possibility that Warsaw and the line of fortresses which defended the
Russian frontier on the side of the Niemen could fall into the hands of
the enemy; all that the Empress expected was a defeat of the Russian
armies which would not seriously compromise their prestige, but at the
same time convince the country that an advantageous peace was, after
all, the best way of getting out of a situation where all the time one
adversary had either willingly or unwillingly misunderstood the good
intentions of the other.
She was consequently working along this line when Raspoutine returned to
Tsarskoye Selo. He did this as soon as the doctors had pronounced him
fit to travel. She began once more to pray with him and to ask him to
put her again into communication with that other world where she
imagined that Colonel Orloff was waiting to advise her as to what she
ought to do in regard to the war and to the necessity of putting an end
to it as soon as possible. But while she believed that none outside the
few people she had admitted into her confidence--one of whom was Anna
Wyrubewa, and another Sturmer, who was later on to play such an
important part in the tragedy of her fall--could guess what she was
about, Sazonoff began to suspect that it was due to her influence that
the Emperor was no longer so amenable to the advice which he ventured to
offer. It was partly to put an obstacle in the way of any independent
act of the Sovereign that might have been interpreted as not quite
loyal in regard to Russia’s Allies, that he had suggested the drawing up
of the document known by the name of the Treaty of London, in which the
Allied Powers engaged themselves not to conclude any individual or
separate peace with Germany. He thought, and others did the same, that
this would prove the best means to hold together the Entente without
exposing it to mutual suspicion. He concluded this pact of his own
authority, only acquainting the Czar with what he had done after it had
become an accomplished fact.
Nicholas understood for once the significance of his Minister’s bold
action, but he could not disavow it; therefore he had to make the best
of it. But he refrained from telling the Empress of this new
complication which would surely interfere with her hopes of a prompt
peace, and it was through a letter from her brother that she heard at
last what had taken place in London. Her wrath was intense, the more so
that her German relatives blamed her for a thing she had known nothing
about and for which they tried to make her responsible. Alexandra
Feodorowna had never understood what self-control meant, and she gave
public vent to her indignation, accusing Sazonoff of having betrayed his
Imperial Master’s confidence, and vowing that he would be made to repent
for this piece of audacity.
The Empress was still smarting under the sense of her personal defeat in
a struggle against the people who were trying to control Russian
politics and to lead them in a road she strongly objected taking, when
the news of the defeat of the Russian army at Tannenberg came like a
thunderbolt out of the blue, to stir up all the patriotic feelings of
the Russian nation and to put an end to any idea of peace which may have
existed in some timorous minds. The Empress had perforce to appear to
share the general indignation against the ruthless conduct of Germany,
and she had to acknowledge her momentary helplessness to speak what she
considered to be the language of reason, and to try to persuade her
subjects that it would be to their advantage to abandon their Allies to
their fate, and to apply themselves to withdraw their own pawns out of
the game.
In these days of suspense Raspoutine turned out to be the greatest
comfort in the world to her. For one thing, he made it possible for her
to begin again seeking in Berlin inspirations as to the course of
conduct she ought to pursue. Thanks to him, Mr. Manassavitch-Maniuloff
was persuaded to undertake a journey abroad, during which he was to see
the leading political men in Europe and to ascertain their views on the
subject of the conduct of the war in general, as well as of its chances
of success. Ostensibly it was a newspaper on which he was assistant
editor, the _Nowoie Wrémia_, that sent him on this perilous mission. In
reality, he started as the agent of the Empress, and he saw several
German officials in Stockholm, as well as in Copenhagen, where he spent
a few days. He proceeded to London and to Paris, only to lend coloring
to what otherwise would have been an impossible trip. When he returned
to Russia he brought along with him a whole program drawn out by the
Kaiser, which Alexandra Feodorowna proceeded at once to execute.
But here again she found obstacles in her path, the principal of which
was the stubbornness of the Grand-Duke Nicholas, who, in spite of the
fact that he had to acknowledge that Russia had neither guns nor
ammunition in sufficient quantity to be able to hold her own against the
hordes of William II., yet refused to consider his country as beaten.
The Grand Duke was popular in the army. The fact that it began to be
known that he represented at Court the Russian party, in opposition to
the hated Empress, who was supposed to head the German one, gave him
considerable prestige. When the Czar had consulted him as to what ought
to be done, he had replied:
“Do anything you like except conclude peace, because if you do I shall
be the first one to lead the army against you, and to compel you to go
on with the struggle.”
Nicholas had repeated to the Czarina the threat of his cousin, and this
had been sufficient to incense the latter, even more than she had been
before, against a man whom she considered, perhaps not quite without
reason, as her most formidable enemy.
Nevertheless, she tried to persuade him to change his mind, and made an
appeal to his feelings of humanity, asking him whether it was right to
go on with a war in which hundreds of thousands of Russian soldiers had
already fallen, which would probably entail more sacrifices in the
future than the country could afford. She spoke eloquently, but the
Grand Duke remained unmoved, and at last Alexandra Feodorowna, worn out
by the supreme effort which she had made, gave way to her uncontrollable
grief, exclaiming in her deep distress:
“My country, my poor country, must I forsake thee?”
Nicholas Nicholaievitch turned round and said, with a withering
contempt:
“To what country do you allude, Madam--to Russia or to Germany?”
The Empress jumped up, her eyes blazing with rage. She rang the bell,
and told the lady in waiting who came in response to her call:
“Show the Grand Duke out. He must never be allowed to enter this room
any more.”
And Nicholas Nicholaievitch never did so again.
XX
IT IS YOUR HUSBAND WHO IS LOSING THE THRONE OF YOUR SON
This interview with the Grand Duke, Commander-in-chief of the armies in
the field, could not fail to produce a deep impression on the troubled
mind of the Empress. Her proud and unforgiving character had been goaded
to the extreme by the irony with which her husband’s cousin had received
the overtures which she had made to him, and she could not bring herself
to forgive him for the calm disdain with which he had asked her whether
she considered Russia or Germany as her Fatherland.
Of course she flew to Anna Wyrubewa to seek consolation, but when the
latter advised her to ask Raspoutine to pray for her in this crisis of
her life, Alexandra Feodorowna for once did not accept this suggestion,
saying that a man absorbed in religious practices like the “Prophet”
could not be expected to take a sane view of a position which was
getting so intricate that it would require a statesman of unusual
ability to unravel it. But she expressed herself willing to talk to Mr.
Sturmer about it, and to ask him what he thought of the Grand Duke’s
insolence, as she termed it, and what he would suggest as to the means
of putting it down.
It is time here to say a word concerning Mr. Sturmer, who was so soon to
play a prominent part in the drama of the Romanoffs’ fate. He was a man
of moderate intelligence, great ambition, and above everything else an
opportunist--a perfect type of the class called in Russian Tchinownikis,
who always and in everything it does approves the government of the day.
He had for years paraded ultra-conservative opinions, and while he had
performed the functions of Master of the Ceremonies at the Imperial
Court, he had professed great sympathies for England and for everything
British, playing the European, while at heart he was the personification
of the Tartar hidden under the Russian flag. He was, moreover, an
excellent talker and a well-read, well-educated man. His German origin
had imbued him, as was to be expected, with considerable admiration for
the Kultur, such as it was understood at the time I am referring to. The
late Czar Alexander III. had always abominated him and shown him that
such was the case in an unmistakable manner. But Mr. Sturmer had the
happy knack never to notice what it was inconvenient for him to be
caught looking at; he stuck to his post until he contrived to get
another appointment, that of President of the zemstwo of the province of
Twer, where he possessed a large estate. This position, however, he had
to abandon soon, because his colleagues happened all of them to be very
ardent liberals who refused to accept his monarchical views.
Sturmer retired to private life, but at the time of the accession to the
Throne of Nicholas II. he came to St. Petersburg, and managed to convey
to the new Czar a detailed report as to the wave of liberalism that, to
use his words, “infected” the province of Twer. If we are to believe a
rumor which was persistently circulated in the capital, this had a good
deal to do with the famous speech in which the Emperor told the deputies
of the zemstwos (come to congratulate him on his marriage) that they
need not in the future indulge in “senseless dreams,” as it was his firm
intention to uphold intact the principles of autocracy.
Sturmer was clever enough to conceal his extreme delight at the
Sovereign’s attitude, and he went on with his attempt to worm himself
into the latter’s favor. Very soon afterward he re-entered public life,
was appointed Governor of that same province of Twer where he had met
with such unsuccess, and proceeded steadily to work out for himself the
reputation of being a first-rate statesman. He was shrewd enough to see
what others had failed to perceive, and this was that, with the weak
character of Nicholas II., it would require very little trouble on the
part of the Empress to obtain complete mastery over his mind. He
therefore applied himself to persuade the latter that it was her duty to
make the attempt. He had always been a fanatical orthodox, perhaps
because he had not been born one, and he was in great favor with several
high Church dignitaries, including the new confessor of the Imperial
Family, Father Schabelsky, whom the Czarina liked very much, and in whom
she had great confidence. This made it relatively easy for him to carry
to the ears of Alexandra Feodorowna his opinions on the current events
of the day, and he did not fail to do so during the troubled times of
the Revolution of 1905, and of the repression which followed upon it, in
which he took an active part. He occupied then a post in the Ministry.
However, he had to give up this upon his appointment as a member of the
Council of State, which promotion had covered an attempt on the part of
his colleagues to get rid of him. He took an important share in the
deliberations of this Assembly, and very soon was recognized as one of
the leaders of the ultra-conservative party there, and as a strong
supporter of an alliance with Germany.
This attitude alone would have been sufficient to win for him the
good-will of the Czarina, and when the war broke out she often talked
with him over the sad consequences it was sure to bring; she discussed
with this faithful friend the possibility of putting an end to it, in a
sense favorable to Russian interests, not likely to harm Russian
prestige abroad nor the dynasty at home.
Sturmer had been introduced to Raspoutine by the good offices of
Manassavitch-Maniuloff, whose services he had had the opportunity to
appreciate when they were both in the employ of the Government, and he
soon played a prominent part in all the designs of these two sinister
personages. It has even been related that it was due to his special
suggestion that the comedy of the Empress being put into direct
communication with the spirit of Colonel Orloff had been engineered; of
this there exists so far no proof, and we must therefore accept the tale
under the reserve that, according to the French proverb, it is only the
rich to whom one lends money.
When Sturmer heard about the conversation which had terminated with such
violence between Alexandra Feodorowna and the Grand-Duke Nicholas he saw
at once the capital that could be made out of the incident. He also
disliked the Grand Duke; it was therefore easy for him to enter with
alacrity and zeal into the plans of revenge that were being harbored by
the Czarina, to whom he reported that Nicholas Nicholaievitch was trying
to supplant the Czar, to get himself appointed Dictator of the Empire;
that he had, moreover, the most sinister designs against the little
Cesarewitsch, as well as against her, who, as he had openly declared,
ought to be locked up in a convent. He pointed out further to the
distracted Empress that the weakness of character of her husband might
easily make him a prey to the ambitions of his cousin and cause him to
lend himself to the latter’s schemes. Besides this, it was against all
the traditions of autocracy for a member of the Imperial Family to
aspire to make for himself an independent position outside the Czar, and
if the Grand Duke was allowed to work out the consolidation of his
popularity among the army and the military party a Palace revolution
could easily follow, which would overthrow Nicholas II. and dethrone him
in favor of some other Romanoff, willing to become an easy tool in the
hands of the Grand-Duke Commander-in-chief.
After this it became the one object of Alexandra Feodorowna’s ambition
to deprive her cousin of his command, to have him exiled somewhere far
from St. Petersburg, which by this time had been renamed Petrograd.
This, however, was a difficult piece of work to perform, precisely on
account of the weakness of temperament of Nicholas II. and of the awe
with which any violent decision to be taken in regard to any one whom he
knew to be stronger than himself inspired him. Religious superstition
was therefore brought to bear upon him; he was told by his wife, by a
few people who were devoted to her, and last but not least by
Raspoutine, that it was part of the duties of a Russian Czar to lead his
nation in times of peril; that the enthusiasm which his presence at the
head of the army would be sure to provoke would prove a great element in
the achievement of a complete victory against a formidable foe, the
strength of which had never been properly appreciated. At first Nicholas
grew impatient and would not listen. At heart he had the vague
consciousness of his own incapacity to command a big army in the field;
he feared to take such a perilous responsibility upon his shoulders. He
also knew that it was not the fault of the Grand Duke that he had been
compelled to retreat before the invading German forces, but of the men
who had failed to supply him with the necessary ammunition, artillery,
and provisions. The Emperor did not care to make out of his cousin the
scapegoat for all the sins of Israel. On the other hand, he dreaded the
ascendency which Nicholas Nicholaievitch was undoubtedly acquiring in
public opinion, and he did not care for any member of his family to
become popular at his own expense. Still, he would not come to a
decision. Even when the Grand-Duke Commander-in-chief had objected to
the presence of the Empress at headquarters, which she had wished to
visit, he had refrained from insisting on the point. He had, on the
contrary, applied himself to soothe his wife’s ruffled feelings.
This hesitation on the part of the Sovereign did not please at all the
small group of men who had entered into the schemes of the Empress. They
knew very well that so long as Nicholas Nicholaievitch remained in power
it would be impossible to bring to the front the question of a separate
peace with Germany for which they were steadily working. It was
therefore determined to force the Empress to extort from her husband the
decision they wished for; consequently Raspoutine asked her to attend a
prayer-meeting he wanted to hold, during which he said that it had been
revealed to him that she would come to learn many things hitherto kept
from her knowledge, but which it was time she should hear. What occurred
at this meeting no one ever could ascertain exactly. It seems pretty
certain that Raspoutine evoked the spirit of Colonel Orloff, and that
the customary game of making a pencil write by itself was resorted to,
with the result that Alexandra Feodorowna returned to the Palace fully
convinced that, in resisting her demand for the removal of the
Grand-Duke Nicholas from his position as Commander-in-chief of the army,
the Czar was endangering not only his own life, but also the Throne, and
the chances of succession to it of his only son.
The Empress implored her husband to listen to her, telling him that if
he really felt alarmed about taking any violent measures against the
Grand Duke, he ought at least to dismiss the latter’s head of the staff,
General Januchevitch, to whose blunders all the disasters that had
overpowered the Russian armies were due. She represented to her
bewildered spouse that public opinion claimed some one should be
punished for all the unsuccesses which had attended the war, and that it
would be satisfied to a small degree if the General were removed from
his command.
This was a compromise which Nicholas II. seized hold of with alacrity.
It had been proposed to him because it was known very well that the
Grand Duke would not consent to be parted from his faithful adviser with
whom he had shared all the anxieties of the disastrous campaign that had
been carried on amid such terrible difficulties, that he would rather
resign his own command than give him up. The surmise proved quite
correct. When Nicholas Nicholaievitch was informed of the change that
had been made in the direction of the staff, without his having been
consulted, he telegraphed to the Emperor, asking him to be also
relieved as soon as possible from the duties of his responsible
position. The Empress, Sturmer, and Raspoutine were jubilant. It was
easy to persuade the Czar that his cousin, in thus resisting his orders,
had rendered himself guilty of insubordination. It was decided not to
accept his resignation, but simply to dismiss him and to appoint him at
the same time Viceroy in the Caucasus, a position that had just been
rendered vacant by the departure of Count Worontzoff-Daschkoff for
reasons of health. This they thought would be a courteous way of getting
rid once for all of a personality so strong and so encumbering at the
same time as that of the Grand Duke, and of doing it in a manner to
which no one could raise any objections.
The Emperor said yes to everything. He had been thoroughly frightened,
and was no longer in a condition of mind capable of judging impartially
of the events taking place around him. A solemn religious service was
celebrated in the private chapel of the Imperial Palace of Tsarskoye
Selo, to implore the protection of Heaven on the new Commander-in-chief
of the Russian troops, after which Nicholas II. started for the
headquarters of the army. He was received with great pomp and ceremony
by the Grand Duke, and at once assumed the supreme command over
demoralized regiments who were full of regret at the departure of their
former leader.
Nicholas Nicholaievitch behaved with immense dignity. In this crisis of
his life he only remembered that he was a Romanoff, and he showed an
absolute submission to the decisions of the head of his dynasty. In
words of incomparable nobility he issued an army order in which he
thanked his soldiers for their good services, and expressed the hope
that the presence of their Sovereign at their head would inspire them
with a new energy in the struggle that lay before them. Then he left for
his new post, accompanied to the railway station by the Czar himself,
from whom he parted solemnly and respectfully, and whom he was never to
see again, at least not as Emperor of All the Russias.
XXI
PEACE, WE MUST HAVE PEACE
The removal of the Grand-Duke Nicholas from the position of
Commander-in-chief of the army did not meet with the general
satisfaction that his enemies had hoped it would provoke. The sane
elements of the nation understood quite well that, whatever mistakes he
had been guilty of, they had proceeded more from the many difficulties
which he had found in his way than from his own incapacity. No one liked
the thought of his place having been taken by the Czar himself, who had
long ago lost his personal prestige, whom no political party in the
country trusted. The influence of the Empress was also dreaded, and the
fact of her German leanings was openly discussed. The demand for a
responsible Cabinet, from whom explanations could be demanded by the
nation, was already to be heard everywhere. The Duma, when it had met,
had been the scene of furious discussions during which the conduct of
the Government had been severely censured. Russia was beginning to get
tired of the tyrannous hand which was weighing it down and crushing
every attempt at independence on the part of those who were in
possession of her confidence.
The Ministry was neither respected nor considered, the Sovereign was
despised, and his wife was hated. Dissatisfaction was spreading even in
the spheres which out of old traditions and principles had kept it
within bounds. The aristocracy had become weary of finding all its good
intentions disdained or misconstrued; in all classes of society people
were cursing the hidden “dark powers,” as they were called, that
disposed of the fate of the nation and that ruled the feeble and
weak-minded Monarch who had been converted into a figurehead for whom no
one cared except the unscrupulous people who were abusing his credulity
and who had contrived to get hold of his confidence.
The Czarina was openly accused of working hand in hand with her cousin,
the Kaiser, and of assisting him in his dreams of a world-wide Empire
into whose power the Russian one was to be delivered. And when the old,
feeble, opinionated, but at any rate honest, Gorémykine had been
replaced as Prime Minister by the hated Sturmer, who by this time had
risen to the position of leader of the ultra-conservative and
reactionary party in the Council of State, the general indignation
against the weakness of Nicholas II. could no longer be repressed, and
the possibility of a Palace revolution came to be spoken of as the next
thing likely to happen.
In the mean while Raspoutine and his friends were daily becoming more
powerful. The “Prophet” had by that time completely mastered the details
of the intrigue into which he had been drawn by the clever people of
whom he had been the tool. These had been at first Count Witte, who in
his hatred of the men who had driven him out of power had willingly lent
himself to the conspiracy which transformed the Empress into one of the
most active agents the Kaiser had ever had at his disposal in Russia.
When this much-discussed statesman died at the very moment he might have
been called again to play a part in the history of his country, his
place had been taken by Sturmer, Manassavitch-Maniuloff, and other
adventurers of the same kind, all eager to enrich themselves at the
expense of their own Fatherland, all of them men who only looked for
their personal financial advantage, who remained perfectly indifferent
to the disasters which one after the other were crowding upon
unfortunate Russia. Germany was clever enough to see through the game
played by these sharks and she did not hesitate an instant in buying
their services for all that they were worth.