CHAPTER VI

It was perhaps a fortunate thing for Rasputin that he was not in St.

Petersburg when Germany attacked us so unexpectedly. It is quite

probable that if he had found himself in the capital at the time he

would have intrigued in so many ways that he might have put even the

Sovereign in an embarrassing position, for any hesitations in the

decisions of the Government would have been attributed to the influence

of the “Prophet.” At this time of national crisis, it certainly would

have been a misfortune if anything had occurred likely to endanger

the prestige of the dynasty. But in regard to Rasputin himself, it is

likely that his absence delayed the conspiracy which resulted in his

death, as he was forgotten for the moment, so intensely was public

opinion preoccupied with the grave events that were taking place.

Later on, after the disaster of Tannenberg, the friends of the

“Prophet,” in order to win back for him some popularity, spread the

rumour that he had from his distant Pokrovskoie written to one of his

warmest patronesses, Madame W, that he had had a vision during which

it had been revealed to him that the Russian armies were to march

immediately upon eastern Prussia, where it would be possible to deal

a decisive blow at the enemy, and to do so with all their strength.

Now this is precisely what was not done, owing to the military

misconception of the Russian General Staff, which for political reasons

started to proceed to the conquest of Galicia, that could have been

delayed with advantage until after the Prussian monster, if not killed,

had been at least seriously injured.

The enemies of the Grand Duke Nicholas, of whom there were plenty,

seized hold of this rumour, and rallied themselves round Rasputin,

declaring that once more God had intervened in favour of Holy Russia,

in blessing it with a prophet whose clear glance and visions could

be relied upon far better than the strategical combinations of the

Grand Duke that had proved such a complete failure. The Grand Duke was

accused of having despatched two army corps into the Mazurian region

without having taken sufficient precautions to insure their safety,

and it was said that the only one who had seen clearly the disaster

which had overtaken these corps had been Rasputin, and that it had been

revealed to him direct from Heaven even before it had taken place.

All this was great nonsense, of course, but nevertheless it did a

considerable amount of harm. One must not lose sight of one fact when

one judges the whole history of the impostor who for so many years

contrived to occupy with his personality the attention of the Russian

public, and that is that his sermons and utterances appealed to that

mystical side of the Slav character which in all hours of great

national crises and misfortunes asserts itself a manner which to the

Occidental mind seems quite incomprehensible. It is sufficient to have

looked upon the crowds kneeling in the streets of St. Petersburg, and

of Moscow, during those eventful August days which saw the breaking

out of the catastrophe, to become persuaded of the fact that they

reckoned more on God’s intervention on their behalf than on the

efficacy of any guns or soldiers to insure a victory for the Russian

arms.

Rasputin, for a short period, became once more a national hero, at

least in the eyes of the select circle that had first brought him

prominently before the public, and they began to say among this circle

that until one followed his directions and gave oneself up entirely

to the service of God in the manner it pleased him to recommend, the

campaign that had just begun would never be won. For other people, too,

the return of the “Prophet” to Petrograd, as St. Petersburg had been

rechristened, was also a boon. All the speculators, army purveyors and

persons interested in army contracts awaited him with an impatience

which surpassed every description, and they surrounded him at once and

laid siege, not so much to his person as to the influence which he was

supposed to possess.

There are innumerable anecdotes about this agitated period in the

career of Rasputin, each more amusing and each more incredible than the

others. I shall here quote a few:

A Danish gentleman had arrived in Petrograd from Copenhagen with a load

of medicines and different pharmaceutical products which he wanted to

sell to the Red Cross. He brought excellent credentials with him, and

he imagined that the business would be a relatively easy one. But to

his surprise he found that this was not at all the case. Though the

prices which he asked for his goods were not at all high compared with

those current in the Russian capital, he could not get rid of them,

and he was always put off until the next day. At last he became quite

discouraged and was already thinking of returning home when he met in

the lounge of the principal hotel of Petrograd (famed for the financial

transactions which were regularly taking place under its roof) a Jew

who, seeing him looking worried and annoyed, asked what was the matter.

The Dane then related his story, adding that he failed to understand

why at a time when the things which he had brought with him were in

great demand he could not sell them, though he had lowered his prices

to a point below which it was quite impossible for him to go. The Jew

looked at him for some minutes, then asked him whether he would feel

inclined, if he could help him to dispose of his wares at a profit, to

give a large commission in exchange. The Dane of course assented, and

the Jew took him the next day to Rasputin, to whom he told a long story

of which the seller of the articles in question understood nothing at

all, but which culminated in the “Prophet” scribbling something in

pencil on a dirty scrap of paper, and handing it to his visitors. The

same afternoon the two men went to the head offices of the Red Cross,

accompanied by another gentleman, who introduced himself as Rasputin’s

secretary. To the intense surprise of the Dane, the medicines which he

had been trying uselessly to sell for three weeks were at once accepted

on the producing of the “Prophet’s” note, and sold at such an enormous

profit that he remained absolutely astounded. The contract was signed

there and then, and a cheque handed to the happy seller. His two

companions then accompanied him to the bank, where he handed over to

them their share in the transaction, Rasputin’s representative taking

the lion’s share of course, but whether for his master or for himself

has never been ascertained.

Another example is still more typical. There existed in Petrograd a

German who had lived there for years, and who had acquired considerable

property, among other things several houses in Petrograd, bringing

him a large income. Very soon after the breaking out of the war the

properties belonging to the enemy were sequestrated, and German

subjects sent away from the capital to live out the war in some

northern government. The same fate overtook our friend. But he was a

man of resources, and he immediately proceeded to pay a visit to Mr.

Manassevitsch-Maniuloff. The latter was about the last man capable

of allowing such a wonderful chance to escape him. How he managed he

did not say, and the German never cared to learn, but he was allowed

not only to remain in Petrograd, but also to sell his houses to a

personage occupying such a very important administrative position that

no one cared or dared to inquire of him whether he paid into the bank,

as he ought to have done, the price of his acquisitions, or whether

he gave it in the shape of a cheque on a foreign bank to the seller.

And to crown the whole matter, the German in question was allowed

to leave Russia with all due honours, and received the position of

official buyer of different military goods for the Russian government

in Scandinavia. He soon managed to indemnify himself to the full for

the loss he had incurred in parting from his property for a mere song,

and in paying the three hundred thousand rubles commission which Mr.

Manassevitsch-Maniuloff and Rasputin had together obtained from him.

Such things were of daily occurrence, known to the general public, and

of course commented upon in terms which were anything but favourable to

the “Prophet.” The latter, however, did not mind and seemed absolutely

convinced of immunity in regard to the different transactions in

which he indulged and which increased in importance every day. He

began to give his special attention to the interesting matter of army

contracts, and there he found a very rich field to explore. All the

different agents and intermediaries who constituted such a notable

element in Petrograd crowded around him, offering him their services,

or imploring his help in all kinds of shady business, out of which no

one with the exception of Rasputin himself got a single penny. Thanks

to him, bad cartridges were delivered to the army; rotten meat, or meat

at a fabulous price, was sold for its wants, and not only sold once,

but several times over. No matter how strange this last assertion may

sound, it is absolutely true. If at the beginning of the war people

were afraid to indulge in that kind of sport, they became adepts at

it later on, and the only art which was practised in regard to it

consisted in bribing an official not to put the Government stamp on

the goods which were delivered to the Red Cross or to the Commissariat

Department, an omission which allowed them to be returned to those who

had already once disposed of them, and thus become the object of a new

transaction, perhaps even more profitable than the first.

In regard to important matters, Rasputin did not disdain occasionally

to play the spy. I remember a curious instance which during the first

five or six weeks of the war greatly amused those who became aware of

it. The whole incident is most characteristic of the business methods

then in vogue in Russia, which are at present dying out fast, thanks

to the co-operation of the English and French authorities with the

Russians in all questions connected with army contracts.

When war was declared the military administration proceeded to

requisition numerous things which it required in the way of war

material. Among others were sand bags for the trenches. Now there

happened to be a Jew in Petrograd who had about 50,000 of them. He

did not care to declare them as he ought to have done, knowing very

well that he was not in a position to obtain from the Commissariat

Department the price which he wanted. He therefore sold them to another

Jew, who gave him a certain sum on account, stipulating that he would

take the delivery of the goods in the course of the next week or so.

But in the meanwhile prices went down, and the unlucky buyer found that

he had indeed made about as bad a bargain as possible. While he was

thus lamenting his bad luck, he happened to meet one of the secretaries

of Rasputin to whom he related his misfortune.

“Is this troubling you?” exclaimed the latter. “This is nothing, and

we shall soon set it all right.” He took him to the “Prophet,” where

the trio came to the following arrangement: The Jew was to go forthwith

to the Commissariat Department and declare that he had so many thousand

sand bags to sell. Rasputin was to speak in his favour and to do his

best to obtain the highest prices possible. Rasputin’s secretary

proceeded then to denounce the first Jew, who was the real owner of

the bags, as having neglected to declare their existence. Immediately

a requisition was made in the latter’s store, where the bags of course

were found. Then the Jew who had given an account of them interfered,

and said that they were his property, and that he had fulfilled all

the formalities required by the law in regard to them. He forthwith

proceeded to take possession of the bags, laughing in the face of their

real owner whom he defied to claim the balance still due to him, well

knowing that the unfortunate victim could do nothing, because if he

had tried to complain he would inevitably have been condemned to pay a

heavy fine and to be imprisoned.

Then again there was a story of railway trucks in which the “Prophet”

also was mixed up in some unaccountable way. Some Jews, protected

no one knows to this day by whom or in what way, had obtained some

contracts from the Government for different goods which were to be

delivered to the army, together with the necessary numbers of railway

trucks to carry them to the front. They immediately proceeded to sell

these contracts at a fair price, though not an exaggerated one, to

other people, but with the clause that these other people were to take

upon themselves the care of forwarding the goods to their destination.

And they kept for their own use and benefit the trucks which had been

allotted to them, hiring them afterward to whoever wanted to have them

for as much money as they could get. One Jew, a certain Mr. Bernstein,

thus obtained control over more than 500 trucks, out of which he drew

during six months an income amounting to something like 250,000 rubles

a month. And this occurred while everybody was complaining of the

impossibility of forwarding anything anywhere, owing to the total lack

of railway material. It is related that in this little business, too,

Rasputin was mixed up, and that without him the military contracts

which the heroes of the anecdote I have just related obtained would

never have been granted.

These stories, scandalous though they were, are well known. There were

others of which it is hardly possible to speak in a language fit for

a drawing room. Such, for instance, is the sad case of a young girl,

the daughter of a rich merchant in Moscow, who travelled all the way

to Petrograd, to see the “Prophet” and implore his prayers for her

fiancé who was at the front. Rasputin received her, and forthwith

proceeded to tell her that the young man for whom she felt so anxious

was doomed and could be saved only if she consented to unite herself

with him, Rasputin, and to be cleansed by him of all her sins. The poor

child, frightened out of her wits and fascinated by the terror which

the dreadful creature inspired in his victims, allowed him to do what

he liked with her. But she afterward became mad, on hearing that in

spite of her sacrifices her lover had fallen at Tannenburg, during the

terrible battle which took place in that locality.

All these things were whispered from ear to ear with horror and

disgust, but they did not harm in the least the impostor who was

pursuing his career of wickedness, deceit and crime. As time went on,

he got more and more insolent, more and more overbearing, so that at

last even some of his former protectors found that he was going rather

too far, and he was no longer received at Tsarskoie Selo with the same

kindness that had been shown to him previously.

He did not care for this, nor did those with whom he was working care

either. They were all unscrupulous, daring people, determined to make

hay while the sun was shining, and careless as to what others might

think of them. Count Witte, who saw further and understood better than

most of the public the hopeless muddle into which the administration

had fallen, felt sure that sooner or later the country would demand an

explanation for the many mistakes and errors which had been committed,

and that a change in the Government was bound to take place. He fully

meant this change to affect his own prospects in so far that it would

put him again at the head of affairs, and he was helping Rasputin as

hard and as well as he could to discredit the Cabinet then in power,

and to show it up as being thoroughly incapable of managing the country

at this moment of grave crisis.

It was about that time that the Massayedoff incident took place, about

which such a lot has been written, and which deserves a passing

mention in this record. Massayedoff was a colonel who had already given

some reasons to be talked about for misdeeds of a more or less grave

nature. General Rennenkampf, when he had received the command of the

Kovno Army Corps, had energetically protested against his appointment

on his staff, but headquarters ignored his representations and

maintained the colonel in his functions.

After the disaster of Tannenberg and the loss of two Russian army

corps in the swamps of the Mazurian region, it was discovered that

some spying of a grave nature had been going on and that the principal

spy was Colonel Massayedoff, who had kept the enemy informed of the

movements of the Russian troops. He was tried and condemned to death,

which sentence was duly executed. Together with him several individuals

compromised in the same affair, mostly Jews connected with questions of

army purveyance, were also hanged. Among these last was a man called

Friedmann, who had been one of the parasites who were perpetually

crowding around Rasputin. The latter, however, when asked to interfere

in his favour had refused to do so, but whether this was due to the

desire to get rid of a compromising accomplice or the dread of being

mixed up himself in a dangerous story, it is difficult to say or to

guess. But others talked, if the “Prophet” himself remained silent, and

soon it began to be whispered that he was also, if not exactly a German

agent, at least a partisan of a separate peace with Germany.

There certainly exist indications that such was the case. In spite of

the strong character upon which Rasputin prided himself, it is hardly

possible that he could have escaped the influence of the people who

were constantly hanging about him, and who were all partial to Germany.

This was due to the fact that they hoped, if the latter Power triumphed

and vanquished the Russians, to obtain from the German Government

substantial rewards for their fidelity, in the shape of some kind of

army contracts, for the time that the Prussian troops remained in

occupation of some Russian provinces. It is quite remarkable that while

the nation in general was all for the continuation of the war, and

would have considered it a shame to listen to peace proposals without

consent of its Allies, commercial and industrial people were always

talking about peace to whomever would listen. And Rasputin had now more

to do with that class of individuals than with the nation.

It was at that time that he suddenly imagined himself to be endowed

with perspicacity in regard to military matters, and that he attempted

to criticise the operations at the front, and especially the leadership

of the Grand Duke Nicholas, whom he hated with all the ferocity for

which his character had become famous. He was known to be absolutely

without any mercy for those whom he disliked. He disliked none more

than the Grand Duke, who had, on one occasion when the “Prophet”

had tried to discuss with him the conduct of the campaign and even

volunteered to arrive at headquarters, declared that if he ever

ventured to put in an appearance there he would have him hanged

immediately from the first tree he could find. Rasputin was prudent,

and moreover he knew that Nicolas Nicolaievitsch was a man who always

kept his word, so he thought it wise to leave a wide berth between

him and the irascible commander-in-chief. But he applied himself with

considerable perseverance to undermine the position of the latter,

and especially to render him unpopular among the people, accusing him

openly of mismanagement in regard to military matters and of want of

foresight in his strategical dispositions.

In the beginning this did not succeed, partly because the staff did

not allow any news of importance to leak out from the front and partly

because the country believed so firmly in a victory over the Prussians

that it was very hard to shake its confidence in the Grand Duke’s

abilities. The early successes of the first Galician campaign had

strengthened this confidence, and no one in Petrograd during the first

months of the year 1915 ever gave a thought to the possibility of our

troops being compelled to retreat before the enemy, and no one foresaw

the fall of Warsaw and of the other fortresses on the western frontier.

Rasputin, however, knew more than the public at large. He had his

spies everywhere, who faithfully reported to him everything that was

occurring in the army. He was well aware that the army was suffering

from an almost complete lack of ammunition, and that it would never be

able to hold against any offensive combined with artillery attacks on

the part of the enemy. This knowledge, which he carefully refrained

from sharing with any one, enabled him to indulge in prophesies of

a more or less tragic nature, the sense of which was that God was

punishing Russia for its sins, and that with an unbeliever like the

commander-in-chief at the head of its armies it was surely marching

towards a defeat which would be sent by God as a warning never to

forget the paths of Providence, and never to disdain the advice of the

one prophet that He had sent in His mercy to save Russia from all the

calamities which were threatening her.

He used to speak in that way everywhere and to everybody, even at

Tsarskoie Selo, not to the Emperor and Empress, of course, but to all

those persons surrounding them who were favourably inclined toward

himself and likely to spread abroad the prophecies which he kept

pouring into their ears.

But, in spite of all this, he was not quite so successful as he had

hoped, because owing to the ignorance which prevailed as to the real

state of things in the army, few people believed him, and fewer still

would own that they did so. Once more Rasputin’s star was beginning to

wane, and even the Empress began to think him very wearisome with his

perpetual forebodings concerning misfortunes which seemed to be far

away from the limits of possibility.

Then suddenly things changed. Mackensen began his march forward, and

the Grand Duke, with his heart full of rage and despair, was compelled,

owing to the mistakes, the negligence and the crimes of others, to make

the best out of a very bad job, and to try at least to save the army

confided to his care. Even if he had to sacrifice towns and fortresses,

he had declared he would never, and under no conditions whatever,

surrender to the enemy. The great retreat began, and proved to be one

of the most glorious pages in the history of Russian warfare, a deed

the gallantry of which will live in the military annals of the world

as almost as grand a one as the famous retreat of Xenophon and his

10,000 warriors. Russia appreciated its importance; the world admired

it; the Czar, though he may have shed bitter tears over its necessity,

felt grateful for the talent which was displayed in such a terrible

emergency; but people in Petrograd began looking for those upon whom

they could fix the responsibility for this awful disappointment which

had overtaken them. This was the moment for which Rasputin had been

waiting with the patience of the serpent watching for its prey, and

of which he hastened to make use with the infernal cunning he usually

displayed in all the evil deeds with which he was familiar.

The secret police agents, who were working with him, and thanks to whom

he had been enabled to make the enormous profits that had added so many

millions to his fortune since the war had started, began to spread the

rumour that the Grand Duke was plotting against the Czar, and wanted

to usurp the latter’s throne and crown, out of fear of being called

upon to render an account of his activity during the nine months of the

campaign. Though it was quite evident that the responsibility for the

lamentable want of organisation which had culminated in the momentary

defeat of the Russian troops lay upon the War Office and the Artillery

and Commissariat Departments, and though the War Minister, General

Soukhomlinoff, had been dismissed in disgrace before being sent to the

fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul to await there his trial; though

strenuous efforts had been made to punish those to whose carelessness

this mass of misfortunes had been due, yet Rasputin and his friends

applied themselves to the task of representing the Grand Duke as being

more guilty than any one else, and of having on purpose kept secret

the real state of things, out of fear that he would be called upon,

if he revealed the truth, to surrender his command. There was not one

word of truth in these accusations, because Nicholas Nicholaievitsch

had, on the contrary, worked harder than any one to repair the blunders

of others, and had never shared the blind confidence in victory which

so many people who knew nothing about the real condition of affairs

professed to nurse. He had done all that it was humanly possible to do,

in order to save a situation which had been doomed from the first day

that it had begun to develop. If he had failed, this had been in no way

his fault, but that of circumstances and of fate which had proved too

strong for him.

The public, however, thought differently, and Rasputin’s numerous

supporters helped it to come to the conclusion that the Grand Duke

ought to be deprived of his command by some means or other. This,

however, was not such an easy thing to do, because the Emperor had a

sincere esteem and respect for his uncle, and understood better than

all those who criticised the latter the extent of the difficulties

against which he had had to fight. He refused to listen to those who

tried to shake his confidence in the commander-in-chief. He might have

gone on for a long time doing so had not Rasputin succeeded in winning

over to his point of view several high ecclesiastical dignitaries, who

took it upon themselves to speak to the Sovereign of the desire and

wishes of the nation to see him assume himself the supreme command over

his armies. They assured him that it was quite certain that the armies

would fight ever so much better under the personal leadership of their

Czar than under any other commander-in-chief, no matter how high might

be his military reputation, or how elevated might be his rank. This

was quite a new point of view, and Nicholas II. had to examine it with

attention, the more so as the Empress, too, had been won over to the

idea, and was pressing him to give to his subjects this satisfaction

for which they craved.

The military situation was then recognised, even by the most

optimistically inclined people, to be very serious, and it was

generally felt that something had to be done to excite the enthusiasm

of the troops, which had lately begun to wane. The assumption by the

Czar of the supreme command seemed to present itself almost in the

light of an absolute necessity. Perhaps from some points of view

Rasputin was not so very wrong to urge it, as it most certainly

produced a salutary effect on the whole situation. But it is to be

doubted whether the “Prophet” had ever looked at it in that light. It

is far more likely that his only aim had been the displacing of the

Grand Duke Nicholas, who had begun to look too closely into all that

was going on around Rasputin, and to watch the different intrigues in

which the latter was taking part with an attention that did not promise

anything good for him, or for the further development of his career as

an adventurer.

When the Grand Duke had been appointed Viceroy of the Caucasus, and

had left for his new residence, Rasputin breathed freely once more.

For one thing, this incident had given him a greater confidence in his

own strength than he had even possessed before. Now that he had been

able to remove the commander-in-chief of the Russian armies from his

post, it seemed to him that it would be a relatively easy thing to push

forward, and to appoint to the most important functions in the State

people indoctrinated with his view and ready to help him in keeping

undisturbed and unchallenged the position into which he had glided so

naturally, and as now appeared to him, so simply--a position which

he was absolutely determined not to lose. With a Prime Minister at

his command, he would become the real master of Russia, and the Czar

himself would be compelled to take him into account, a thing which up

to then he had refused to do, much to the distress of the “Prophet.”

Though he repeated everywhere, and to whomsoever wished to listen to

him, that he could do all he liked at Tsarskoie Selo, he knew very

well in his inmost heart that such was not the case, and that in the

Imperial Palace Rasputin was nothing but Rasputin, an ignorant peasant,

endowed sometimes with gifts of second sight and always with religious

fervour, but a peasant all the same, with whom one might pray, but whom

one would never dream of appointing to any responsible position.

The knowledge that such was the case, and that his so-called influence

existed mostly in the imagination of the people who spoke about it,

worried Rasputin. Though he dictated to ministers his will, though he

decided together with them more than one important matter, yet he felt

that there was a flaw in the edifice of his fortune, and that this flaw

consisted in the fact that the Sovereign did not share the feeling of

reverence with which the Russian nation, as the “Prophet” flattered

himself was the case, experienced for his person and for his teachings.

This was what tormented him, and he spent the whole time thinking how

it might become possible to put in the place of Mr. Goremykine another

Prime Minister more ready to enter into his views, and to follow his

advice in regard to matters of state. This the then President of

Council, in spite of his deference for Rasputin, had refused to do,

preferring to discuss the affairs of the Government alone with the

Emperor, without any interference of the former.

Rasputin spoke of his wishes to some of his confidants, and even

mentioned the subject to several of the high-born ladies who formed

the great bulk of his “clientele.” These entered into his views with

alacrity, the more so as he developed them in a pathetic tone, which

appealed to their feelings of “patriotism.” They would have given much

to be able to help him, but they did not very well know how this was

to be done. This was due to the sad fact that there seemed to be no

one available. The unexpected and sudden death of Count Witte, which

had occurred in the meanwhile, removed the only person whom they could

suggest as a candidate for the functions of Prime Minister. All those

whose names might have been mentioned as fit individuals for the post,

such as Mr. Krivoscheine for instance, were people who would, with a

greater energy even than Mr. Goremykine had ever displayed, oppose any

interference of Rasputin into the conduct of the Government. Their

perplexity might have lasted a long time if Providence, in the shape

of Mr. Manassevitsch-Maniuloff, had not interfered in their favour,

and had the latter not suggested the advisability of entering into

negotiations with Mr. Sturmer.

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