The beginning of the career of Gregory Rasputin is shrouded with a veil
of deep mystery. He was a native of Siberia, of a small village in the
government of Tobolsk, called Pokrovskoie. Some people relate that
when quite a youth he was compromised in a crime which attracted some
attention at the time--the murder of a rich merchant who was travelling
from Omsk to Tobolsk to acquire from an inhabitant of the latter town
some gold diggings, of which he wished to dispose. This merchant
was known to carry a large sum of money, and as he never reached
his destination inquiries were started. At last his body was found,
with the head battered by blows, hidden in a ditch by the high road,
together with that of the coachman who had driven him. The murderers
were never discovered, but dark rumours concerning the participation of
the youth Rasputin in the deed spread all over the village.
Whether it was the desire to put an end to them, or remorse for an
action of which he knew himself to be guilty, it is difficult to say,
but the fact remains that suddenly Gricha, as he was called, developed
mystical tendencies and took to attending some religious meetings at
which a certain wandering pilgrim used to preach. The latter used to
go from place to place in Siberia predicting the end of the world and
the advent of the dreaded day of Judgment when Christ would once again
appear to demand from humanity an account of its various good or bad
actions. For something like two years Rasputin followed him, until at
last he began himself to assume the character of a lay preacher, to
apply himself to the study of the Scriptures and to try to establish a
sect of his own, the principles of which he exposed to his followers in
these terms:
I am possessed of the Holy Spirit, and it is only through
me that one can be saved. In order to do so, one must unite
oneself with me in body and soul. Everything which proceeds
from me is holy, and cleanses one from sin.
On the strength of this theory, Rasputin declared that he could do
whatever he liked or wished. He surrounded himself with worshippers
of both sexes, who believed that by a close union with him they could
obtain their eternal salvation, together with divine forgiveness for
any sins they might have committed during their previous existence.
Strange tales began to be related concerning the religious assemblies
at which the new prophet presided. But, nevertheless, the whole
village of Pokrovskoie, whither he had returned after his few years’
wanderings, accepted his teachings and submitted to his decrees with
scarcely any exceptions. These unbelievers were looked upon askance
by the majority of the inhabitants, who had succumbed to the “monk’s”
power of fascination and hypnotism. It was with nothing else that
Rasputin kept his “flock” subjugated. He introduced among them the
cult of his own person, together with certain rites which he called
“sacrifice with prayer.”
According to the narratives of some people, who out of curiosity had
attended these ceremonies, this is how they proceeded: In the night,
as soon as the first stars had become visible in the sky, Rasputin,
with the help of his disciples, dragged some wood into a deep ditch dug
for the purpose and lighted a huge bonfire. On a tripod placed in the
midst of this fire was put a cup full of incense and different herbs,
around which people began to dance, holding themselves by the hand all
the while, and singing in a voice which became louder and louder as the
wild exercise became more and more accelerated different hymns which
always ended with the phrase: “Forgive us our sins, O Lord, forgive us
our sins.”
* * * * *
The dance went on until people fell exhausted to the ground and groans
and tears replaced the former singing. The fire died out slowly and,
when darkness had become complete, the voice of Rasputin was heard
calling upon his disciples to proceed to the sacrifice which God
required them to perform. Then followed a scene of general orgy.
* * * * *
As one can see by this tale, the strange practices introduced by the
seer, about whom people were already beginning to talk, differed in
no way from those generally in use among the Khlysty, and, indeed,
Rasputin made no secret of his allegiance to this particular form of
heresy, in which, however, he had introduced a few alterations. For
instance, he did not admit that the souls of his followers could be
saved by a general prayer, but only thanks to one uttered in common
with him, and by a complete submission to his will. Some persons have
alleged that during the early wanderings of Rasputin he had gone as far
as China and Thibet, and there learned some Buddhist practices, but
this is hardly probable, as in that case his instruction would have
been more developed than it was. It is far more likely that during his
travels he had met with exiled sectarians belonging to the different
persecuted religious Russian communities, of which there exist so many
in the whole Oural region, and that they initiated him into some of
their rites and customs. They also made him attentive to the hypnotic
powers, which he most undoubtedly possessed, teaching him how to use
them for his own benefit and advantage.
Very soon Rasputin found that Pokrovskoie was not a field wide enough
for his energies, and he took to travelling, together with a crowd of
disciples that followed him everywhere over the eastern and central
Russian provinces. There he contrived to win every day new adherents
to the doctrines in which free love figured so prominently. Among the
towns where he obtained the most success can be mentioned those of
Kazan, Saratoff, Kieff and Samara.
Concerning his doings in Kazan, people became informed through a letter
which one of his victims addressed to the bishop of that diocese,
Monsignor Feofane, who had shown at the beginning of Rasputin’s career
a considerable interest in him and who had protected him with great
success. In this letter, which later on found its way into the press,
the following was said among other things:
“Your Reverence, I absolutely fail to understand how it is
possible that you continue to this day to know and see Gregory
Rasputin. He is Satan in person and the things which he does
are worthy of those that the Antichrist alone is supposed to
perform, and prove that the latter’s advent is at hand.”
The writer then proceeded to explain that Rasputin had completely
subjugated the mind of her two daughters, one of whom was aged twenty,
whilst the second had not yet attained her sixteenth year.
“One afternoon,” writes this unfortunate mother, “I met in the
street, coming out of a bathhouse, Rasputin, together with my
two girls. One must be a mother to understand the feelings
which overpowered me at this sight. I could find no words to
say, but remained standing motionless and silent before them.
The prophet turned to me and slowly said: ‘Now you may feel at
peace, the day of salvation has dawned for your daughters!’”
Another woman, who had also fallen under the spell of Rasputin, wrote
as follows about him:
“I left my parents, to whom I was tenderly attached, to follow
the prophet. One day when we were travelling together in a
reserved first-class carriage, talking about the salvation of
souls and the means to become a true child of God, he suddenly
got up, approached me, and * * * proceeded to cleanse me of
all my sins. Towards evening I became anxious and asked him:
‘Perhaps what we have been doing to-day was a sin, Gregory
Efimitsch?’ ‘No, my daughter,’ he replied, ‘it was not a sin.
Our affections are a gift from God, which we may use as freely
as we like.’”
Bishop Feofane finally was obliged to recognise the evil which Rasputin
was constantly doing, and he bitterly repented having been taken in
by him and by his hypocrisy. He reproached himself especially for
having given him a letter of recommendation to the famous Father John
of Cronstadt, through whom Rasputin was to become acquainted with
some of the people who were later on to pilot him in the society of
St. Petersburg. The bishop was not a clever man by any means, but he
had been sincere in his admiration for Rasputin, a fact which added
to the consternation that overpowered him when the truth about the
famous sectarian became known to him. He assembled a kind of judicial
court, composed of one bishop, one monk and three well-known and highly
respected civil functionaries, and called upon the prophet to come and
explain himself before this court as to the actions which were imputed
to him. Among these figured his general conduct in regard to the women
who had enrolled themselves in the ranks of his disciples. But somehow
the adventurer succeeded in dispelling the suspicions that had become
attached to his name and conduct, and he explained in a more or less
plausible manner the things which had been told about him. His leanings
towards feminine society, and his invariable custom of bathing with
women, he declared to be quite innocent things, and only a proof of
his desire to show that it was quite possible for human beings to rise
above every kind of carnal temptation.
In spite of this episode, which would have interfered with the career
of any one but Rasputin, the fame of the latter grew with every day
that passed. He established himself at last in the town of Tiumen in
Siberia, where he hired the whole of a large house for himself and some
of his most favoured disciples, and he began to turn his activity into
another and more profitable channel. He established reception hours
every day, when all his followers, admirers and friends could come to
speak with him about any business they liked. Hundreds of people used
to attend those receptions, among them some very influential persons
curious to see and speak with the modern Peter the Hermit, who declared
that he had been called by God to save Holy Russia. In some mysterious
manner he acquired the reputation of having great influence in high
quarters, where (this must be noticed) he was at the time still quite
unknown. Governors fearing dismissal, rapacious functionaries whose
exactions had become too flagrant, as well as business men in quest
of some good “geschaft,” to use the German expression employed before
the war among financial circles in Russia, crowded round him, waiting
sometimes hours for an opportunity to speak with him, and fully
believing in his capacities for obtaining what they required.
Rasputin soon became a kind of business agent and surrounded himself
with a number of secretaries of both sexes, whose occupation consisted
in attending to his correspondence--he could himself hardly read or
write--and in receiving the numerous offerings which were being brought
to him daily. These secretaries, among whom figured a sister of the
Bishop of Saratoff, Warnava, made an immense amount of money themselves
because no one was ever admitted into the presence of Rasputin
without having previously paid dearly for this favour. Very soon they
established a tax in regard to the audiences granted by their master.
Besides this sister of Bishop Warnava, Rasputin had another female
secretary, and they both accompanied him in all his travels, calling
themselves his spiritual sisters. They constituted, so to say, his
bodyguard, and wherever he went, even in St. Petersburg, they never
left off attending him and seeing to all his wants. They were the
channel through which everything had to go, and without their consent
no one was ever admitted into the presence of the “Saint,” as they
already had begun to call him.
Gregory Rasputin very often used to visit Tobolsk, where he was always
received with great ceremony and pomp, as if he had been really the
important personage he believed himself. The policeman in the streets
saluted him as he passed; the carriage in which he drove was escorted
or preceded by a high police functionary, and the governor asked him
to dinner. The same kind of thing used to take place in other Siberian
cities. In one of them the staterooms reserved at the railway station
for any high authority on a visit to the place were thrown open to
him. In another triumphal arches were erected in his honour, while in
a third he was met by deputations in the midst of which could be seen
civil functionaries and religious dignitaries.
How all this happened no one knew or could explain. In what consisted
the fame of Rasputin and what he had done to deserve all these honours
nobody could tell. But fame he had acquired, honours he had obtained,
and where another person gifted with a smaller amount of impudence
than he was possessed of, would have been put into prison or sent to
a madhouse, Gricha had it all his own way, and defied governors and
judges with an equal indifference, sure that none among them would be
daring enough to try to put a stop to his progress or to his avidity.
Most friendly, not to say intimate, relations were established between
Rasputin and Bishop Warnava, especially after the latter’s elevation to
the Episcopal See of Tobolsk. The first sermon which Warnava preached
in that town he dedicated to the wife of Rasputin. One need not say
that the whole clergy of the town and of the diocese trembled before
Rasputin, who did not fail to exact from it large sums of money, which
he extorted, thanks to the promises which he made but never meant in
the least to keep.
During the course of the year 1909 complaints about Rasputin’s
behaviour increased to a considerable extent. He was once more called
before an ecclesiastical court to give explanations in regard to
his general conduct. Among his judges figured again Bishop Feofane.
This time Rasputin could not clear himself of the charges preferred
against him, and he was invited to retire for one year into a monastery
by way of penance. But Rasputin refused to submit to this sentence
and categorically declined to do as he had been told. He gave as a
reason for his disobedience to the commands of his ecclesiastical
superiors that his conscience obliged him to resist because it would be
impossible for his “spiritual sisters and daughters” to accompany him
in his retreat and live together with him in the monastery they wished
him to enter.
At the time this incident took place Rasputin was already living in
St. Petersburg, whither he had repaired on the invitation of some of
his admirers and protectors, who had the opportunity to listen to his
preachings in Kieff and other Russian towns. Among them figured the
Countess Sophy Ignatieff, a woman of high standing, irreproachable
reputation and great influence in some circles of the capital, where
her salon was considered the centre of the conservative orthodox party.
Bishops and priests figured among her daily visitors, and it was among
her habitués that the most important ecclesiastical appointments in the
Empire were discussed. Often it was the candidates whom she honoured
with her protection who were chosen for a bishop’s place or for that
of a superior to one of those rich monasteries the heads of which are
quite personages in the state.
The Countess was already an old woman, widow of a man who had been
murdered during the revolution of 1905, and, incapable of being even
suspected of any frailties of conduct. She was the mother of a large
family, and though by no means brilliant, was yet clever in her way,
with a slight propensity to intrigue. She was extremely devout, with
a strong tendency to exaltation where religious matters came into
question, and was continually lamenting what she called the relaxation
of modern society in those practices of strict church discipline
which Russians belonging to the higher classes have lately taken
to forgetting. She would not have missed attending any of the long
Church services, sometimes so tiring in the Orthodox faith, which are
celebrated on Sundays and many feast days, and she strictly fasted at
prescribed times. Indeed, her whole existence was, as regards its daily
routine, more that of a nun than of a woman of the world. But for all
that, she liked to keep herself well informed as to all that was going
on around her, and politics was her especial hobby.
Among those who frequented her house were Mr. Sabler, then Procurator
of the Holy Synod, together with his future successor, Mr. Loukianoff;
a good sprinkling of ministers--she was distantly related to Mr.
Stolypine, a fact that had considerably added to her importance
during the latter’s lifetime--and a few influential dames belonging
to the immediate circle of friends of the imperial family. All
this constituted a coterie that had gradually assumed perhaps more
importance than it really deserved, but that brought into St.
Petersburg society an element with which it would not have been wise
to trifle and which it was impossible to overlook, for any one caring
to concern himself or herself with the course that public affairs were
taking and assuming.
A few years before the time I am referring to, that is about 1908 or
1909, a good deal of interest was excited not only in St. Petersburg,
but in the whole of Russia, by a monk called Illiodore, who also
preached a new gospel to those willing to listen. There was, however,
about him none of the peculiarities which distinguished Rasputin, and
no one had ever found one word to say against his morals. But he tried
also to found a religion of his own in the sense that he attempted to
develop on a higher scale, and with certain Protestant leanings, the
feelings of fervour of the people. At Saratoff, where he lived, he did
a great deal of good, and he had built there a large church, Orthodox,
of course, which soon became a centre of pilgrimage to which flocked
thousands and thousands of people desirous of hearing him and of
listening to his inflamed speeches. They reminded one of those crusades
that in the Middle Ages had stirred whole nations to rise and rush to
deliver the Holy Sepulchre from the yoke of the infidels. He was far
more a Peter the Hermit than Rasputin, and had, moreover, education,
which the other lacked.
But ecclesiastical authorities in St. Petersburg did not approve of
his teachings, and he soon came into conflict with them, together
with the Bishop of Saratoff, who had all along supported him and who
considered him as being really a good and pious man. This conflict
led to a quarrel, the result of which was that Illiodore was confined
in a monastery, whence, however, with the help of his disciples and
adherents, he contrived to make his escape. There was also a whole
series of lawsuits, into the details of which it is useless to enter
here. At last the monk was unfrocked for rebellion to his superiors,
by a decree issued from the Holy Synod, and compelled to take back his
secular name of Trufanoff. He became fearful of further annoyance and
managed to get hold of a false passport, with the help of which he made
his way into Norway, where we shall find him presently mixed up in a
most extraordinary adventure with which Rasputin was concerned. But
before all this had occurred there was a brief period when Illiodore
was quite an important personage in Russia, and the salons of the
Countess Ignatieff and of other ultra-devout ladies used to see a lot
of him whenever he happened to be in St. Petersburg. These feminine
listeners were very fond of him, and did their best to spread his
reputation all over the capital.
During Rasputin’s wanderings he had come across Illiodore at Saratoff,
and the latter, like so many others before and after him, had succumbed
to the hypnotic spell which “Gricha” was casting around him. He had
believed him to be a real servant of God, and he had engaged him
to come to St. Petersburg and to preach there before some of the
people who had already listened to his (Illiodore’s) sermons. He
had introduced him to the celebrated Father John of Cronstadt, this
saintly priest who was so famous for his virtues and his good deeds.
And, strange though this may appear, Father John also had been struck
by Rasputin’s eloquence and had believed him to be really inspired
by the Lord. In order to explain the state of mind prevalent at the
time among the orthodox clergy one must say that the clergy, or at
least some of their important members, were trying to bring about a
revival of religious fervour in the Orthodox Church, especially among
persons belonging to the upper classes, who had, during the last
twenty-five years or so, become more than indifferent in regard to
spiritual matters, and who had considered religion more a question of
“convenience” than anything else. Since the religious censorship had
been suppressed and books to any amount treating of every conceivable
subject had been allowed to circulate freely in the country, the former
attachment to the Mother Church had waxed fainter and fainter, until
this Church appeared in the eyes of many as simply a question of good
breeding, to which it was necessary to conform when one belonged to
good society, but which, beyond this, was treated entirely as a matter
devoid of importance.
In view of this fact, those Prelates and Dignitaries who lamented over
this state of things were not sorry to find that there were still in
the world people capable of arousing in the minds of others an interest
in religion and religious matters. This explains partly why the craze
which seized some persons in regard to Illiodore at first, and to
Rasputin later on, was not viewed with the dissatisfaction one might
have expected by the Russian ecclesiastical authorities. They argued
that surely it was better for people to pray in the way these two
so-called “saints” told them to do than not to pray at all. It was only
much later, after Illiodore’s rebellion to the orders of his superiors,
and Rasputin’s ever-growing personal influence had begun to alarm them,
that there were found some bishops in Russia who made a stand against
both, until at last a catastrophe removed these two men from the scene
of their previous labours and successes.
Rasputin and Illiodore were in time to become mortal enemies, but at
first a great friendship united them, and when Rasputin was sentenced
to enter a convent in the manner already related, Illiodore took up his
cause most warmly and telegraphed to one of the former’s admirers, an
ecclesiastic of high rank in St. Petersburg, in the following terms:
“Neither Bishop Feofane nor Archimandrite Serge has behaved fairly in
regard to the ‘Blessed Grigory.’” Illiodore’s efforts, however, did
not avail and Rasputin was ordered to leave the capital immediately.
But instead of being compelled to enter the convent whither they had
wished to confine him at first, he was allowed to return to his native
village of Pokrovskoie. Before doing so he bethought himself of calling
on his former patron, Bishop Feofane, but the latter met him with the
exclamation, “Don’t approach me, Satan! Thou art not a blessed thing,
but only a vulgar deceiver!” At Pokrovskoie Rasputin surrounded himself
with twelve sisters, of whom the oldest was barely twenty-nine years
of age. They all lived in his house, which was extremely well arranged
and richly furnished. Rasputin’s wife, together with her children,
was also there and occupied a suite of five rooms, whilst each of the
sisters had a separate room to herself.
People wondered that the woman who ought to have been the sole mistress
in the place had consented to share her authority with all these
girls, and some even thought that she was just as bad as her husband.
In reality, the “Prophet’s” consort had done all that she could to
persuade her husband to give up the “mission” which he declared had
been imposed upon him by the Almighty and to return to his former life
of a simple peasant. Her efforts had remained fruitless, and Rasputin
had replied to all her entreaties that his past existence had come
forever to an end, and that he knew his star was about to shine in a
wonderful way within a short time. He commanded his wife not to attempt
to interfere in the matter of his own personal relations with the
“Sisters” living under their roof. Though she tried to submit to his
will, yet there were occasions when terrible scenes occurred between
husband and wife. Then the latter would attack violently the girls,
whom she accused of all kinds of dreadful things, and would then fall
on the ground in attacks of strong hysterics, screaming so dreadfully
that people heard her from the street. But tears and submission were
equally of no avail and Rasputin did not trouble about his wife’s
rage or grief any more than he had troubled in general with any other
impediment he had found in his way. As concerns the kind of life which
the “Sisters” were leading at Pokrovskoie this is how one of them
describes it:
It is now already six months since I am here, living in a kind
of nightmare. I do not know to this day whether the “Blessed”
Gricha is a saint or the greatest sinner the earth has ever
known. I cannot find a quiet place in this miserable village. I
would like to run away, to return to St. Petersburg, but I dare
not do so. I am so afraid, so terribly afraid of the “Blessed”
one. His large, grey, piercing eyes crush me, enter into my
very soul and absolutely terrify me. At a distance of 5,000
versts I feel his presence near me. I feel that he has got
extraordinary powers, that he can do everything that he wishes
with me.
For two whole years Rasputin was not allowed to show himself in the
Russian capital, but the influential friends he had there never left
off trying to get the decree of banishment rescinded. Among others, the
Archbishop of Saratoff, Hermogene, and Illiodore worked most actively
in his favour, and the latter in one of his sermons did not hesitate
to call Rasputin the “greatest saint which the modern Russian Church
had ever known.” At last the efforts of his friends proved successful
and Rasputin, toward the end of the year 1912, reappeared in St.
Petersburg, where this time his progress was far more rapid than it
had been formerly, and here his reputation of a latter-day saint grew
with every hour, until at last he came to be looked upon as a real
manifestation of the Divinity upon earth.
It was about that time that he was seen more frequently at Tsarskoie
Selo, where the poor Empress was eating her heart away in anxiety over
the health of her only son, the little heir to the throne, whose days
seemed to be numbered. Rasputin, who had been introduced to her as a
pious, good man, whose prayers had already worked miracles, was very
quickly able to influence her in the sense that he persuaded her that
the small Grand Duke could only be cured if constant prayers were said
for him by people who were agreeable to the Lord. It is not to be
denied that the pseudo-saint had cultivated to a considerable extent
the science of hypnotism and that he used it in regard to the consort
of the sovereign in the sense that she grew really to believe that the
presence of the “Prophet” by the side of her sick child might cure the
latter. There was nothing else in their relations to each other, which
remained always, in spite of all that has been said, purely official
ones.
Rasputin was far too clever ever to say one word capable of offending
the Empress, whose proud temperament would never have forgiven him any
familiarity had he dared to venture upon it. Whenever he was in her
presence he kept a most humble attitude, and certainly never discussed
with her any matters of state and never dared entertain her with aught
else than religious questions. He was far less guarded with regard to
what he told the Emperor, with whom it is unfortunately true that he
sometimes allowed himself remarks he would have done better to keep
to himself. But the Czar never looked upon him in any other light
than in that of a jester whose sayings were absolutely devoid of any
importance whatever, but who could amuse him at times by the daring
manner in which he would touch upon things and criticise people whose
names no one else would ever have dared to mention in a disparaging
tone before Nicholas II. But between that and the possession of any
real power and influence, there was an abyss which, unfortunately, in
view of the turn that events were to take, no one noticed among all
those who lamented over the almost constant presence of Rasputin at
Tsarskoie Selo.
All that I have said, however, refers only to the Emperor and Empress.
In regard to some people who surrounded them it was not quite the
same. It is certain that from the first day that the “Prophet” was
introduced at Tsarskoie Selo some intriguing persons applied themselves
to make use of him for their own special benefit and advantage, and
tried to create around him a legend that had hardly anything in common
with the real truth. It is useless to mention the names of these
people, whose influence it must be hoped is now at an end. But it is
impossible not to speak of their activity in regard to the spreading of
these rumours which attributed to Rasputin an importance he was never
really in possession of. This caused no small damage to the prestige
of the dynasty. Rasputin ought to have been considered for what he
was--that is, a kind of jester, “un fou du roi,” who, like Chicot in
Dumas’ famous novels, allowed himself to say all that he thought to
his sovereign and whose words or actions no one could take seriously
into account. Instead of this some ambitious men and women, mostly
belonging to that special class of Tchinovnikis or civil functionaries
that has always been the curse of Russia and that, happily, is losing
every day something of its former power, profited by the circumstance
that the solitary existence led by the Imperial Court in its various
residences did not allow any outside rumours to penetrate to the ears
of the rulers of the country. They intentionally transformed Rasputin
into a kind of _deus ex machina_, whose hand could be traced in every
event of importance which occurred and who could at will remove and
appoint Ministers, generals, ladies in waiting, court officials and
at last induce the Czar himself to deprive his uncle, the Grand Duke
Nicholas, of the supreme command of the army and to assume it himself.
These different tales were repeated and carried about all over Russia
with alacrity, and all the enemies of the reigning house rejoiced in
hearing them. They were untrue nine times out of ten, and generally
invented for a purpose. Rasputin did not influence the Czar, who is
far too intelligent to have ever allowed this uneducated peasant to
guide or to advise him, but unfortunately he influenced other people,
who really believed him to be all powerful. A kind of camarilla formed
itself around Rasputin that clung to him and used him for its own
purposes, and that went about saying that he was the only man in the
whole of Russia capable of obtaining what one wanted, provided it
pleased him to do so. One declared that he could persuade the Empress,
always trembling for the health of her only son, to discuss with
her imperial spouse any subject that he might suggest. In reality no
such thing ever took place. Alexandra Feodorovna always kept Rasputin
at arms’ length, and for one thing had far too much faith in his
absolute disinterestedness even to imagine offering him any reward
or gratification. But it is a fact that he was often called by her
to pray at the bedside of the little boy, who represented the best
hope of Russia. This circumstance was cleverly exploited. No one was
ever present at his interviews with the Czar or with the Empress; it
was therefore easy for him to say what he liked about them, certain
that no one could ever contradict him, with the exception of the
interested persons themselves, and these could never get to hear or
to learn anything about the wild tales which it pleased him, together
with his friends, to put into circulation regarding the position which
he occupied at the court. Thanks to his persuasive powers and to the
undoubted magnetic force he was possessed of, he contrived to imbue
even earnest and serious people with the conviction that he was at
times the echo of the voices of those placed far above him, and that
they had called upon him to say to others what it embarrassed them to
mention themselves.
In Russia, as a general rule, the people in power were all cringing
before the Czar, whom they never dared to contradict. There were at
the time I am writing about some Ministers who believed, or affected
to believe, in all the extraordinary tales which it pleased Rasputin
to repeat, and who thought it useful to follow the indications which
it pleased him to give to them. He was only too delighted to be
considered the most powerful personage in the whole of the Russian
Empire. He helped as much as he could to accredit all the legends going
about among the public in regard to his own person, and he imagined
that the best way to add to his reputation as a man who did not care
for the opinions of the world was to treat this world with disdain and
with contempt, and to transform into his humble slaves ladies belonging
to the highest social ranks, just as he had transformed into his
hand-maidens the peasant girls who had fallen under his spell.
That he magnetised most of the people with whom he prayed seems but too
true. Perhaps they did not notice it, and perhaps this was done with
the consent of those on whom he exercised his hypnotic strength--it
is difficult to know exactly--but that his prayer meetings were the
scene of spiritist and magnetic experiences all who have ever been
present agree in saying. He made no secret about the fact, and openly
acknowledged the use which he made of the state of trance in which he
liked to throw his disciples, especially those belonging to the weaker
sex. He practiced to the full all the customs of the “Khlystys,” but he
added to them a cunning such as is but rarely found in a human being,
and a rough knowledge of human nature which gave him the facility to
exploit the passions of the many vile people who thought that he was
their instrument while in reality it was they who were playing fiddle
to his tune.
After his return to St. Petersburg he applied himself to the task of
setting aside all his former patrons, such as Illiodore, against whom
he contrived to irritate several important members of the Holy Synod
with false reports about remarks which the now disgraced monk was
supposed to have made. He contrived also to bring about the exile of
the Archbishop of Saratoff, Hermogene, from whom he feared disagreeable
revelations concerning his own past life and certain episodes connected
with the days when he had preached his so-called doctrine in the
town and government of Saratoff. On the other hand, he toadied to
other ecclesiastical dignitaries eager for promotion, and in that way
obtained their support in the Synod. Very soon he turned his thoughts
to more practical subjects than religious fervour or religious reforms,
and sought the society of business and financial people. Among these he
soon obtained the opportunities he longed for and established a kind of
large shop or concern where everything in the world could be bought or
sold, from a pound of butter to a minister’s portfolio.
It is no exaggeration to say that there was a time when nothing of
importance ever occurred in the political, social and administrative
life of the Russian capital that was not attributed to Rasputin, and
the result of this was that there crowded about him all kinds of
dark personalities, who hoped, thanks to his support and influence,
to obtain this or that favour. Everything interested him, everything
attracted his attention; railway concessions, bank emissions, stock
exchange speculations, purchase of properties, acquisition of shares
in industrial concerns, arranging of loans for persons in need of
them--nothing seemed too small or too important for his activity. He
liked to think himself necessary to all these high-born people, whom
he compelled to wait for hours in his ante-chambers, just as if he
had been a sovereign. And for every favour he granted, for every word
which he promised to say, he exacted payment in the shape of a pound of
flesh, which consisted, according to circumstances, in a more or less
important commission.
Ministers and functionaries feared him. They knew that he could do
them an infinitude of harm by causing to be circulated against them
rumours of a damaging character, the result of which would have
undoubtedly been their disgrace or removal to another sphere of action
very probably not at all desirable. He was credited for an infinitude
of things he had never thought of performing, and he was supposed
to have been privy to all kinds of governmental changes that either
pleased or displeased those who criticised them. As time went on one
accused him among other things of the dismissal of the procurator of
the Holy Synod, Mr. Loukianoff, with whom he had for a long period
been at daggers drawn and who had openly expressed his disapproval
of the “Prophet” and his disbelief in his miraculous powers. The
elevation of the Archimandrite Warnava, one of his warmest patrons in
the past, to the Episcopal See of Tobolsk was also said to have been
Rasputin’s work, and the public persisted so entirely in seeing his
hand everywhere and in everything that it was even rumoured that it
was he who was answerable for the decision of the censor forbidding
the representation of a drama by the celebrated author Leonide
Andreieff called, “Anathema,” on the eve of the day when it was to be
produced--a decision which caused an immense sensation in the society
of the Russian capital.
It was natural that among the many people who crowded around Rasputin
some secret police agents found their way. One of these who was
later to become the hero of more than one scandal, a certain Mr.
Manassevitsch Maniuloff, bethought himself of becoming the mentor
of the “Prophet.” He was in close relation with Count Witte, always
eager for his own return to power, and desirous of overturning every
individual in possession of the posts which he had formerly occupied
himself. The two men tried to imbue Rasputin with the idea that he
had great political talents, and that it was a pity he had not yet
turned these into account for the good and the welfare of Holy Russia.
Rasputin did not believe in the sincerity of his newly acquired
advisers, but he was shrewd enough to see that their help would be of
wonderful value to him. He willingly entered into the plans which they
unfolded to him between two glasses of brandy or two cups of champagne
as the occasion presented itself. Count Witte was very well aware of
all the secret influences which were paramount at Tsarskoie Selo, and
he contrived to turn them in favour of Rasputin, suggesting at the same
time to the latter the things which he ought to say, when in presence
of certain personages. It was easy to throw in a word now and then,
either in the shape of a jest, or of a remark uttered inadvertently and
unintentionally, but yet sure to bear fruit in the future. The great
thing was to give to Rasputin the idea that he was a personage of
importance. This was not a very difficult matter considering the very
high opinion which he already had of his own capacities, coupled with
his set resolution to make the most hay whilst the sun was shining, and
never to miss an opportunity of asserting his personality no matter on
what occasion or with what purpose.
The Balkan war gave Rasputin a golden opportunity for exercising his
various talents, and it is pretty certain that he made at the time
strenuous efforts in favour of peace, repeating to whomsoever wished
to hear him that he had had visions which predicted that the greatest
calamities were awaiting Russia, if she mixed herself up in it. This
feeling was shared by a numerous party, and the sovereign himself
was the most resolute adversary of any military intervention in this
unfortunate affair. It is likely that even without Rasputin Russia
would not have drawn her sword either for Bulgaria or for Serbia, but
nevertheless it pleased his friends to say that without him this would
have most undoubtedly occurred. And it also pleased him to assert
that on this occasion he had proved to be the saviour of his native
land. We shall see him repeat this legend with great relish during a
conversation which I had with him personally just before the breaking
out of the present war.
There was also another incident in which Rasputin most certainly was
implicated. This was the dismissal of Mr. Kokovtsoff, then Prime
Minister and President of the Council, followed by the appointment
in his place of old and tottering Mr. Goremykine, to whom no one in
the whole of Russia had ever given a thought as a possible candidate
for this difficult post. Count Witte was the personal enemy of Mr.
Kokovtsoff, whom he had never forgiven for his so-called treason in
regard to himself, and he never missed any opportunity to attack him
in the Council of State, of which they were both members, criticising
his financial administration and making fun of the splendid budgets
which were regularly presented to the Duma. These Witte declared to be
entirely artificial, reposing on a clever manipulation of figures. In
some ways it was easy to find fault with Mr. Kokovtsoff, whose name had
been mixed up far too much for the good of his personal reputation in
all kind of financial transactions and Stock Exchange operations. But,
then, the same thing had been said about Count Witte with perhaps even
more reason than about Mr. Kokovtsoff, whose wife, at least, had never
been suspected of any manipulations with her banking account. Indeed,
no finance minister in Russia had escaped accusations of the kind from
his detractors or his adversaries, and it had never interfered with
their administrative careers nor prevented them from sleeping soundly.
So far, so well; but then this was more the work of events as they
had unfolded themselves naturally than the merit of Rasputin; yet he
was openly congratulated by his friends, or so-called ones, on the
success which he had obtained in driving Mr. Kokovtsoff away. The
ultra-orthodox party which hailed the advent to power of one of its
members--Mr. Goremykine having always been considered as one of the
pillars of the conservative faction--not only cheered the “Prophet”
with enthusiasm but also started to proclaim anew his genius and clear
understanding of the needs of the Russian people. Thus a ministerial
crisis culminated in the apotheosis of a man whose only appreciation
of the qualities and of the duties of a Minister consisted in the
knowledge of that Minister’s existence as a public functionary.