HOMEWARD BOUND
On May 17 Omsk was excluded from the Vatka (station), and by this
indirect means became aware that the Supreme Governor was returning from
the front. The Cossack Guard lined up outside, while detachments of
Russian infantry in English uniform occupied the platform. The Russian
Tommies looked quite smart, and except for their long, narrow,
triangular bayonets, might easily have been mistaken for English troops.
While awaiting the train, General Knox informed me that two of our
proposals, "Women's suffrage" and "Universal education," had been cut
out by the reactionaries. Why are the churches of the world so hostile
to the popular education of the people? The Church is quite prepared to
allow the people to receive educational instruction if controlled by the
priests. It prefers to leave them in ignorance and the easy prey of
Bolshevik charlatanism rather than allow free play for intelligent
thinking. Women's suffrage was opposed by quite a different set of men,
mostly those who make enormous display of deference to drawing-room
ladies, and look upon us Englishmen as wanting in gallantry because we
do not kiss every feminine hand we shake. On the whole I think it is
good to have pushed them ahead so far. Measured by Russian standards, it
amounts to a revolution in ideas of government. The great thing just now
is to fix some point beyond which the pendulum shall not be allowed to
swing towards reaction. The workmen are sick of strife and would gladly
go straight back to the old régime as an easy way of escape from
Bolshevism. This is the danger from which English diplomacy has tried,
and is trying, to guard the Russian people if possible.
Thus, having finished my work at Omsk, I asked that arrangements might
be made as quickly as possible to transport my escort and myself to
Vladivostok. The arrangements were completed by May 21, when I announced
myself ready to begin the first stage of my journey homeward. The
Supreme Governor surprised me by proposing to visit me in my carriage at
the Vatka to say "Good-bye." At 7 P.M. he came, attended by his
aide-de-camp; he was very gracious in his thanks for my services to the
Russian people. He said my voice, presence and influence had aroused the
better elements to throw off the feeling of despair which had so
universally settled upon them. He did not presume to calculate the good
I had done, though none appreciated it better than himself, since we had
been thrown by circumstances into personal contact with each other.
Without attempting to form an estimate of his character, I considered
his visit and words the act of a gentleman, and as such I appreciated
it.
I could but recall the last time he visited me in those dark, doubtful
days of November, when I, who had no thought or place in my make-up for
the word "Dictator," suddenly found myself in the presence of him who
had that moment assumed such a position, and what was more serious for
me, found myself forced on my own authority, unaided by one word of
warning or counsel from others, instantly to decide not only my own
attitude but also, to some extent, that of my country to this last act
in the drama of a people grown desperate. Once having given my promise
to help, he never found that help withheld at critical moments later.
The British forces were few, but they were disciplined and knew their
own mind, and this was what every other party, both Russian and Allied,
lacked. Every Allied force had its "Politicals" at hand, and therefore
were powerless for any purpose. The Fates had sent ours to Vladivostok,
5,000 versts east, at the very moment when their presence and general
political policy would have paralysed correct military action. The month
which intervened before they could exert direct influence upon the
situation enabled us to consolidate the new orientation. The greater
part of this time we were "in the air," having cut our own
communications, and no countermanding orders could interrupt or confuse
the nerve centre. At first the "Politicals" were inclined to be angry,
but with such a tower of strength as General Knox in support they soon
came to look upon the proceedings as a _fait accompli_. Later they
confessed that their absence at the supreme moment was the act of a wise
Providence. The very nature of their business (had they been present)
would have created delays and difficulties that might have proved fatal
to success.
Except for some quaint fetish about the necessity for maintaining the
usual diplomatic forms, there is no necessity for delay in emergencies
of this description. If an ordinarily intelligent Englishman, with a
fair knowledge of English history and a grasp of the traditions and
mentality of his countrymen, cannot carry on, how are people miles away,
with no opportunity to visualise the actual situation, to instruct him?
Diplomatic methods and forms are all right for leisurely negotiations,
but are useless in urgent and dangerous occasions. If my work fails, as
even now it may, I shall be subject to severe criticism; but I shall get
that even if it succeeds, so what does it matter so long as in my own
mind I did the best in the circumstances?
My journey east was broken at Krasnoyarsk to enable me to interview the
new commander, General Rosanoff, who had taken in hand the suppression
of the revolt of the Lettish peasants north of the railway. South of the
line all hostile elements had been dispersed. The line cut through the
centre of the Bolshevik field of operations. The Czechs guarded the
actual railway, and while they prevented large forces from moving across
it, they took but little trouble to prevent miscreants from tampering
with the rails, as was evidenced by the scores of derailed trains in all
stages of destruction strewn along the track. This naturally involved
great material loss and, what was still worse, a huge toll of innocent
human life. One train, a fast passenger, accounted for two hundred
women and children, besides uncounted men. Fairly large Russian forces
were now placed at General Rosanoff's disposal, and by a wide turning
movement from Krasnoyarsk in a north-easterly direction, and with a
large cavalry force operating towards the north-west from Irkutsk, the
whole gang would, it was hoped, be herded towards the centre, and a few
weeks would probably liquidate the whole disturbance. The Krasnoyarsk
and the Ussurie movements of the Bolsheviks were under the direction of
able officers appointed by the Red Guard Headquarters at Moscow, with
whom they were in constant communication.
Passing Irkutsk, we again struck the Baikal--looking more glorious than
before. The warm south-west winds had cleared the snow from the western
hills and thawed the ice from that half of the sea. The other half was
still ice-bound. In the morning sunshine the snow-covered mountains in
the east pierced the heavens with the radiance of eternal day. The
disappearance of the sun only adds to their beauty; they alone seem to
know no night. As we travelled round under the shadow of these giants
the temperature fell many degrees below zero, and the cold from the
water penetrated the carriages, necessitating fires and warm furs, in
spite of the June sunshine.
I had received intimation that it would be of service to the Omsk
Government if I would call upon Colonel Semianoff and use my good
offices and my newly-conferred honour as a Siberian Cossack Ataman to
recall this erring son of Muscovy to the service of the State. I knew
that British pressure had been applied to persuade the Japanese to cease
their financial and moral support--both open and secret--to this
redoubtable opponent of the Russian Government, and it was rumoured that
British wishes had at last been complied with. It was common knowledge
that the illegal floggings, murders, and robberies committed under the
alleged authority of Colonel Semianoff would not have remained
unpunished a day if he had not been under the protection of one of the
most numerously represented Allied forces. Whatever faults may be
alleged against Admiral Koltchak, cruelty or injustice cannot be
included among them. I well remember his fury when it was reported to
him that some eighty workmen had been illegally flogged by Semianoff's
soldiers at Chita. His poor dilapidated reserves were ordered to move at
once to their protection. Semianoff prepared his armoured trains and
troops to receive them, but the same Allied Power which fed, clothed,
and armed his troops kept at bay those who were ordered to avenge the
wrongs of the Russian workmen.
On another occasion I remember Admiral Koltchak's almost hopeless
despair when some truculent officers had used their weapons and badges
of rank to secure the persons of some Bolshevik prisoners, and
anticipating the decision of the court about to try them, shot them in
cold blood. He at once executed the officers and men who handed them
over, as well as such of those who took part in the conspiracy, even
though they claimed to be merely the avengers of their own murdered
families. Stern, impartial justice is part and parcel of this remarkable
man's character. It was this very trait which made Semianoff and the
Supreme Governor natural enemies.
The day that I arrived at Chita it was officially announced that
Semianoff had made his submission to the authority of Koltchak, and had
accepted an appointment in the Russian Army. My task therefore changed
its character; the proposed admonishment became a congratulation in a
very frank and friendly half-hour's interview, the colonel returning the
visit to my carriage later. Colonel Semianoff is one of the most
striking personalities I have met in Russia; a man of medium height,
with square broad shoulders, an enormous head, the size of which is
greatly enhanced by the flat, Mongol face, from which gleam two clear,
brilliant eyes that rather belong to an animal than a man. The whole
pose of the man is at first suspicious, alert, determined, like a tiger
ready to spring, to rend and tear, but in repose the change is
remarkable, and with a quiet smile upon the brown face the body relaxes.
Colonel Semianoff is a very pleasant personality. His great physical
strength has caused the Japanese to name him "Samurai," or "Brave Knight
of the Field," and I think that is a good description of his character.
Relentless and brave, kindness nevertheless finds a part in his make-up.
The princes of Mongolia have asked him to become their emperor, and
should he choose this path a whirlwind will pass over the neighbouring
lands. Perhaps underneath he is, after all, a good Russian--time will
tell. If his conversion is real he will add a tower of strength to the
Russian fighting forces.
At Harbin I heard a full explanation of the reason for the Mongolians
approaching Semianoff to become their emperor. Mongolia previous to the
Revolution was considered as under a loose sort of Russian protection.
Since the break-up of the Russian Empire the Japanese have cast longing
eyes upon this extensive country, which is supposed to belong to both
Russia and China but in reality it belongs to neither. The Japanese have
roamed all over the country during these last two years, and have spent
time and money lavishly in propaganda. They first tried to orientate the
Mongol mind towards a direct connection with themselves, but their
avarice and conceit offend all the people with whom they come into
contact. This direct method of getting control of Mongolia had therefore
to be abandoned in favour of a round-about but more dangerous policy.
Colonel Semianoff is only half Russian, his mother being a Mongolian
woman of high birth. He speaks Mongolian perfectly, and the Mongolians
claim him for their own. Semianoff admitted to me personally that he had
been subsidised all through by Japan. It was the Japanese who called the
Mongolian princes together and prevailed upon them to offer Semianoff
the title of Emperor of Mongolia. He had other fish to fry, however, but
when his other schemes fail, as I think they must, he will be quite
ready to play the Japanese game in Mongolia as faithfully as he did in
Siberia. Semianoff will be the puppet, but Japan will pull the strings;
that at least is their hope and belief.
About thirty versts west of Manchuli our train was stopped by a red
flag, and a railway workman informed us of a raid upon a homestead by
the side of the railway, the robbers having decamped two hours before
our arrival. The father had two bullets through his chest and one
through the right side of his neck, and had crawled a distance of over a
verst to give information. He was taken up on our train, and we went
forward to the scene of the tragedy. In the small wooden house, covered
with loose feathers, lay the dead body of the mother with her unborn
baby, near by lay a girl of about ten with her head terribly wounded. In
an outhouse was the body of their Chinese boy. My hospital orderly
rendered what aid was possible to the girl, who was carried by Madame
Frank to my carriage for conveyance to the hospital at Manchuli. A
civilian doctor declared both cases hopeless, and the depositions of the
man were taken. Briefly thus:
When the Bolsheviks first occupied Manchuli a railway workman of
anarchist tendencies was appointed Soviet Commissar of the district.
Afterwards, when the Bolshevik power was destroyed and their forces were
driven off the railway, the Bolshevik bands took to the forest, some
engaging in running contraband over the Chinese frontier, others forming
themselves into bands who not only robbed the isolated peasantry, but
forced young men to join them, and afterwards levied toll upon large
villages and small towns. About three in the morning this Bolshevik
Commissar knocked at the cottage door and asked the father to let him
come in, as he was very tired, having had a long journey with
contraband. Believing him to be alone, the man opened the door. The room
was immediately filled with armed men, who demanded his savings or his
life. The commissar, from his knowledge of such matters, believing his
savings to be in the feather pillow, ripped it open and found 4,600
roubles. Having collected all the other small articles of value in the
house, these innocent children of the Revolution held consultation on
the necessity of killing everybody who knew them to be Bolsheviks, so
that the crime should be cast upon the Chinese robber gangs who
occasionally raid Russian territory. This important point in the
regeneration of Russia settled, they shot the man in the chest, the
bullet coming out by the shoulder-blade. The wife, begging for the life
of her husband, was bayoneted, and the aroused Chinese workman was
dispatched with a rifle. Then these harmless idealists proceeded to
depart. So far they had not touched the girl, but the father, on
regaining consciousness, heard the closed door open again, saw the
leader of the "comrades" re-enter and pick up a small axe near the fire,
with which he proceeded to smash the head of the child. Nature in its
terrible revolt gave the father the power to raise himself slightly from
the floor in a vain effort to grapple with this representative of the
new régime. The commissar shouted: "What, still alive!" and fired two
more point-blank shots at the prostrate man.
It was entirely due to the tenacity of the father that the object of the
killing was frustrated and the identification of the scoundrels with the
Bolshevik commanders operating in this neighbourhood completed. I had
no time to pick up the trail and punish the murderers. What sort of
punishment the Tommies would have decided as necessary to fit the crime
is better imagined than described!
It was June when we passed over the Hinghan range, a series of sand
mountains of great extent which form the breeding-ground for numerous
herds of horses who spread themselves over the slopes and plains and
sometimes endanger the safety of the railway. Snow was falling in
clouds, and banked itself against the rails and telegraphs in a
surprising manner considering the time of the year. The summer of this
wild region lasts about two months--July and August--during which time
the sand becomes hot, and travelling is not comfortable. After crossing
the summit the plains fell gradually away, enabling the trains to move
with great rapidity, and in less than two days we struck Harbin, and
donned our topees and tropical clothes.
Harbin is the centre of Chinese and Russian political and financial
intrigue. Other races take a fair hand in the business, but the
predominance must be conceded to these two. There is some sort of
national feeling amongst the worst type of Russian speculator, but none
amongst the Chinese. The Harbin Chinaman is perfectly denationalised,
and ought, therefore, according to some standards of political
reckonings, to be the most ideal citizen in the world; but the world who
knows him hopes that for ever he may be exclusively confined to Harbin.
I had a long conversation with General Ghondati, one of the most
level-headed living statesmen of the old régime. All his hopes are
centred on the success of Admiral Koltchak in his efforts to secure
order to enable the National Assembly to consider the question of a
Constitutional Monarchy on England's pattern to be established at
Moscow. If this cannot be, he fears Russia's travail will last longer
and may be fatal to her existence. He was not himself opposed to a
Federal Republic, but was certain that without a head the undisciplined
semi-oriental elements would never accept the abolition of absolutism as
final. The Russian people have it in their bones to obey a leader; their
warlike nature precludes the possibility of their continued loyalty to a
junta, however able. A crown on top, with a parliament to control and
direct, would be the happiest solution of Russia's present difficulties.
He summed his theory up in these words: "A properly elected parliament
to make the law and rule, but there must be a monarch to issue its
orders."
Though this is the expressed opinion of what the Bolshevik would term
one of the "old régime," it is nevertheless the openly-expressed opinion
of the sensible leaders of every class of Russian society except
two--the Bolsheviks at one end, and the Absolutists at the other. More
than once already these two extremes have come close together to
frustrate the possibility of a compromise on constitutional lines. They
openly declare that, unless power is given to either one or the other,
they would prefer that the present anarchy should continue. It is not
the first time in revolutionary history that the adherents of autocracy
(Royalist and otherwise) have preferred the ruin of their country rather
than lose their own personal power.
Ghondati is a clear-headed patriot, and I am surprised that his counsel
has not been sought for in this supreme moment of his country's history.
His ideas relating to recognition by the Powers were rather remarkable.
He did not think that any country could give help to Russia without
either asking for conditions or being suspected of doing so. The only
exception was England. The reason England is not suspected is that her
Empire is so vast and varied in character that she has all the raw
material for her trade and all the space she requires for her surplus
population. Her help, unlike that of any other State so far, has been
unselfish and unconditional. Ghondati quite saw that "this fact was
producing a steady and permanent orientation of Russian opinion towards
England, which, if cultivated by British statesmanship, would eventually
give my country everything she required, while those whose help was
always surrounded with conditions would have great difficulty to retain
the advantages they secured only under the pressure of circumstances."