrible bombardment. A Commissar from
Smolny named Kirilov tried to halt it; he was threatened with lynching.
The Red Guards’ blood was up.
At half-past two the _yunkers_ hoisted a white flag; they would
surrender if they were guaranteed protection. This was promised. With a
rush and a shout thousands of soldiers and Red Guards poured through
windows, doors and holes in the wall. Before it could be stopped five
_yunkers_ were beaten and stabbed to death. The rest, about two
hundred, were taken to Peter-Paul under escort, in small groups so as
to avoid notice. On the way a mob set upon one party, killing eight
more _yunkers_…. More than a hundred Red Guards and soldiers had
fallen….
Two hours later the Duma got a telephone message that the victors were
marching toward the _Injinierny Zamok_—the Engineers’ school. A dozen
members immediately set out to distribute among them armfuls of the
latest proclamation of the Committee for Salvation. Several did not
come back…. All the other schools surrendered without resistance, and
the _yunkers_ were sent unharmed to Peter-Paul and Cronstadt….
The Telephone Exchange held out until afternoon, when a Bolshevik
armoured car appeared, and the sailors stormed the place. Shrieking,
the frightened telephone girls ran to and fro; the _yunkers_ tore from
their uniforms all distinguishing marks, and one offered Williams
_anything_ for the loan of his overcoat, as a disguise…. “They will
massacre us! They will massacre us!” they cried, for many of them had
given their word at the Winter Palace not to take up arms against the
People. Williams offered to mediate if Antonov were released. This was
immediately done; Antonov and Williams made speeches to the victorious
sailors, inflamed by their many dead—and once more the _yunkers_ went
free…. All but a few, who in their panic tried to flee over the roofs,
or to hide in the attic, and were found and hurled into the street.
Tired, bloody, triumphant, the sailors and workers swarmed into the
switchboard room, and finding so many pretty girls, fell back in an
embarrassed way and fumbled with awkward feet. Not a girl was injured,
not one insulted. Frightened, they huddled in the corners, and then,
finding themselves safe, gave vent to their spite. “Ugh! The dirty,
ignorant people! The fools!”… The sailors and Red Guards were
embarrassed. “Brutes! Pigs!” shrilled the girls, indignantly putting on
their coats and hats. Romantic had been their experience passing up
cartridges and dressing the wounds of their dashing young defenders,
the _yunkers,_ many of them members of noble families, fighting to
restore their beloved Tsar! These were just common workmen, peasants,
“Dark People.”…
The Commissar of the Military Revolutionary Committee, little Vishniak,
tried to persuade the girls to remain. He was effusively polite. “You
have been badly treated,” he said. “The telephone system is controlled
by the Municipal Duma. You are paid sixty rubles a month, and have to
work ten hours and more…. From now on all that will be changed. The
Government intends to put the telephones under control of the Ministry
of Posts and Telegraphs. Your wages will be immediately raised to one
hundred and fifty rubles, and your working-hours reduced. As members of
the working-class you should be happy—”
Members of the _working-class_ indeed! Did he mean to infer that there
was anything in common between these—these animals—and _us?_ Remain?
Not if they offered a thousand rubles!… Haughty and spiteful the girls
left the place….
The employees of the building, the line-men and labourers—they stayed.
But the switch-boards must be operated—the telephone was vital…. Only
half a dozen trained operators were available. Volunteers were called
for; a hundred responded, sailors, soldiers, workers. The six girls
scurried backward and forward, instructing, helping, scolding…. So,
crippled, halting, but _going,_ the wires slowly began to hum. The
first thing was to connect Smolny with the barracks and the factories;
the second, to cut off the Duma and the _yunker_ schools…. Late in the
afternoon word of it spread through the city, and hundreds of bourgeois
called up to scream, “Fools! Devils! How long do you think you will
last? Wait till the Cossacks come!”
Dusk was already falling. On the almost deserted Nevsky, swept by a
bitter wind, a crowd had gathered before the Kazan Cathedral,
continuing the endless debate; a few workmen, some soldiers and the
rest shop-keepers, clerks and the like.
“But Lenin won’t get Germany to make peace!” cried one.
A violent young soldier replied. “And whose fault is it? Your damn
Kerensky, dirty bourgeois! To hell with Kerensky! We don’t want him! We
want Lenin….”
Outside the Duma an officer with a white arm-band was tearing down
posters from the wall, swearing loudly. One read:
To the Population of Petrograd!
At this dangerous hour, when the Municipal Duma ought to use every
means to calm the population, to assure it bread and other necessities,
the Right Socialist Revolutionaries and the Cadets, forgetting their
duty, have turned the Duma into a counter-revolutionary meeting, trying
to raise part of the population against the rest, so as to facilitate
the victory of Kornilov-Kerensky. Instead of doing their duty, the
Right Socialist Revolutionaries and the Cadets have transformed the
Duma into an arena of political attack upon the Soviets of Workers’,
Soldiers’ and Peasants’ Deputies, against the revolutionary Government
of peace, bread and liberty.
Citizens of Petrograd, we, the Bolshevik Municipal Councillors elected
by you—we want you to know that the Right Socialist Revolutionaries and
the Cadets are engaged in counter-revolutionary action, have forgotten
their duty, and are leading the population to famine, to civil war. We,
elected by 183,000 votes, consider it our duty to bring to the
attention of our constituents what is going on in the Duma, and declare
that we disclaim all responsibility for the terrible but inevitable
consequences….
Far away still sounded occasional shots, but the city lay quiet, cold,
as if exhausted by the violent spasms which had torn it.
In the Nicolai Hall the Duma session was coming to an end. Even the
truculent Duma seemed a little stunned. One after another the
Commissars reported—capture of the Telephone Exchange, street-fighting,
the taking of the Vladimir school…. “The Duma,” said Trupp, “is on the
side of the democracy in its struggle against arbitrary violence; but
in any case, whichever side wins, the Duma will always be against
lynchings and torture….”
Konovski, Cadet, a tall old man with a cruel face: “When the troops of
the legal Government arrive in Petrograd, they will shoot down these
insurgents, and that will not be lynching!” Protests all over the hall,
even from his own party.
Here there was doubt and depression. The counter-revolution was being
put down. The Central Committee of the Socialist Revolutionary party
had voted lack of confidence in its officers; the left wing was in
control; Avksentiev had resigned. A courier reported that the Committee
of Welcome sent to meet Kerensky at the railway station had been
arrested. In the streets could be heard the dull rumble of distant
cannonading, south and southwest. Still Kerensky did not come…
Only three newspapers were out—_Pravda, Dielo Naroda_ and _Novaya
Zhizn._ All of them devoted much space to the new “coalition”
Government. The Socialist Revolutionary paper demanded a Cabinet
without either Cadets or Bolsheviki. Gorky was hopeful; Smolny had made
concessions. A purely Socialist Government was taking shape—all
elements except the bourgeoisie. As for _Pravda,_ it sneered:
We ridicule these coalitions with political parties whose most
prominent members are petty journalists of doubtful reputation; our
“coalition” is that of the proletariat and the revolutionary Army with
the poor peasants…
On the walls a vainglorious announcement of the _Vikzhel,_ threatening
to strike if both sides did not compromise:
The conquerors of these riots, the saviours of the wreck of our
country, these will be neither the Bolsheviki, nor the Committee for
Salvation, nor the troops of Kerensky—but we, the Union of Railwaymen…
Red Guards are incapable of handling a complicated business like the
railways; as for the Provisional Government, it has shown itself
incapable of holding the power…
We refuse to lend our services to any party which does not act by
authority of … a Government based on the confidence of all the
democracy….
Smolny thrilled with the boundless vitality of inexhaustible humanity
in action.
In Trade Union headquarters Lozovsky introduced me to a delegate of the
Railway Workers of the Nicolai line, who said that the men were holding
huge mass-meetings, condemning the action of their leaders.
“All power to the Soviets!” he cried, pounding on the table. “The
_oborontsi_ in the Central Committee are playing Kornilov’s game. They
tried to send a mission to the Stavka, but we arrested them at Minsk….
Our branch has demanded an All-Russian Convention, and they refuse to
call it….”
The same situation as in the Soviets, the Army Committees. One after
another the various democratic organisations, all over Russia, were
cracking and changing. The Cooperatives were torn by internal
struggles; the meetings of the Peasants’ Executive broke up in stormy
wrangling; even among the Cossacks there was trouble….
On the top floor the Military Revolutionary Committee was in full
blast, striking and slacking not. Men went in, fresh and vigorous;
night and day and night and day they threw themselves into the terrible
machine; and came out limp, blind with fatigue, hoarse and filthy, to
fall on the floor and sleep…. The Committee for Salvation had been
outlawed. Great piles of new proclamations (See App. VIII, Sect. 2)
littered the floor:
… The conspirators, who have no support among the garrison or the
working-class, above all counted on the suddenness of their attack.
Their plan was discovered in time by Sub-Lieutenant Blagonravov, thanks
to the revolutionary vigilance of a soldier of the Red Guard, whose
name shall be made public. At the centre of the plot was the Committee
for Salvation. Colonel Polkovnikov was in command of their forces, and
the orders were signed by Gotz, former member of the Provisional
Government, allowed at liberty on his word of honour….
Bringing these facts to the attention of the Petrograd population, the
Military Revolutionary Committee orders the arrest of all concerned in
the conspiracy, who shall be tried before the Revolutionary Tribunal….
From Moscow, word that the _yunkers_ and Cossacks had surrounded the
Kremlin and ordered the Soviet troops to lay down their arms. The
Soviet forces complied, and as they were leaving the Kremlin, were set
upon and shot down. Small forces of Bolsheviki had been driven from the
Telephone and Telegraph offices; the _yunkers_ now held the centre of
the city. … But all around them the Soviet troops were mustering.
Street-fighting was slowly gathering way; all attempts at compromise
had failed…. On the side of the Soviet, ten thousand garrison soldiers
and a few Red Guards; on the side of the Government, six thousand
_yunkers,_ twenty-five hundred Cossacks and two thousand White Guards.
The Petrograd Soviet was meeting, and next door the new _Tsay-ee-kah,_
acting on the decrees and orders (See App. VIII, Sect. 3) which came
down in a steady stream from the Council of People’s Commissars in
session upstairs; on the Order in Which Laws Are to be Ratified and
Published, Establishing an Eight hour Days for Workers, and
Lunatcharsky’s “Basis for a System of Popular Education.” Only a few
hundred people were present at the two meetings, most of them armed.
Smolny was almost deserted, except for the guards, who were busy at the
hall windows, setting up machine-guns to command the flanks of the
building.
In the _Tsay-ee-kah_ a delegate of the _Vikzhel_ was speaking: “We
refuse to transport the troops of either party…. We have sent a
committee to Kerensky to say that if he continues to march on Petrograd
we will break his lines of communication….”
He made the usual plea for a conference of all the Socialist parties to
form a new Government….
Kameniev answered discreetly. The Bolsheviki would be very glad to
attend the conference. The centre of gravity, however, lay not in
composition of such a Government, but in its acceptance of the
programme of the Congress of Soviets.
… The _Tsay-ee-kah_ had deliberated on the declaration made by the Left
Socialist Revolutionaries and the Social Democrats Internationalists,
and had accepted the proposition of proportional representation at the
conference, even including delegates from the Army Committees and the
Peasants’ Soviets….
In the great hall, Trotzky recounted the events of the day.
“We offered the Vladimir _yunkers_ a chance to surrender,” he said. “We
wanted to settle matters without bloodshed. But now that blood has been
spilled there is only one way—pitiless struggle. It would be childish
to think we can win by any other means…. The moment is decisive.
Everybody must cooperate with the Military Revolutionary Committee,
report where there are stores of barbed wire, benzine, guns…. We’ve won
the power; now we must keep it!”
The Menshevik Yoffe tried to read his party’s declaration, but Trotzky
refused to allow “a debate about principle.”
“Our debates are now in the streets,” he cried. “The decisive step has
been taken. We all, and I in particular, take the responsibility for
what is happening….”
Soldiers from the front, from Gatchina, told their stories. One from
the Death Battalion, Four Hundred Eighty-first Artillery: “When the
trenches hear of this, they will cry, ‘This is _our_ Government!’” A
_yunker_ from Peterhof said that he and two others had refused to march
against the Soviets; and when his comrades had returned from the
defence of the Winter Palace they appointed him their Commissar, to go
to Smolny and offer their services to the _real_ Revolution….
Then Trotzky again, fiery, indefatigable, giving orders, answering
questions.
“The petty bourgeoisie, in order to defeat the workers, soldiers and
peasants, would combine with the devil himself!” he said once. Many
cases of drunkenness had been remarked the last two days. “No drinking,
comrades! No one must be on the streets after eight in the evening,
except the regular guards. All places suspected of having stores of
liquor should be searched, and the liquor destroyed. (See App. VIII,
Sect. 4) No mercy to the sellers of liquor….”
The Military Revolutionary Committee sent for the delegation from the
Viborg section; then for the members from Putilov. They clumped out
hurriedly.
“For each revolutionist killed,” said Trotzky, “we shall kill five
counter-revolutionists!”
Down-town again. The Duma brilliantly illuminated and great crowds
pouring in. In the lower hall wailing and cries of grief; the throng
surged back and forth before the bulletin board, where was posted a
list of _yunkers_ killed in the day’s fighting—or supposed to be
killed, for most of the dead afterward turned up safe and sound…. Up in
the Alexander Hall the Committee for Salvation held forth. The gold and
red epaulettes of officers were conspicuous, the familiar faces of the
Menshevik and Socialist Revolutionary intellectuals, the hard eyes and
bulky magnificence of bankers and diplomats, officials of the old
régime, and well-dressed women….
The telephone girls were testifying. Girl after girl came to the
tribune—over-dressed, fashion-aping little girls, with pinched faces
and leaky shoes. Girl after girl, flushing with pleasure at the
applause of the “nice” people of Petrograd, of the officers, the rich,
the great names of politics—girl after girl, to narrate her sufferings
at the hands of the proletariat, and proclaim her loyalty to all that
was old, established and powerful….
The Duma was again in session in the Nicolai Hall. The Mayor said
hopefully that the Petrograd regiments were ashamed of their actions;
propaganda was making headway.
[Graphic, page 205: Proclamation for “wine pogroms”]
Revolutionary law and order. A proclamation of the Finland Regiment, in
December, 1917, announcing desperate remedies for “wine pogroms.” For
translation see Appendix 5.
… Emissaries came and went, reporting horrible deeds by the Bolsheviki,
interceding to save the _yunkers,_ busily investigating….
“The Bolsheviki,” said Trupp, “will be conquered by moral force, and
not by bayonets…..”
Meanwhile all was not well on the revolutionary front. The enemy had
brought up armoured trains, mounted with cannon. The Soviet forces,
mostly raw Red Guards, were without officers and without a definite
plan. Only five thousand regular soldiers had joined them; the rest of
the garrison was either busy suppressing the _yunker_ revolt, guarding
the city, or undecided what to do. At ten in the evening Lenin
addressed a meeting of delegates from the city regiments, who voted
overwhelmingly to fight. A Committee of five soldiers was elected to
serve as General Staff, and in the small hours of the morning the
regiments left their barracks in full battle array…. Going home I saw
them pass, swinging along with the regular tread of veterans, bayonets
in perfect alignment, through the deserted streets of the conquered
city….
At the same time, in the headquarters of the _Vikzhel_ down on the
Sadovaya, the conference of all the Socialist parties to form a new
Government was under way. Abramovitch, for the centre Mensheviki, said
that there should be neither conquerors nor conquered—that bygones
should be bygones. …In this were agreed all the left wing parties. Dan,
speaking in the name of the right Mensheviki, proposed to the
Bolsheviki the following conditions for a truce: The Red Guard to be
disarmed, and the Petrograd garrison to be placed at the orders of the
Duma; the troops of Kerensky not to fire a single shot or arrest a
single man; a Ministry of all the Socialist parties _except the
Bolsheviki._ For Smolny Riazanov and Kameniev declared that a coalition
ministry of all parties was acceptable, but protested at Dan’s
proposals. The Socialist Revolutionaries were divided; but the
Executive Committee of the Peasants’s Soviets and the Populist
Socialists flatly refused to admit the Bolsheviki…. After bitter
quarrelling a commission was elected to draw up a workable plan….
All that night the commission wrangled, and all the next day, and the
next night. Once before, on the 9th of November, there had been a
similar effort at conciliation, led by Martov and Gorky; but at the
approach of Kerensky and the activity of the Committee for Salvation,
the right wing of the Mensheviki, Socialist Revolutionaries and
Populist Socialists suddenly withdrew. Now they were awed by the
crushing of the _yunker_ rebellion…
Monday the 12th was a day of suspense. The eyes of all Russia were
fixed on the grey plain beyond the gates of Petrograd, where all the
available strength of the old order faced the unorganised power of the
new, the unknown. In Moscow a truce had been declared; both sides
parleyed, awaiting the result in the capital. Now the delegates to the
Congress of Soviets, hurrying on speeding trains to the farthest
reaches of Asia, were coming to their homes, carrying the fiery cross.
In wide-spreading ripples news of the miracle spread over the face of
the land, and in its wake towns, cities and far villages stirred and
broke, Soviets and Military Revolutionary Committees against Dumas,
Zemstvos and Government Commissars—Red Guards against White—street
fighting and passionate speech…. The result waited on the word from
Petrograd….
Smolny was almost empty, but the Duma was thronged and noisy. The old
Mayor, in his dignified way, was protesting against the Appeal of the
Bolshevik Councillors.
“The Duma is not a centre of counter-revolution,” he said, warmly. “The
Duma takes no part in the present struggle between the parties. But at
a time when there is no legal power in the land, the only centre of
order is the Municipal Self-Government. The peaceful population
recognises this fact; the foreign Embassies recognise only such
documents as are signed by the Mayor of the town. The mind of a
European does not admit of any other situation, as the Municipal
self-government is the only organ which is capable of protecting the
interests of the citizens. The City is bound to show hospitality, to
all organisations which desire to profit by such hospitality, and
therefore the Duma cannot prevent the distribution of any newspapers
whatever within the Duma building. The sphere of our work is
increasing, and we must be given full liberty of action, and our rights
must be respected by both parties….
“We are perfectly neutral. When the Telephone Exchange was occupied by
the _yunkers_ Colonel Polkovnikov ordered the telephones to Smolny
disconnected, but I protested, and the telephones were kept going….”
At this there was ironic laughter from the Bolshevik benches, and
imprecations from the right.
“And yet,” went on Schreider, “they look upon us as
counter-revolutionaries and report us to the population. They deprive
us of our means of transport by taking away our last motor-cars. It
will not be our fault if there is famine in the town. Protests are of
no use….”
Kobozev, Bolshevik member of the Town Board, was doubtful whether the
Military Revolutionary Committee had requisitioned the Municipal
automobiles. Even granting the fact, it was probably done by some
unauthorised individual, in the emergency.
“The Mayor,” he continued, “tells us that we must not make political
meetings out of the Duma. But every Menshevik and Socialist
Revolutionary here talks nothing but party propaganda, and at the door
they distribute their illegal newspapers, _Iskri_ (Sparks), _Soldatski
Golos_ and _Rabotchaya Gazeta,_ inciting to insurrection. What if we
Bolsheviki should also begin to distribute our papers here? But this
shall not be, for we respect the Duma. We have not attacked the
Municipal Self-Government, and we shall not do so. But you have
addressed an Appeal to the population, and we are entitled also to do
so….”
Followed him Shingariov, Cadet, who said that there could be no common
language with those who were liable to be brought before the Attorney
General for indictment, and who must be tried on the charge of
treason…. He proposed again that all Bolshevik members should be
expelled from the Duma. This was tabled, however, for there were no
personal charges against the members, and they were active in the
Municipal administration.
Then two Mensheviki Internationalists, declaring that the Appeal of the
Bolshevik Councillors was a direct incitement to massacre. “If
everything that is against the Bolsheviki is counter-revolutionary,”
said Pinkevitch, “then I do not know the difference between revolution
and anarchy…. The Bolsheviki are depending upon the passions of the
unbridled masses; we have nothing but moral force. We will protest
against massacres and violence from both sides, as our task is to find
a peaceful issue.”
“The notice posted in the streets under the heading ‘To the Pillory,’
which calls upon the people to destroy the Mensheviki and Socialist
Revolutionaries,” said Nazariev, “is a crime which you, Bolsheviki,
will not be able to wash away. Yesterday’s horrors are but a preface to
what you are preparing by such a proclamation…. I have always tried to
reconcile you with the other parties, but at present I feel for you
nothing but contempt!”
The Bolshevik Councillors were on their feet, shouting angrily,
assailed by hoarse, hateful voices and waving arms….
Outside the hall I ran into the City Engineer, the Menshevik Gomberg
and three or four reporters. They were all in high spirits.
“See!” they said. “The cowards are afraid of us. They don’t dare arrest
the Duma! Their Military Revolutionary Committee doesn’t dare to send a
Commissar into this building. Why, on the corner of the Sadovaya
to-day, I saw a Red Guard try to stop a boy selling _Soldatski Golos_….
The boy just laughed at him, and a crowd of people wanted to lynch the
bandit. It’s only a few hours more, now. Even if Kerensky wouldn’t come
they haven’t the men to run a Government. Absurd! I understand they’re
even fighting among themselves at Smolny!”
A Socialist Revolutionary friend of mine drew me aside. “I know where
the Committee for Salvation is hiding,” he said. “Do you want to go and
talk with them?”
By this time it was dusk. The city had again settled down to
normal—shop-shutters up, lights shining, and on the streets great
crowds of people slowly moving up and down and arguing….
At Number 86 Nevsky we went through a passage into a courtyard,
surrounded by tall apartment buildings. At the door of apartment 229 my
friend knocked in a peculiar way. There was a sound of scuffling; an
inside door slammed; then the front door opened a crack and a woman’s
face appeared. After a minute’s observation she led us in—a
placid-looking, middle-aged lady who at once cried, “Kyril, it’s all
right!” In the dining-room, where a samovar steamed on the table and
there were plates full of bread and raw fish, a man in uniform emerged
from behind the window-curtains, and another, dressed like a workman,
from a closet. They were delighted to meet an American reporter. With a
certain amount of gusto both said that they would certainly be shot if
the Bolsheviki caught them. They would not give me their names, but
both were Socialist Revolutionaries….
“Why,” I asked, “do you publish such lies in your newspapers?”
Without taking offence the officer replied, “Yes, I know; but what can
we do?” He shrugged. “You must admit that it is necessary for us to
create a certain frame of mind in the people….”
The other man interrupted. “This is merely an adventure on the part of
the Bolsheviki. They have no intellectuals…. The Ministries won’t
work…. Russia is not a city, but a whole country…. Realising that they
can only last a few days, we have decided to come to the aid of the
strongest force opposed to them—Kerensky—and help to restore order.”
“That is all very well,” I said. “But why do you combine with the
Cadets?”
The pseudo-workman smiled frankly. “To tell you the truth, at this
moment the masses of the people are following the Bolsheviki. We have
no following—now. We can’t mobilise a handful of soldiers. There are no
arms available…. The Bolsheviki are right to a certain extent; there
are at this moment in Russia only two parties with any force—the
Bolsheviki and the reactionaries, who are all hiding under the
coat-tails of the Cadets. The Cadets think they are using us; but it is
really we who are using the Cadets. When we smash the Bolsheviki we
shall turn against the Cadets….”
“Will the Bolsheviki be admitted into the new Government?”
He scratched his head. “That’s a problem,” he admitted. “Of course if
they are not admitted, they’ll probably do this all over again. At any
rate, they will have a chance to hold the balance of power in the
Constituent—that is, if there _is_ a Constituent.”
“And then, too,” said the officer, “that brings up the question of
admitting the Cadets into the new Government—and for the same reasons.
You know the Cadets do not really want the Constituent Assembly—not if
the Bolsheviki can be destroyed now.” He shook his head. “It is not
easy for us Russians, politics. You Americans are born politicians; you
have had politics all your lives. But for us—well, it has only been a
year, you know!”
“What do you think of Kerensky?” I asked.
“Oh, Kerensky is guilty of the sins of the Provisional Government,”
answered the other man. “Kerensky himself forced us to accept coalition
with the bourgeoisie. If he had resigned, as he threatened, it would
have meant a new Cabinet crisis only sixteen weeks before the
Constituent Assembly, and that we wanted to avoid.”
“But didn’t it amount to that anyway?”
“Yes, but how were we to know? They tricked us—the Kerenskys and
Avksentievs. Gotz is a little more radical. I stand with Tchernov, who
is a real revolutionist…. Why, only to-day Lenin sent word that he
would not object to Tchernov entering the Government.
“We wanted to get rid of the Kerensky Government too, but we thought it
better to wait for the Constituent…. At the beginning of this affair I
was with the Bolsheviki, but the Central Committee of my party voted
unanimously against it—and what could I do? It was a matter of party
discipline….
“In a week the Bolshevik Government will go to pieces; if the Socialist
Revolutionaries could only stand aside and wait, the Government would
fall into their hands. But if we wait a week the country will be so
disorganised that the German imperialists will be victorious. That is
why we began our revolt with only two regiments of soldiers promising
to support us—and they turned against us…. That left only the
_yunkers_….”
“How about the Cossacks?”
The officer sighed. “They did not move. At first they said they would
come out if they had infantry support. They said moreover that they had
their men with Kerensky, and that they were doing their part…. Then,
too, they said that the Cossacks were always accused of being the
hereditary enemies of democracy…. And finally, ‘The Bolsheviki promise
that they will not take away our land. There is no danger to us. We
remain neutral.’”
During this talk people were constantly entering and leaving—most of
them officers, their shoulder-straps torn off. We could see them in the
hall, and hear their low, vehement voices. Occasionally, through the
half-drawn portières, we caught a glimpse of a door opening into a
bath-room, where a heavily-built officer in a colonel’s uniform sat on
the toilet, writing something on a pad held in his lap. I recognised
Colonel Polkovnikov, former commandant of Petrograd, for whose arrest
the Military Revolutionary Committee would have paid a fortune.
“Our programme?” said the officer. “This is it. Land to be turned over
to the Land Committees. Workmen to have full representation in the
control of industry. An energetic peace programme, but not an ultimatum
to the world such as the Bolsheviki issued. The Bolsheviki cannot keep
their promises to the masses, even in the country itself. We won’t let
them…. They stole our land programme in order to get the support of the
peasants. That is dishonest. If they had waited for the Constituent
Assembly—”
“It doesn’t matter about the Constituent Assembly!” broke in the
officer. “If the Bolsheviki want to establish a Socialist state here,
we cannot work with them in any event! Kerensky made the great mistake.
He let the Bolsheviki know what he was going to do by announcing in the
Council of the Republic that he had ordered their arrest….
“But what,” I said, “do you intend to do now?”
The two men looked at one another. “You will see in a few days. If
there are enough troops from the front on our side, we shall not
compromise with the Bolsheviki. If not, perhaps we shall be forced
to….”
Out again on the Nevsky we swung on the step of a streetcar bulging
with people, its platforms bent down from the weight and scraping along
the ground, which crawled with agonising slowness the long miles to
Smolny.
Meshkovsky, a neat, frail little man, was coming down the hall, looking
worried. The strikes in the Ministries, he told us, were having their
effect. For instance, the Council of People’s Commissars had promised
to publish the Secret Treaties; but Neratov, the functionary in charge,
had disappeared, taking the documents with him. They were supposed to
be hidden in the British Embassy….
Worst of all, however, was the strike in the banks. “Without money,”
said Menzhinsky, “we are helpless. The wages of the railroad men, of
the postal and telegraph employees, must be paid…. The banks are
closed; and the key to the situation, the State Bank, is also shut. All
the bank-clerks in Russia have been bribed to stop work….
“But Lenin has issued an order to dynamite the State Bank vaults, and
there is a Decree just out, ordering the private banks to open
to-morrow, or we will open them ourselves!”
The Petrograd Soviet was in full swing, thronged with armed men,
Trotzky reporting:
“The Cossacks are falling back from Krasnoye Selo.” (Sharp, exultant
cheering.) “But the battle is only beginning. At Pulkovo heavy fighting
is going on. All available forces must be hurried there….
“From Moscow, bad news. The Kremlin is in the hands of the _yunkers,_
and the workers have only a few arms. The result depends upon
Petrograd.
“At the front, the decrees on Peace and Land are provoking great
enthusiasm. Kerensky is flooding the trenches with tales of Petrograd
burning and bloody, of women and children massacred by the Bolsheviki.
But no one believes him….
“The cruisers _Oleg, Avrora_ and _Respublica_ are anchored in the Neva,
their guns trained on the approaches to the city….”
“Why aren’t you out there with the Red Guards?” shouted a rough voice.
“I’m going now!” answered Trotzky, and left the platform. His face a
little paler than usual, he passed down the side of the room,
surrounded by eager friends, and hurried out to the waiting automobile.
Kameniev now spoke, describing the proceedings of the reconciliation
conference. The armistice conditions proposed by the Mensheviki, he
said, had been contemptuously rejected. Even the branches of the
Railwaymen’s Union had voted against such a proposition….
“Now that we’ve won the power and are sweeping all Russia,” he
declared, “all they ask of us are three little things: 1. To surrender
the power. 2. To make the soldiers continue the war. 3. To make the
peasants forget about the land….”
Lenin appeared for a moment, to answer the accusations of the Socialist
Revolutionaries:
“They charge us with stealing their land programme…. If that is so, we
bow to them. It is good enough for us….”
So the meeting roared on, leader after leader explaining, exhorting,
arguing, soldier after soldier, workman after workman, standing up to
speak his mind and his heart…. The audience flowed, changing and
renewed continually. From time to time men came in, yelling for the
members of such and such a detachment, to go to the front; others,
relieved, wounded, or coming to Smolny for arms and equipment, poured
in….
It was almost three o’clock in the morning when, as we left the hall,
Holtzman, of the Military Revolutionary Committee, came running down
the hall with a transfigured face.
“It’s all right!” he shouted, grabbing my hands. “Telegram from the
front. Kerensky is smashed! Look at this!”
He held out a sheet of paper, scribbled hurriedly in pencil, and then,
seeing we couldn’t read it, he declaimed aloud:
Pulkovo. Staff. 2.10 A.M.
The night of October 30th to 31st will go down in history. The attempt
of Kerensky to move counter-revolutionary troops against the capital of
the Revolution has been decisively repulsed. Kerensky is retreating, we
are advancing. The soldiers, sailors and workers of Petrograd have
shown that they can and will with arms in their hands enforce the will
and authority of the democracy. The bourgeoisie tried to isolate the
revolutionary army. Kerensky attempted to break it by the force of the
Cossacks. Both plans met a pitiful defeat.
The grand idea of the domination of the worker and peasant democracy
closed the ranks of the army and hardened its will. All the country
from now on will be convinced that the Power of the Soviets is no
ephemeral thing, but an invincible fact…. The repulse of Kerensky is
the repulse of the land-owners, the bourgeoisie and the Kornilovists in
general. The repulse of Kerensky is the confirmation of the right of
the people to a peaceful free life, to land, bread and power. The
Pulkovo detachment by its valorous blow has strengthened the cause of
the Workers’ and Peasants’s Revolution. There is no return to the past.
Before us are struggles, obstacles and sacrifices. But the road is
clear and victory is certain.
Revolutionary Russia and the Soviet Power can be proud of their Pulkovo
detachment, acting under the command of Colonel Walden. Eternal memory
to those who fell! Glory to the warriors of the Revolution, the
soldiers and the officers who were faithful to the People!
Long live revolutionary, popular, Socialist Russia!
In the name of the Council,
L. TROTZKY, People’s Commissar….
Driving home across Znamensky Square, we made out an unusual crowd in
front of the Nicolai Railway Station. Several thousand sailors were
massed there, bristling with rifles.
Standing on the steps, a member of the _Vikzhel_ was pleading with
them.
“Comrades, we cannot carry you to Moscow. We are neutral. We do not
carry troops for either side. We cannot take you to Moscow, where
already there is terrible civil war….”
All the seething Square roared at him; the sailors began to surge
forward. Suddenly another door was flung wide; in it stood two or three
brakeman, a fireman or so.
“This way, comrades!” cried one. “We will take you to Moscow—or
Vladivostok, if you like! Long live the Revolution!”