EXILE IN SIBERIA
The period between autumn, 1917, and the following spring furnishes much
material for this tragic history. It was during their exile in Siberia
that the fate of the Romanovs was decided--not in the Urals. It was at
Tobolsk, in the close intimacy that misfortune naturally brings, that
the true character of each captive, high and low, asserted itself. Thus,
invaluable _data_ has been obtained for the historian.
At first the captives enjoyed the respite of remoteness from the storm
centre of Petrograd. But many circumstances gradually impaired this
advantage. They began to suffer privations even before the Reds captured
the government. The remittances promised by Kerensky did not arrive.
After the Bolshevist usurpation, the captives were allowed starvation
rations, and had to eke out their livelihood by needlework, drawings,
etc. Then the boy fell ill with one of his periodical attacks,
aggravated by the exhausting effects of the Siberian winter and
inadequate diet.
At Tobolsk Alexandra showed herself to be strong, brave, gentle.
Adversity seemed to bring out all that was best in her nature. Yet here
the family physician, who had followed them into exile and afterwards
shared their fate in Ekaterinburg, became entirely convinced that she
was not quite normal. It required only a chance remark on political
topics to provoke a hysterical outburst. As usual, she could see nothing
bad in the peasants, even when the peasant soldiers of the guard were
constantly behaving “like cads”--despite Kerensky’s exhortations.
Nicholas sawed wood and gave lessons to the children. Indeed, with the
help of Mr. Sidney Gibbes and M. Gilliard and other teachers, they were
making up for time lost in their education.
With so many and such powerful influences interested in their existence,
it was only to be expected that efforts would be made to enter into
communication with the exiled monarchs. Each of the parties then
fighting for power in Russia had its spies and emissaries in Tobolsk. It
is certain that the Germans were represented in many ways. It is equally
certain that the Entente had nobody. The talk of a rescue by some bold
Englishman ascending the Ob and Irtysh from the Arctic Ocean and wafting
away the prisoners is not only unfounded, it is the merest moonshine.
Winter in Siberia lasts seven months, during which time there is no
means of reaching the northern shores except on sleighs. Any attempt to
enter or leave the country would have been easily discovered and
notified by telegraph, which was wholly in the hands of the Soviets.
One comfort was not denied to the captives--they sent and received
letters, in some cases without censorship. They were also able to get
newspapers and other literature. Thus they were in touch with the
happenings of the outer world. These did not bring them much
consolation, it must be admitted. Nicholas never recovered from the blow
of learning in this manner of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. Up to that
time he had, in spite of everything, kept alive some hope for the future
of his country. Thenceforth he was a man without hope, and all that
happened afterwards left him indifferent. If he could have died without
causing pain to his wife and children, he would have died gladly, unable
to live down the stain of dishonour.
The exiles suffered unconsciously from the senseless if not traitorous
behaviour of a man in whom they naturally trusted--the local priest,
Father Vasiliev. Base cupidity may have been his only motive, but it is
certain that he caused incalculable harm and must be held accountable
for the tales of alleged plots to escape from Tobolsk. The Reds used him
as their tool. Perhaps he was not altogether blind. There were other
“friends” who proverbially, proved to be worse than enemies. On the
other hand, many instances of disinterested loyalty and devotion
consoled the captives in their afflictions.
From Tsarskoe to Tobolsk, the journey under normal conditions required
not more than a week. The Imperial exiles reached their destination on
August 19th, within six days of departure. They travelled in comfort in
sleeping cars with a whole retinue of servants. The list of the
passengers as officially approved numbers forty-five all told. Two
trains conveyed them and their effects. Stoppages were not made at the
large stations because local workmen and Soviets were disposed to
interfere. They had done so at Zvanka, the first important station on
the Vologda-Viatka route, by which the party travelled. The deputy
Vershinin, who had brought the Tsar a prisoner from Moghilev, acted
again in the capacity of representative of the Provisional Government
during this journey. He had the greatest difficulty in overcoming the
resistance at Zvanka. The workers did not wish to allow the trains to
pass.
At Tiumen two steamers awaited the party for the river trip to Tobolsk.
They passed by the village of Pokrovskoe. Alexandra called the children
to look at the birth-place of the “saint” on the banks of the stream in
which he had fished. She was fond of comparing him to the fishermen of
Galilee, humble men like him. The children dutifully complied and joined
their mother in prayer--not because they liked or regretted Grishka, but
out of love and obedience to their mother. To her diseased imagination
this coincidence between the scene of their exile and the home of
Razputin had a mystical meaning.
The voyage had been as pleasant as it could possibly be. The tedium of
the long days of travel had been relieved by frequent stoppages amidst
forest or field. All who wished could alight and walk, while the train
followed slowly. Such comforts are possible only in Russia. Descending
the tributaries of the mighty Irtysh, the exiles had a wonderful picture
of the Siberian autumn, with its splendour of colouring and teeming bird
life. At Tobolsk they had to remain a whole week in the steamers,
because the houses intended for them were not ready. They were, of
course, under constant guard, but allowed to take exercise ashore.
On August 26th they moved into their new prison. Alexandra was suffering
more than usual from heart trouble. She drove in a comfortable carriage.
The Tsar and the family and household walked. With the exception of a
few servants, all found accommodation in two houses: one a warm, roomy
stone building, formerly the residence of the Governor; the other
adjoining it and known as the Kornilov house. The ex-sovereigns and
their children took up their quarters in the upper storey of the
Governor’s house. Here were the Tsar’s study and the bed-chambers of the
imperial couple, of Alexis and of the grand-duchesses. Here also was the
drawing-room. Downstairs were the school-room, servants’ rooms, and the
quarters of the commandant and officers on guard duty. The suite and
other servants lived in the Kornilov house. Later, the soldiers
expelled many of these occupants without reason, and, as some of them
had to be accommodated in the Governor’s house, there was no small
discomfort from over-crowding.
Both houses faced the main street, which had been renamed Ulitza Svobody
(Liberty-street). People passing by could see into the lower rooms. It
became a custom to bow to any member of the family who happened to be
visible, and some of the citizens would demonstratively make the sign of
the Cross. Behind the Governor’s house was an immense enclosure,
surrounded by a high wooden fence. Here the family took their exercise;
here the ex-Tsar chopped and sawed wood, and with his own unaided
efforts built a sort of wooden terrace, where the captives loved to sit
whenever the weather permitted.
Early rising was the rule. All except the ex-Empress were ready for
breakfast by 8:30. Alexandra’s health was so bad that she seldom left
her room before lunch-time. Breakfast, as usual among Russians, was a
slight meal of tea and bread. The ex-Tsar had it in his study with his
eldest daughter Olga, who of all the children most resembled him in
character. The other children and members of the household assembled in
the dining-room, situated on the ground floor of the Governor’s house.
The Empress had coffee in bed.
Till eleven o’clock Nicholas read or wrote his diary, while the children
had lessons. From eleven till noon father and children were in the
courtyard. He worked with axe or saw and the young folks played games.
At twelve o’clock all went to the school-room and had sandwiches, after
which the Tsar left his children to continue their lessons. The family
and household met at one o’clock at lunch--a simple meal--after which
they were in the open air, weather permitting, till four p. m. The
Empress seldom left the house. Olga and Tatiana, the two elder grand
duchesses, helped their father in his manual work. Alexis generally had
a short sleep after lunch, and then followed the others into the
courtyard with his tutors.
Five o’clock tea was served in the Tsar’s study. Then followed an
interval for reading or games, then two hours for preparation of
lessons. Dinner at eight consisted of soup, fish, meat, sweet-dish, and
coffee. It was prepared by the Imperial cook, Haritonov, and during the
earlier period differed little from the customary repast of old times.
Everybody met in the drawing-room after dinner. There were reading and
conversation, Court etiquette being forgotten. Alexis retired to rest
early. At eleven o’clock tea was served, and soon afterwards all lights
were out.
Despite her poor health, Alexandra was seldom idle. In the morning she
gave lessons to the children and did needlework. When she remained alone
in the house she would play the piano. Often, when the heart trouble
was severe, she had dinner also in her room, and then Alexis kept her
company.
The company at table included besides the family only the persons
already mentioned as forming the household--namely, Countess Hendrykova,
Mlle. Schneider, Prince Dolgoruky, General Tatishchev, Mr. Gibbes, M.
Gilliard, and Dr. Botkin. On Sundays came Dr. Derevenko and his son
Kolia.
The Tsar gave lessons to Alexis in history, a favourite subject, in
which Nicholas was extremely well versed. Alexandra instructed all the
children in religion, and taught her favourite daughter Anastasia
German--a language that none of the children understood. Anastasia was
ambitious to know everything. She studied history with the help of
Countess Hendrykova. Another teacher, Mme. Bittner, came afterwards to
help in the school-room. To relieve the monotony of their lives, the
children were encouraged to take up private theatricals. Several plays,
English and French, were produced with great success.
To the Empress’s intense joy, they were permitted to attend church. Her
greatest sorrow at Tsarskoe had been the interdict on church-going, the
nearest place of worship being outside the precincts of the palace and
therefore inaccessible to the prisoners. Here at last they could go to
church, after a lapse of more than four months. But the sacred edifice
was closed to other worshippers when the exiles attended it.
Unhappily, this source of spiritual comfort was not unalloyed with
temporal drawbacks. Father Vasiliev, the incumbent, did a very rash
thing one day. Without consulting anybody, he suddenly intoned the
prayers for the sovereigns, as if they were still on the Throne. The
exiles were powerless to interfere. Of course, the incident came to the
knowledge of the whole garrison immediately afterwards, and led to the
sort of reprisals that one might have expected: church-going was stopped
for ever, and, what was worse, the soldiers insisted upon having a
representative inside the house at all religious services, to see that
the above named practice was not repeated. Thus all the efforts of
Colonel Kobylinsky, the good-hearted commandant, to keep the soldiers
out of the house were defeated.
Within a month of their arrival in Tobolsk the exiles were placed under
the observation of special emissaries of the Provisional Government: the
Komisar Pankratov and his assistant, Nikolsky. The former enjoyed high
confidence and renown in revolutionary circles, having spent fifteen
years in the Fortress of Schlusselburg and twenty-seven years in exile
in Siberia. A typical theorist, dangerous in his teachings, he was
personally the best-hearted of men. He adored children, and was the
playmate of the young Romanovs, whom he literally enthralled with
stories of his prison years. His particular favourite was Maria.
Nikolsky, on the other hand, was uncouth, uncultured, brutal, and
stupid, and took an apparent delight in bullying the young folks,
especially Alexis. With permission from the Government, some medicinal
wine had been sent to Tobolsk from Tsarskoe. Nikolsky took the bottles
and smashed them.
As a matter of fact, the delightful but not very far-sighted Pankratov
caused much more harm than the bestial Nikolsky. True to his
revolutionary principles, he immediately proceeded to indoctrinate the
soldiers. Perhaps he feared the personal influence and charm of the
ex-Tsar. Pankratov talked with them by the hour on the wonders of the
Socialist-Revolutionary programme, and, as so often happened in Russia,
the ignorant listeners became not Socialist-Revolutionaries but
Bolshevists. Anyhow, they very soon lost all respect for authority in
the persons of their commandant and officers, and began to ill-treat the
prisoners. They sank so low that even the young grand duchesses suffered
insult. Lewd drawings and inscriptions disfigured the posts of the swing
that was their only outdoor pastime. Later, these hooligans broke up the
ice-hill that the girls and their father had put up in the yard.
The day came when they included the ex-Tsar in their deviltries.
Nicholas wore the simplest garb--a soldier’s khaki shirt and overcoat,
retaining only his colonel’s shoulder-straps and his Cross of St.
George. Suddenly the soldiers decided that he must take off his badges
of rank. In vain Kobylinsky remonstrated with them. They threatened
violence if their “orders” were not carried out at once. It hurt the
ex-Tsar to the quick to cut off his shoulder-straps. Thenceforth the
cross alone remained to symbolise his fidelity to Russia and her allies.
He kept it ever on his breast to his dying day.
Some of the old soldiers remained immune from Pankratov’s influence, and
when the time came for them to be relieved, they visited the ex-Tsar by
stealth to bid good-bye. These were affecting scenes. The men fell on
their knees and prayed, and then embraced the captive and blessed him.
Of course, Nicholas related all this to Alexandra, whereby her
invincible belief in the peasants gathered new strength.
On several occasions violent disputes arose between Alexandra and one of
the ladies, because the latter spoke of the horrible behaviour of the
soldiers. Alexandra lost all control over herself, and cried: “They are
all good! They are all good! They are led astray by Jews.... The people
will come to their senses, and there will be order.... The soldiers are
all right. I wish the officers were more energetic.”
In November, while Kerensky was still at the head of the Government, no
money had as yet been received, in spite of all his promises. The funds
of the household had run out, and Dolgoruky and Tatishchev, having
expended their own substance, had to borrow from charitable souls in the
town, giving their note of hand in return. Two months later, word came
from the Soviet Government that it had no money to spend on the
prisoners. They would be allowed to occupy their houses free of charge,
would receive soldiers’ rations, and have to work if they wanted
anything more. Sorrowfully, they faced the situation. One-third of the
servants were at once released, each receiving a certain sum out of the
scanty remnants. Nicholas and Alexandra never knew how their faithful
followers had to pinch and contrive in order to keep the household from
starvation.
Alexis astonished the household by his precocious understanding. “I
begin to know the truth here. At Tsarskoe everybody told lies,” he
remarked one day. “If I become Tsar, no one will dare to tell me lies. I
shall make order in the land.” He combined his mother’s will with his
father’s charm. Those who came to know the boy at Tobolsk are confident
that he would have justified his words.
To a visitor at his bedside when he was ill, he spoke his thoughts about
Razputin. The “saint’s” portrait had been placed by Alexandra near her
sick son’s pillow. The visitor accidentally upset it. “Do not pick it
up!” cried Alexis. “The floor is the place for it.”
* * * * *
Towards the end of their exile, some, if not all, of the captives
realised the desperate nature of their position, and had scant hope of
surviving Bolshevist rule for any length of time. Pathetic evidences of
their attitude were found among the papers that remained at Tobolsk and
came into the hands of the investigating magistrate. Among them are two
prayers written in verse--apparently composed by Countess Hendrykova and
transcribed by the Grand Duchess Olga. Here is an approximate rendering
of some of the verses:--
Grant us Thy patience, Lord,
In these our woeful days,
The mob’s wrath to endure,
The torturers’ ire;
Thine unction to forgive
Our neighbours’ persecution,
And mild, like Thee, to bear
A blood-stained Cross.
And when the mob prevails,
And foes come to despoil us,
To suffer humbly shame,
O Saviour aid us!
And when the hour comes,
To pass the last dread gate,
Breathe strength in us to pray,
“Father forgive them!”