THE OLD ARMY AND THE EMPEROR.
In August, 1915, the Emperor, influenced by the entourage of the
Empress and of Rasputin, decided to take the Supreme Command of the
Army. Eight Cabinet Ministers and some politicians warned the Emperor
against this dangerous step, but their pleadings were of no avail. The
official motives they adduced were, on the one hand, the difficulty of
combining the tasks of governing the country and commanding the Army,
and, on the other, the risk of assuming responsibility for the Army at
a time when it was suffering reverses and retreating. The real motive,
however, was the fear lest the difficult position of the Army be
further imperilled by the lack of knowledge and experience of the new
Supreme C.-in-C., and that the German-Rasputin clique that surrounded
him, having already brought about the paralysis of the Government and
its conflict with the Duma, would bring about the collapse of the Army.
There was a rumour, which was afterwards confirmed, that the Emperor
came to this decision partly because he feared the entourage of the
Empress, and partly because of the popularity of the Grand Duke
Nicholas, which was growing in spite of the reverses suffered by the
Army.
On August 23rd, an order was issued to the Army and Navy. To the
official text, the Emperor added a note in his own hand, a facsimile of
which is reproduced overleaf:
This decision, in spite of its intrinsic importance, produced no strong
impression upon the Army. The High Commanding Officers and the lower
grades of Commissioned Officers were well aware that the Emperor's
personal part in the Supreme Command would be purely nominal, and the
question in everyone's mind was:
"Who will be the Chief of Staff?"
The appointment of General Alexeiev appeased the anxiety of the
officers. The rank and file cared but little for the technical side
of the Command. To them, the Czar had always been the Supreme Leader
of the Army. One thing, however, somewhat perturbed them: the belief
had gained ground among the people years before that the Emperor was
unlucky.
[Illustration: Note added by the Emperor to Army and Navy order
_Translation_:--"With firm faith in the grace of God, and with
unshaken assurance of final victory, let us fulfil our sacred duty
of defending Russia till the end, and let us not bring shame to the
Russian land.--NICHOLAS."]
In reality, it was General M. V. Alexeiev who took command of the
armed forces of Russia. In the history of the Russian war and the
Russian turmoil, General Alexeiev holds so prominent a place that his
importance cannot be gauged in a few lines. A special historical study
would be necessary in order to describe the career of a man whose
military and political activities, which some have severely criticised
and others extolled, never caused anyone to doubt that (in the words
of an Army Order to the Volunteer Army) "his path of martyrdom was
lighted by crystalline honesty and by a fervent love for his Mother
Country--whether great or downtrodden."
Alexeiev sometimes did not display sufficient firmness in enforcing
his demands, but, in respect of the independence of the "Stavka"
(G.H.Q.) from outside influences, he showed civic courage which
the High Officials of the old régime, who clung to their offices,
completely lacked.
One day, after an official dinner at Mohilev, the Empress took
Alexeiev's arm, and went for a walk in the garden with him. She
mentioned Rasputin. In terms of deep emotion she tried to persuade the
General that he was wrong in his attitude towards Rasputin, that "the
old man is a wonderful saint," that he was much calumniated, that he
was deeply devoted to the Imperial family, and, last but not least,
that his visit would bring luck to the "Stavka."
Alexeiev answered dryly that, so far as he was concerned, the question
had long since been settled. Should Rasputin appear at G.H.Q., he would
immediately resign his post.
"Is this your last word?"
"Yes, certainly."
The Empress cut the conversation short, and left without saying
good-bye to the General, who afterwards admitted that the incident had
an ill-effect upon the Emperor's attitude towards him. Contrary to the
established opinion, the relations between the Emperor and Alexeiev,
outwardly perfect, were by no means intimate or friendly, or even
particularly confidential. The Emperor loved no one except his son.
Therein lies the tragedy of his life as a man and as a ruler.
Several times General Alexeiev, depressed by the growth of popular
discontent with the regime and the Crown, endeavoured to exceed the
limits of a military report and to represent to the Emperor the
state of affairs in its true light. He referred to Rasputin and to
the question of a responsible Ministry. He invariably met with the
impenetrable glance, so well-known to many, and the dry retort:
"I know."
Not another word.
In matters of Army administration, the Emperor fully trusted Alexeiev,
and listened attentively to the General's long, and perhaps even too
elaborate, reports. Attentively and patiently he listened, but these
matters did not seem to appeal to him. There were differences of
opinion in regard to minor matters, appointments to G.H.Q., new posts,
etc.
No doubt was left in my mind as to the Emperor's complete indifference
in matters of high strategy after I read an important record--that
of the deliberations of a Military Council held at G.H.Q. at
the end of 1916, under the chairmanship of the Emperor. All the
Commanders-in-Chief and the high officials of G.H.Q. were present, and
the plans of the 1917 campaign and of a general advance were discussed.
Every word uttered at the conference was placed on record. One could
not fail to be impressed by the dominating and guiding part played by
General Gourko--Chief of the General Staff _pro tem._--by the somewhat
selfish designs of various Commanders-in-Chief, who were trying to
adapt strategical axioms to the special interests of their fronts, and
finally by the total indifference of the Supreme C.-in-C.
Relations similar to those just described continued between the Emperor
and the Chief of Staff when General Gourko took charge of that office
while Alexeiev, who had fallen seriously ill in the autumn of 1916, was
undergoing a cure at Sevastopol, without, however, losing touch with
G.H.Q., with which he communicated by direct wire.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, the struggle between the progressive block of the Duma and
the Government (General Alexeiev and the majority of the Commanding
Officers undoubtedly sympathised with the former) was gradually
becoming more and more acute. The record of the sitting of the Duma
of November 1st, 1916 (of which the publication was prohibited and an
abridged version did not appear in the Press till the beginning of
January, 1917), when Shulgin and Miliukov delivered their historical
speeches, was circulated everywhere in the Army in the shape of
typewritten leaflets. Feeling was already running so high that these
leaflets were not concealed, but were read and provoked animated
discussions in officers' messes. A prominent Socialist, an active
worker of the Union of Towns, who paid his first visit to the Army
in 1916, said to me: "I am amazed at the freedom with which the
worthlessness of the Government and the Court scandals are being
discussed in regiments and messes in the presence of Commanding
officers, at Army Headquarters, etc., and that in our country of
arbitrary repression ... at first it seemed to me that I was dealing
with 'agents provocateurs.'"
The Duma had been in close connection with the Officers' Corps for
a long time. Young officers unofficially partook in the work of the
Commission of National Defence during the period of the reorganisation
of the Army and revival of the Fleet after the Japanese War. Gutchkov
had formed a circle, in which Savitch, Krupensky, Count Bobrinski
and representatives of the officers, headed by General Gourko, were
included. Apparently, General Polivanov (who afterwards played
such an important part in contributing to the disintegration of the
Army, as Chairman of the "Polivanov Commission") also belonged to
the circle. There was no wish to "undermine the foundations," but
merely to push along the heavy, bureaucratic van, to give impetus
to the work, and initiative to the offices of the inert Military
Administration. According to Gutchkov, the circle worked quite openly,
and the War Ministry at first even provided the members with materials.
Subsequently, however, General Sukhomlinov's attitude changed abruptly,
the circle came under suspicion, and people began to call it "The Young
Turks."
The Commission of National Defence was, nevertheless, very well
informed. General Lukomski, who was Chief of the Mobilisation Section,
and later Assistant War Minister, told me that reports to the
Commission had to be prepared extremely carefully, and that General
Sukhomlinov, trivial and ignorant, produced a pitiful impression on
the rare occasions on which he appeared before the Commission, and was
subjected to a regular cross-examination.
In the course of his trial, Sukhomlinov himself recounted an episode
which illustrates this state of affairs. One day, he arrived at a
meeting of the Commission when two important military questions were to
be discussed. He was stopped by Rodzianko,[3] who said to him:
"Get away, get away. You are to us as a red rag to a bull. As soon as
you come, your requests are turned down."
After the Galician retreat, the Duma succeeded at last in enforcing the
participation of its members in the task of placing on a proper basis
all orders for the Army, and the Unions of Zemstvos and Towns were
permitted to create the "General Committee for provisioning the Army."
The hard experience of the war resulted at last in the simple scheme
of mobilising the Russian industries. No sooner did this undertaking
escape from the deadening atmosphere of military offices than it
advanced with giant strides. According to official data, in July, 1915,
each Army received 33 parks of artillery instead of the requisite 50,
whereas, in September, the figure rose to 78, owing to the fact that
private factories had been brought into the scheme. I am in a position
to state, not only on the strength of figures, but from personal
experience, that, at the end of 1916, our Army, albeit falling short of
the high standards of the Allied armies in respect of equipment, had
sufficient stores of ammunition and supplies wherewith to begin an
extensive and carefully-planned operation along the entire front. These
circumstances were duly appreciated in the Army, and confidence in the
Duma and in social organisations was thereby increased. The conditions
of internal policy, however, were not improving. In the beginning of
1917, out of the extremely tense atmosphere of political strife, there
arose the idea of a new remedy:
"REVOLUTION."
* * * * *
Representatives of certain Duma and social circles visited Alexeiev,
who was ill at Sevastopol. They told the General quite frankly that
a revolution was brewing. They knew what the effect would be in the
country, but they could not tell how the front would be impressed, and
wanted advice.
Alexeiev strongly insisted that violent changes during the war were
inadmissible, that they would constitute a deadly menace to the front,
which, according to his pessimistic view, "was already by no means
steady," and pleaded against any irretrievable steps for the sake of
preserving the Army. The delegates departed, promising to take the
necessary measures in order to avert the contemplated revolution. I do
not know upon what information General Alexeiev based his subsequent
statement to the effect that the same delegates afterwards visited
Generals Brussilov and Ruzsky, and after these generals had expressed
an opposite view to his, altered their previous decision; but the
preparations for the revolution continued.
It is as yet difficult to elucidate all the details of these
negotiations. Those who conducted them are silent; there are no
records; the whole matter was shrouded in secrecy, and did not reach
the bulk of the army. Certain facts, however, have been ascertained.
Several people approached the Emperor, and warned him of the impending
danger to the country and the dynasty--Alexeiev, Gourko, the Archbishop
Shavelski, Purishkevitch (a reactionary member of the Duma), the Grand
Dukes Nicholas Mikhailovitch and Alexander Mikhailovitch, and the
Dowager Empress. After Rodzianko's visit to the Army in the autumn of
1916, copies of his letter to the Emperor gained circulation in the
Army. In that letter the President of the Duma warned the Emperor of
the grave peril to the throne and the dynasty caused by the disastrous
activities of the Empress Alexandra in the sphere of internal policy.
On November 1st, the Grand Duke Nicholas Mikhailovitch read a letter to
the Emperor, in which he pointed out the impossible manner, known to
all classes of society, in which Ministers were appointed, through the
medium of the appalling people who surrounded the Empress. The Grand
Duke proceeded:
"... If you could succeed in removing this perpetual interference,
the renascence of Russia would begin at once, and you would recover
the confidence of the vast majority of your subjects which is now
lost. When the time is ripe--and it is at hand--you can yourself grant
from the throne the desired responsibility (of the Government) to
yourself and the legislature. This will come about naturally, easily,
without any pressure from without, and not in the same way as with
the memorable act of October 17th, 1905.[4] I hesitated for a long
time to tell you the truth, but made up my mind when your mother
and your sisters persuaded me to do so. You are on the eve of new
disturbances, and, if I may say so, new attempts. Believe me, if I so
strongly emphasise the necessity for your liberation from the existing
fetters, I am doing so not for personal motives, but only in the hope
of saving you, your throne, and our beloved country from irretrievable
consequences of the gravest nature."
All these representations were of no avail.
Several members of the right and of the liberal wing of the Duma and
of the progressive bloc, members of the Imperial family, and officers,
joined the circle. One of the Grand Dukes was to make a last appeal
to the Emperor before active measures were undertaken. In the event
of failure, the Imperial train was to be stopped by an armed force on
its way from G.H.Q. to Petrograd. The Emperor was to be advised to
abdicate, and, in the event of his refusal, he was to be removed by
force. The rightful heir, the Czarevitch Alexis, was to be proclaimed
Emperor, and the Grand Duke Michael, Regent.
At the same time, a large group of the progressive bloc of the Duma, of
representatives of Zemstvos and towns--well versed in the activities of
the circle--held several meetings, at which the question was discussed
of "the part the Duma was to play after the _coup d'état_."[5] The new
Ministry was then outlined, and of the two suggested candidates for the
Premiership, Rodzianko and Prince Lvov, the latter was chosen.
Fate, however, decreed otherwise.
Before the contemplated _coup d'état_ took place, there began, in the
words of Albert Thomas, "the brightest, the most festive, the most
bloodless Russian Revolution."