PLANNING THE CRIME
Nothing had been done at Ekaterinburg to prepare for the arrival of such
prisoners as the ex-Tsar and his family till April 27th (_i.e._, two
days after the spy Zaslavsky had denounced Yakovlev). The arrangements
then taken consisted in requisitioning Ipatiev’s house and putting a
rough hoarding around it. Zaslavsky reached Ekaterinburg in company with
a Russian workman named Alexander Avdeiev, who had been with him at
Tobolsk and become imbued with the Jew’s tale of Yakovlev’s alleged
treachery. In return for his support and blind subserviency, this man
received the post of commandant of the new imperial prison and promises
of further promotion.
Isai Goloshchekin, the intimate friend of Yankel Sverdlov, took charge
of the prisoners on their arrival. Isai played the part of a Bolshevist
Poohba, being a Komisar many times over, but above all he loomed largely
in the local _chrezvychaika_. He supervised the removal of the prisoners
from their railway carriage, completely ignoring Avdeiev, and took them
away in his motor-car. On reaching the Ipatiev house, Goloshchekin told
the imperial trio to descend, then pointing to the door,
said:--“Citizen Romanov, you may enter.” In the same manner he let the
ex-Empress and Maria pass the threshold.
Prince Dolgoruky, who was of the party, did not meet with Goloshchekin’s
approval. “You go to another prison,” said he, and straightway Dolgoruky
was removed, never to be seen again.
When, three weeks later, the other children and remainder of the
household arrived, the same procedure was adopted. Once more Avdeiev was
ignored, the person in charge being Rodionov. His brutalities at Tobolsk
had earned him distinction. Here he excelled himself. It was raining
heavily and the platforms were slimy with mud. He would not permit
anyone to help the grand duchesses to carry their own luggage. Nagorny,
one of the imperial servants, was knocked over for daring to extend a
hand to Anastasia, dragging a heavy bag.
Nobody had permission to share the new prison with the Romanovs except
the physically weak or mentally undeveloped. The only exception was Dr.
Botkin. Those who did not enter the house went to other prisons, the two
foreigners excepted. Their fate is described elsewhere.
The family, once more reunited, had need of all their love and faith to
endure the sufferings that marked this last stage of their earthly
pilgrimage. Besides them and their physician only four servants were
permitted to remain--the chambermaid Demidova, the footman Trupp, the
_chef_ Haritonov, and the boy Leonid Sednev, attendant and playmate of
the sick Alexis. Chemodurov, the Tsar’s valet, was transferred to the
town prison from the Ipatiev house three weeks after his arrival. He
survived, but his mind was affected.
This building stands at the corner of Vosnesensky prospekt and
Vosnesensky pereulok (lane) facing a large square in which stands the
church of the Ascension (Vosnesenia), a prominent landmark in the city
and suburbs. It is a two-storey stone building with a garden and
outhouses behind, to which access is obtained through a gateway into the
square. As the lane descends steeply from the square, the lower storey
is a semi-basement in front, gradually clearing the surface of the
street on the lane side. The lower floor was occupied by the guard; the
prisoners lived upstairs in the corner rooms away from the stairs and
entrance, which were on the gate side. Nicholas, Alexandra, and Alexis
shared one room facing the square; the adjoining chamber, overlooking
the lane, was occupied by the grand duchesses. The family could not
leave these two rooms except for meals, which were taken in the
adjoining dining-room. Another room, divided into two halves by an arch,
accommodated Dr. Botkin and Chemodurov on one side and the servants on
the other. From the dining-room a door led to a terrace, overlooking the
garden.
Around the house, a wooden hoarding reached up to the windows of the
upper floor. Soon after the prisoners arrived, another hoarding was put
up, completely screening the whole house up to the eaves, and enclosing
also the front entrance and gateway. There were double windows, as usual
in Russian houses. Both panes were covered with whitewash, rendering it
utterly impossible for the prisoners to see anything outside--even a
crow flying.
Sentries paced between the hoardings, inside the garden, and were
stationed at the stairs, beside the lavatory, and on the terrace. Here,
and at other convenient points, machine-guns were posted. The prisoners
were in a trap from which there was no escape. The awful thing about it
was the constant surveillance, by day and night. There was no privacy,
not even for the girls--no consideration for decency or modesty. The
Ekaterinburg period was one long martyrdom for the Romanovs, growing
worse--with one short interval--as the hour of their death approached.
Their guards, at first, were Russians, who, brutal as they were, never
attained the fiendish ingenuity in tormenting their helpless captives
that came to be displayed by the alien guards and executioners of the
final week.
There had been no provision for guarding the house--another proof that
the prisoners had not been intended for Ekaterinburg. After the first
few days, a regular guard was organised from workmen employed at the
local mills and iron works. Alexander Avdeiev received the style of
“Commandant of the Special Purpose House”--such was the name of the
imperial prison. His assistants were Alexander Moshkin and Pavel
Medvedev, both workmen and Russians. Avdeiev and his particular friends
among the guards lived upstairs in the ante room and another chamber
facing the square. They were, consequently, in immediate proximity to
the prisoners. No pen can describe what this meant.
The men were coarse, drunken, criminal types, such as a revolution
brings to the surface. They entered the prisoners’ rooms whenever they
thought fit, at all hours, prying with drunken, leering eyes into
everything that they might be doing. Their mere presence was an offence;
but picture the torments of the captives to have to put up with their
loathsome familiarities! They would sit down at the table when the
prisoners ate, put their dirty hands into the plates, spit, jostle and
reach in front of the prisoners. Their greasy elbows would be thrust, by
accident or design, into the ex-Tsar’s face. Alexandra was, of course, a
special object of attention. They would crowd round her chair, lolling
in such a manner that any movement on her part brought her in contact
with their evil smelling bodies.
Prison fare of the poorest kind was provided. Breakfast comprised stale
black bread from the day before, with tea--no sugar. For dinner they had
thin soup and meat, the latter of doubtful quality. The ex-Empress could
eat nothing except macaroni.
The table cover was a greasy oil-cloth. There were not knives or forks
or even plates enough to go round. All ate with wooden spoons out of one
common dish. By the Emperor’s wish the servants sat at table with the
family.
The guards sang revolutionary songs devised to hurt and shock the
feelings of the prisoners, containing foul words such as no man should
dare to utter in the presence of innocent girls, but the revolutionary
warriors delighted in wounding the modesty of the grand duchesses in
this and in other still more repulsive ways, by filthy scribbling and
drawings on the walls and by crowding round the lavatory--there was only
one for the prisoners and the warders. They went reeling about the
house, smoking cigarettes, unkempt, dishevelled, shameless, inspiring
terror and loathing. They did not scruple to help themselves liberally
to the clothes and other property of the prisoners whenever anything
came within their reach.
Only a quarter of an hour was allowed to the prisoners in the open air.
No physical work was permitted. The ex-Tsar felt this privation very
much. Alexandra suffered terribly. Her son remained an invalid, unable
to walk. The family seemed to be overwhelmed by grief. But their faith
in God and their love for each other illuminated the gloom of this awful
prison. Above the ribald songs of their tormentors might be heard the
chanting of the Song of Cherubim, the Russian hymn of praise.
Now we come to the final phase that preceded the murder. It is full of
significance. Every step taken by the occult powers of the Ekaterinburg
_chrezvychaika_, which, it must be remembered, did nothing without
orders from the central institutions in Moscow--Sverdlov being in direct
communication with Goloshchekin--falls into its natural appointed place
as part of the cruel fate reserved for the Romanov family.
The monsters who had been placed in charge of the prisoners--as if on
purpose to torment them through the agency of Russians--did not fulfil
their mission to the end. Even they became humanised by the spectacle of
the sufferings and the patience and humility of their former
sovereigns--not all of them, of course, but certainly a majority,
including their commandant, Avdeiev.
One of these men afterwards related how the change came over him. He had
begun with hatred in his heart. The Tsar was the head of the
capitalistic system, the greatest capitalist of them all. To destroy him
was to destroy capitalism itself--the Social-Democratic programme had
made it all so plain to him. He watched the crowned enemy of mankind,
the “drinker of the people’s blood,” as he walked about the garden, and
listened to him exchanging simple, homely words with the other warders.
His notions began to waver. This was not a bad man; he was so human, so
kindly, just a man like other men, and even better. Then the idea
occurred to him that it was wrong to desire his death. What harm could
he do? Why not let him escape! Yes, it would be much better if he went
away, and the children, too, they had done no harm, and the Tsaritsa
also. She was proud. Not simple and homely, like the Tsar; but let her
also go. If she had done harm, she had also suffered.
This man repented of the evil he and his fellows were doing. He would
sing no more lewd songs, and tried to dissuade the others. Rapidly the
whole of the guard--workmen from the Lokalov and Syssert companies’
plants--were becoming disaffected.
Towards the end of June a secret emissary of one of the Monarchist
organisations called upon the Bishop of Ekaterinburg and tried to get
into communication with the Imperial prisoners through the clergy; but
this proved to be impossible. He then proposed that, at all events, some
food and comforts should be sent to the prison-house. Dr. Derevenko, who
had been permitted to remain in the city, gave his assistance at this
juncture. By some means he was in touch with the warders. Avdeiev agreed
to take in milk and other provisions if they reached the house without
attracting notice. The nuns of the monastery thereupon sent two novices,
dressed in lay garments, to the house, with all manner of dairy produce.
Avdeiev received them himself. These journeys became frequent. The poor
captives felt comforted, morally and physically. They had not been
forgotten, and the men who had been so terrible were so much kinder.
Hope once more blossomed. The Grand Duchesses looked bright and
cheerful, “as if ready to smile,” says a person who saw them at this
time. The nuns, emboldened by Avdeiev’s attitude, brought even some
tobacco for the ex-Tsar. Avdeiev referred to him as “The Emperor.”
In the beginning of July some suspicions must have arisen among the
Jewish camarilla, or perhaps Moscow had received “information.” As the
time was getting ripe for “action,” no doubt steps had been taken to
verify the arrangements, and the discovery of disaffection among the
Russian guards followed. Avdeiev was at once dismissed, the Russian
guards moved out of the house into premises on the opposite side of the
lane, and, with one exception, were forbidden to come into the house.
This exception was Pavel Medvedev. He retained his post as chief warder.
The Russian guard continued to provide sentries for the outside posts
only. They could do no harm there, and served to throw dust in the eyes
of the public.
All these changes were carried out by the new commandant, a person with
whom the reader is already acquainted, namely, Yankel Yurovsky, the son
of a Jew convict, himself a mystery man, having obtained money in
Germany for unexplained “services,” and presently one of the chiefs of
the local _chrezvychaika_. Yankel brought with him a squad of ten
“Letts”--as the Russians called them--to mount guard inside the
prison-house and take charge of the machine-gun posts. These men were
the hired assassins of the red _okhrana_. They were not Letts but
Magyars, some of them really Magyarised Germans. It must be remembered
that Siberia was Sovietised from the east, not by Russians in the first
place, but by the soldiers of Wilhelm and his Austrian henchmen, who
acted under orders from the two Kaisers. These so-called Letts had
entered the service of the _chrezvychaika_ after helping to carry out
the German design to undermine Russia.
Innumerable evidences prove that the newcomers are correctly classified.
The Russian guards could tell by their speech that they were foreigners.
To designate them as Letts was quite natural because the Letts formed
the backbone and bulk of the foreign mercenaries of Sovietdom and
therefore any non-Russian Red-guard became a “Lett.” But, as a matter of
fact, the Magyars resemble Letts in their appearance and accent.
Yurovsky spoke to them in a foreign language. Besides Russian and
Yiddish he knew only German. Among the papers found afterwards in the
prison-house was an unfinished letter to his “Tereschen” from one of the
“Letts.” It was in Magyar, but, according to the findings of experts,
the writer was evidently a German. He used capital letters for
substantives, often employed Gothic characters and made glaring
blunders in grammar, such as no Magyar would make.
Another of the “Letts” left a still more eloquent evidence of his
nationality. This man had stood on guard on the terrace communicating
with the dining-room and overlooking the garden--a very important post
with a machine-gun capable of sweeping the interior of the house and all
the approaches from the garden side. On the very day before the murder,
this man wrote in pencil on the wall of the house a record of his
service as follows:--
András Verhás
Orsegen 1918 VII/15
Alongside this inscription he had tried to write the Russian equivalent,
but could not spell out the word “karaul” (guard duty), in Magyar
_örsegen_. Scraps of paper on which other “Letts” had practised writing
Russian words were also found.
We are able to fix the date approximately when the German-Magyar guard
and Yurovsky took possession. The lay sisters bringing their usual
offerings met with a strange reception on or about July 10th--about a
week before the murder. Avdeiev did not come out to them. Some of the
Russian guards, whom they knew, were standing near the door, looking
very much confused, and at first not disposed to take charge of the
gifts. Finally, however, they did so. The sisters then walked away.
Presently the soldiers came running after them. “Please will you come
back,” they said. The nuns returned. An individual whom they afterwards
identified as Yurovsky, inquired by whose authority they had brought the
provisions. “Avdeiev and Derevenko,” was the truthful reply. “O, they
are both in it, are they,” he remarked ominously. He nevertheless
permitted them to come again, “but with milk only.”
This last week of their life must have been the most dreadful one of all
for the Romanovs. Brutal and bestial as the Russians had been in the
early part of their wardenship, they were preferable, even at their
worst, to the silent relentless torture applied by Yurovsky, who also
was a drunkard. He and his band watched them literally like a cat
watches a mouse. He was polite to the Tsar and spoke softly to Alexis;
he even permitted a priest to come and say prayers, which comforted
Alexandra and the poor captives unspeakably; yet there is evidence that
never had they looked so utterly, hopelessly wretched as under the
tutelage of the Jew. This man’s brothers and sisters describe him as a
“cruel tyrant who would not hesitate at anything to attain his ends.”
The man and his executioners only waited for the signal that was to come
from Yankel Sverdlov. Everything was ready for the murder. The victims
had been adequately tortured. Goloshchekin, the Jew Sadist, licked his
lips in pleasurable anticipation.