THE FIRST REVOLUTION
I often wondered whether the Empress had quite appreciated the
magnitude of the first revolutionary movement which took place in
Russia during and after the Japanese war. She had been repeatedly
told that it was a mutiny of no importance, bound to be crushed by
the government. The Czar as well as his ministers had purposely left
her in the dark, the former because he did not wish to alarm her, and
the latter because they feared that she might try, in presence of the
danger which threatened the dynasty, to persuade her husband to adopt
a more liberal form of administration, and to grant to Russia this
Constitution for which everybody was clamouring, especially after the
war had plainly proved that the autocratic régime was at an end. She
could, however, sometimes hear echoes of the general dissatisfaction,
and indeed the first person who pointed out to her its extent was the
Empress Dowager, who knew very well all that was going on, and who had
made it a point to become as well-informed as possible of all that was
taking place in the Empire. For once Marie Feodorovna appealed to her
daughter-in-law to open the eyes of Nicholas II as to the perils of
the political situation, but she refused to do so, thinking that the
request covered an intrigue of which she was to become the victim. And
so time went on until Count Witte, who still enjoyed some popularity,
spoke to the Emperor, and persuaded him to promulgate the famous
Manifesto of the 17th October, and to call together a Representative
Assembly. In a certain sense this was a victory for the Empress, for
she had at that period more than once expressed her conviction that
it would be to the advantage of the Russian nation to establish a
constitutional form of government, as near as possible to the one which
had proved so successful in England. But strange as it may appear to
say so, she was at that very moment changing her opinions and rallying
to those of the people who thought that every concession to the demands
of the populace would bring about the ruin of the monarchy, just as the
calling together of the States General in France in 1789 had brought
about the fall of the Bourbons and sent Louis XVI. finally to the
scaffold. She had always compared her fate to that of Marie Antoinette,
and had more than once expressed to her friends her conviction that
she also was destined for some horrible fate. On the day when the
first Duma was opened by the Emperor in the big ballroom of the Winter
Palace, she cried the whole time that she was dressing, and it was
almost with a feeling of horror that she allowed her maids to place
on her head the big diadem of diamonds which formed part of the Crown
jewels, and to hang about her neck the many rows of pearls and precious
stones which lay in readiness for her. She was dreading the future and
wondering what it would bring with it.
[Illustration: _International Film Service_
THE GRAND STAIRCASE, WINTER PALACE, PETROGRAD]
There is one incident concerning these momentous days which I must
relate. When the population of St. Petersburg, headed by the notorious
Gapone, repaired to the Winter Palace and asked to see the Sovereign,
in order to lay their grievances before him, the Czarina was of the
opinion that he ought to have received them and spoken with them. Her
mother-in-law thought the same thing. But the ministers, and especially
Count, then still Baron, Fredericks opposed it, and it was their
advice which prevailed, instead of that of the two Empresses. To
tell the truth, Nicholas was not of a courageous nature, and but too
ready to listen to those who told him that he ought not to expose his
person to any danger.
But in presence of this new load of calamity that threatened her
and her children my mistress more than ever put her trust in God,
and prayed, prayed with more fervour than she had ever done before.
Several times she interceded in favour of revolutionaries who had been
sentenced to death for some political crime or other. This happened
particularly in the case of a woman, Sophy Konoplianinova, who had
murdered General Minn, the commander of the Semenovsky regiment, who
had repressed with ruthless cruelty the Moscow Rebellion. The Empress
wished to have her pardoned, but the Czar would not listen to her, and
all her pleadings for mercy were in vain.
Is it to be wondered that racked as she was with cruel anxieties, and
bred in an atmosphere of superstition, she set her belief more than
ever in spiritism and consulted fortunetellers, and monks and priests
who predicted to her a future devoid of cares, and one where worries
would be unknown to her? She listened to them, and with a blind faith
in their many and varied predictions she proceeded to absorb herself
more and more in practices of a religious devotion which finally
mastered all her thoughts and left no room in them for anything else.
She had fitted up in her bedroom an oratory full of sacred images, to
which every day was added another icon. No Russian was ever a firmer
believer in the different dogmas of the Orthodox Church than was this
daughter of a German house, whose mother had been an intimate friend of
the famous Strauss, and had allowed the latter to dedicate to her his
life of Jesus which had caused such a profound sensation in literary,
religious and philosophical circles all over the world.
The Revolution was finally mastered, and though the Duma always
continued to show itself criticising and even rebellious, things
began to settle down. Russia prepared to celebrate the anniversary
of the Three Hundredth Year of the accession of the Romanoff dynasty
to the throne, and great rejoicings were planned for the occasion.
The Imperial family came to St. Petersburg for the first time since
the Japanese war, and remained in the capital for four days. A solemn
service of thanksgiving was celebrated in the Kazan Cathedral, to
which representatives of all the classes of the Empire were invited,
and the nobility of St. Petersburg gave a big ball at which the whole
Imperial family was present. I remember it so well, because it was the
last occasion on which the Empress appeared in full state and wore the
Crown Jewels. She had chosen a white satin dress all embroidered in
silver, and had consented to put on what she did but rarely—the famous
necklace of diamonds together with the tiara that had belonged to the
Empress Catherine. She was still beautiful, but the slight figure that
had been so conspicuous in her young days, and the beautiful complexion
which had been unrivalled, had disappeared. She looked a middle
aged, haggard woman, racked with cares and anxieties, and though the
splendid, sharp profile could never change, the mouth had altered, and
its expression was almost tragic. She only remained for an hour at the
ball, and retired before supper, leaving her daughters to the care of
the Dowager Empress, who declared herself delighted at the thought of
chaperoning them.
It was the girls’ first appearance in society, and those who saw
them then will never forget how they looked. They were both dressed
in pink, soft clouds of tulle, which suited them to perfection. Not
regularly pretty, they had sweet faces, and such charming manners
that one could not help being attracted by them. Rumours of their
approaching marriages with the Crown Prince of Servia and the future
heir to the Roumanian throne were afloat at the time, and added to
the interest which they excited. Alas, alas, all these hopes were to
prove fallacious, and St. Petersburg society, which had been so much
attracted by these two Princesses, was never to see them again, at
least as the daughters of a reigning Sovereign.
Dark rumours were already coursing at the time concerning the Empress
and her affection for the terrible Rasputin who was to do her so much
harm. In general she was unfortunate in her friendships, because the
one which she formed for Madame Wyroubieva caused also much scandal.
The Czarina with all her cleverness (and she was clever) had no
judgment and did not possess the slightest knowledge of the world or
of humanity. She believed all that she was told, and, if the truth be
said, she was so anxious to please and to be liked that she accepted
with joy and an amazing credulity the protestations of affection she
met with. If she had only had a really good friend, so many of the
mistakes which she made might have been avoided.
One of the people who did her the most harm was her own sister, the
Grand Duchess Elizabeth. The latter was an ambitious person who
conceived the plan to rule Russia through the Empress. She had entered
a convent not at all out of any vocation for the religious life, but
because she thought that it would give her prestige in the country,
and that she might acquire there a position which it would have been
impossible for her to obtain as the widow of a Grand Duke who had been
murdered on account of his unpopularity and the hatred with which he
was looked upon in the whole of Russia. She posed as a victim and she
absolutely abused the privileges which this attitude conferred upon
her. She used to worry the Czarina greatly, and whenever the latter
objected to anything that she told her, or refused to comply with any
of the continual requests she put forth, she threatened her with the
punishment of Heaven, and told her that God would chastise her and
take away from her her idolised son. She spent her time going about
from one convent to another, and in that way contrived to travel all
over Russia and to win for herself a considerable number of adherents
everywhere. Her plan was to force the Czar to rescind the Constitution
which he had granted to his subjects and to return to the old forms
of autocracy. It was she who had recommended Mr. Protopopoff and Mr.
Sturmer to the Emperor, and she had managed to secure for herself, as
well as for all the people who had sworn their allegiance to her, a
prominent place in the administration of the State.
The Empress feared her and knew beforehand that she would in the long
run be compelled to do whatever her sister required of her. Sometimes,
however, she showed some impatience at the manner in which the latter
“bossed” her, to use a vulgar expression, and then she would sulk
and lock herself up in her room, refusing to see any one, upon which
Elizabeth would sigh and make discreet allusions to the sad mental
condition of the unfortunate Czarina. She certainly was the one who
contributed the most to the popular belief that the Consort of Nicholas
II. was not quite right in her mind.
The only person who would fight the Grand Duchess, and not give in to
her caprices, was Madame Wyroubieva, and perhaps this was one of the
reasons why Alexandra Feodorovna grew so fond of her. The poor Empress
wanted some one to fight her battles for her and felt grateful to any
person capable of doing so. She had encountered so few willing to do it.
The Emperor Nicholas was very fond of his sister-in-law. She
represented to him what he called the only real Russian element in the
Imperial family, in the sense that he thought her so infeodated to
the old Muscovite traditions which his uncles and cousins, and even
his own brother and sisters, had renounced, and he fancied she would
be better able than any one else to understand the wants as well as
the idiosyncrasies of the Russian nation. He always listened to her
with deference, and, bigoted as he was himself, felt ready to believe
her when she assured him that the Almighty would always protect him,
provided he kept faithful to the principles of that Orthodox Church
which required from him the destruction of everything and every one
that showed any antagonism to this autocracy of which he was the chosen
representative. The Czar belonged to that class of people who only
listen to those who agree with them, and he had never learned anything,
or profited by the lessons that one had tried to teach to him, no
matter in what direction. He was a tyrant by character and by temper,
whilst weak and irresolute, and this is a combination which is more
often to be found than one would imagine.
At the time I am talking about my mistress was very unhappy. For one
thing, she had very little hope left of the recovery of her son, and
apart from the exaggerated love which she bore him, she felt that the
difficulty of her own position would increase should the boy die.
She had an almost morbid wish to hear people assure her that such a
misfortune was not going to overtake her, and she eagerly caught at the
assurances which Rasputin used to give her that so long as he remained
at her side no harm could happen to little Alexis. She sincerely
thought that this common peasant, by reason of his ignorance, would
be better able than a more cultured person to come into touch with
the Almighty, founding her belief on the words of the Gospel, that He
“revealed himself to simple and ignorant people.” The fact was that she
had grown tired of all the false protestations with which her ears
were saturated, and she thought that perhaps a humble Russian mougik
would at least show himself faithful to her as well as to her dynasty.
How terrible was her mistake the future was to prove.