CHAPTER V.

THE REVOLUTION AND THE IMPERIAL FAMILY.

Alone in the Governor's old Palace at Mohilev the Czar suffered in

silence; his wife and children were far away, and there was no one with

him in whom he was able or willing to confide.

Protopopov and the Government had at first represented the state of

affairs as serious, but not alarming--popular disturbances to be

suppressed with "a firm hand." Several hundred machine-guns had been

placed at the disposal of General Habalov, Commander of the troops of

the Petrograd district. Both he and Prince Golitzin, President of the

Cabinet, had been given full authority to make use of exceptional means

of quelling the riots. On the morning of the 27th General Ivanov had

been despatched with a small detachment of troops and a secret warrant,

to be made public after the occupation of Czarskoe Selo. The warrant

invested him with full military and civic powers. No one could have

been less fitted than General Ivanov to occupy so highly important

a position, which amounted actually to a Military Dictatorship.

Ivanov was a very old man--an honest soldier, unfitted to cope with

political complications and no longer in possession of strength,

energy, will-power, or determination.... His success in dealing with

the Kronstadt disturbances of 1906 most probably suggested his present

nomination.

Afterwards, when looking over Habalov's and Bieliaiev's[6] reports,

I was aghast at the pusillanimity and the shirking of responsibility

which they revealed.

The clouds continue to darken.

On February 26th the Empress wired to the Czar: "Am very anxious

about the state of affairs in town...." On the same day Rodzianko

sent his historic telegram: "Position serious. Anarchy in the

capital. Government paralysed. Transport, supplies of fuel and

other necessaries completely disorganised. General discontent grows.

Disorderly firing in the streets. Military units fire at each other.

Imperative necessity that some person popular in the country should be

authorised to form new Cabinet. No delay possible. Any delay fatal.

I pray God that the Monarch be not now held responsible." Rodzianko

forwarded copies of his telegram to all the Commanders-in-Chief, asking

their support.

Early on the 27th the President of the Duma wired again to the Czar:

"Position constantly aggravated. Measures must be taken immediately, as

to-morrow may be too late. This hour decides the fate of our country

and the dynasty."

It is incredible that, after this, the Czar should not have realised

the impending catastrophe, but, in the weakness and irresolution

that characterised him, it is probable that he seized the slightest

available excuse to postpone his decision, and in a fatalistic manner,

left to fate to carry out her secret decrees....

Be that as it may, another impressive warning from General Alexeiev,

confirmed by telegrams from the Commanders-in-Chief, yielded no better

results, and the Czar, anxious about the fate of his family, left for

Czarskoe Selo on the morning of the 29th, without coming to any final

decision on the concessions to be granted to his people.

General Alexeiev, although straightforward, wise, and patriotic, was

lacking in firmness, and his power and influence with the Emperor were

too slight to permit of his insisting on a step the obvious necessity

for which was evident even to the Empress. She wired to her husband on

the 27th: "Concessions inevitable."

The futile journey was two days in accomplishment. Two days without

any correspondence or news as to the course of events, which were

developing and changing every hour.... The Imperial train, taking a

roundabout course, was stopped at Vishera by orders from Petrograd.

On hearing that the Petrograd garrison had acclaimed the Provisional

Committee of the Duma, and that the troops of Czarskoe Selo had sided

with the Revolution, the Czar returned to Pskov.

At Pskov, on the evening of March 1st, the Czar saw General Ruzsky, who

explained the position to him, but no decision was arrived at, except

that on the 2nd of March, at 2 a.m., the Czar again sent for Ruzsky,

and handed him an ukase, which made the Cabinet responsible to the

Duma. "I knew that this compromise had come too late," said Ruzsky to

a correspondent, "but I had no right to express my opinion, not having

received any instructions from the Executive Committee of the Duma, so

I suggested that the Emperor should see Rodzianko."[7]

All night long discussions full of deep interest and importance to the

fate of the country were held over the wire--between Ruzsky, Rodzianko,

and Alexeiev; between Headquarters and the Commanders-in-Chief, and

between Lukomsky[8] and Danilov.[9]

They unanimously agreed that the Abdication of the Emperor was

unavoidable.

Before midday on March 2nd Ruzsky communicated the opinion of Rodzianko

and the Military Commanders to the Czar. The Emperor heard him calmly,

with no sign of emotion on his fixed, immovable countenance, but at 3

p.m. he sent Ruzsky a signed Act of Abdication in favour of his son--a

document drawn up at Headquarters and forwarded to him at Pskov.

If the sequence of historical events follows immutable laws of its

own, there also seems to be a fate influencing casual happenings of

a simple, everyday nature, which otherwise seem quite avoidable. The

thirty minutes that elapsed after Ruzsky had received the Act of

Abdication materially affected the whole course of subsequent events:

before copies of the document could be despatched, a communication,

announcing the delegates of the Duma, Gutchkov and Shulgin, was

received.... The Czar again postponed his decision and stopped the

publication of the Act.

The delegates arrived in the evening.

Amidst the complete silence of the audience,[10] Gutchkov pictured the

abyss that the country was nearing, and pointed out the only course to

be taken--the abdication of the Czar.

"I have been thinking about it all yesterday and to-day, and have

decided to abdicate," answered the Czar. "Until three o'clock to-day I

was willing to abdicate in favour of my son, but I then came to realise

that I could not bear to part with him. I hope you will understand

this? As a consequence, I have decided to abdicate in favour of my

brother."

The delegates, taken aback by such an unexpected turn of events,

made no objection. Emotion kept Gutchkov silent. "He felt he could

not intrude on paternal relations, and considered that any pressure

brought to bear upon the Emperor would be out of place." Shulgin was

influenced by political motives. "He feared the little Czar might grow

up harbouring feelings of resentment against those who had parted him

from his father and mother; also the question whether a regent could

take the oath to the Constitution on behalf of an Emperor, who was not

of age was a matter of debate."[11]

"The resentment" of the little Czar concerned a distant future. As to

legality, the very essence of a Revolution precludes the legality of

its consequences. Also the _enforced_ abdication of Nicholas II., his

rejection of the rights of inheritance of _his son_, a minor, and,

lastly, the transfer of supreme power by Michael Alexandrovitch, a

person who _had never_ held it, to the Provisional Government by means

of an act, in which the Grand Duke "appeals" to Russian citizens to

obey the Government, are all of doubtful legality.

It is not surprising that, "in the minds of those living in those

first days of the Revolution"--as Miliukov says--"the new Government,

established by the Revolution, was looked upon, not as a consequence

of the acts of March 2nd and 3rd, but as a result of the events of

February 27th...."

I may add that later, in the minds of many Commanding Officers--amongst

them, Kornilov, Alexeiev, Romanovsky and Markov, who played a

leading part in the attempt to save Russia--legal, party or dynastic

considerations had no place. This circumstance is of primary importance

for a proper understanding of subsequent events.

About midnight on March 2nd the Czar handed Rodzianko and Ruzsky two

slightly amended copies of the Manifesto of his Abdication.

* * * * *

"In the midst of our great conflict with a foreign enemy, who has been

striving for close on three years to enslave our country, it has been

the will of God to subject Russia to new and heavy trials. Incipient

popular disturbances now imperil the further course of the stubborn

war. The fate of Russia, the honour of our heroic Army, the entire

future of our beloved Land, demand that the war should be carried to a

victorious conclusion.

"The cruel foe is nearly at his last gasp, and the hour approaches when

our gallant Army, together with our glorious Allies, will finally crush

our enemy's resistance. In these decisive days of Russia's existence we

feel it our duty to further the firm cohesion and unification of all

the forces of the people, and, with the approval of the State Duma,

consider it best to abdicate the Throne of Russia and lay down our

supreme power. Not wishing to part from our beloved Son, we transmit

our inheritance to our Brother, the Grand Duke Michael Alexandrovitch,

and give him our blessing in ascending the Throne of the Russian Empire.

"We command our Brother to rule the State in complete and undisturbed

union with the representatives of the people in such Legislative

Institutions as the People will see fit to establish, binding himself

by oath thereto in the name of our beloved country.

"I call all true sons of the Fatherland to fulfil their sacred duty--to

obey the Czar in this time of sore distress and help him, together with

the representatives of the people, to lead the Russian State along the

road to victory, happiness and glory.

"May the Lord our God help Russia!

"NICHOLAS."

* * * * *

Late at night the Imperial train left for Mohilev. Dead silence,

lowered blinds and heavy, heavy thoughts. No one will ever know what

feelings wrestled in the breast of Nicholas II., of the Monarch, the

Father and the Man, when, on meeting Alexeiev at Mohilev, and looking

straight at the latter with kindly, tired eyes, he said irresolutely:--

_"I have changed my mind. Please send this telegram to Petrograd."_

_On a small sheet of paper, in a clear hand, the Czar had himself

traced his consent to the immediate accession to the throne of his son,

Alexis_....

Alexeiev took the telegram, and--did not send it. It was too late; both

Manifestoes had already been made public to the Army and to the country.

For fear of "unsettling public opinion," Alexeiev made no mention

of the telegram, and kept it in his portfolio until he passed it on

to me towards the end of May, when he resigned his post of Supreme

Commander-in-Chief. The document, of vast importance to future

biographers of the Czar, was afterwards kept under seal at the

Operations Department of General Headquarters.

* * * * *

Meantime, the members of the Cabinet and of the Provisional

Committee[12] had assembled at the Palace of the Grand Duke Michael

Alexandrovitch about midday on May 3rd. Since the 27th of February,

the latter had been cut off from all communication with Headquarters

or with the Emperor. But the issue of this Conference was practically

predetermined by the spirit prevailing in the Soviet of Workmen's

Delegates, after the gist of the Manifesto became known to them, by the

Resolution of Protest passed by their Executive Committee and forwarded

to the Government, by Kerensky's uncompromising attitude, and by the

general correlation of forces. Except Miliukov and Gutchkov, all the

others, "without the faintest desire of influencing the Grand Duke

in any way," eagerly advised him to abdicate. Miliukov warned them

that "the support of a symbol familiar to the masses is necessary,

if decided authority is to be maintained, and that the Provisional

Government, if left alone, might founder in the sea of popular

disturbances, and that it might not survive until the Convocation of

the Constituent Assembly...."

After another conference with Rodzianko, President of the Duma, the

Grand Duke came to his final decision to abdicate.

The "Declaration" of the Grand Duke was published on the same day:

"A heavy burden has been laid on me by the wish of my Brother, who

has transferred the Imperial Throne of All Russia to me at a time

of unexampled warfare and popular disturbances.

"Animated, together with the nation, by one thought, that the

welfare of our country must prevail over every other consideration,

I have decided to accept supreme power only if such be the will

of our great people, whose part it is to establish the form of

government and new fundamental laws of the Russian State through

their representatives in the Constituent Assembly.

"With a prayer to God for His blessing, I appeal to all citizens

of the Russian State to obey the Provisional Government, which

is constituted and invested with full powers by the will of the

State Duma, until a Constituent Assembly, convoked at the earliest

possible moment by universal, direct, equal and secret suffrage,

can establish a form of government which will embody the will of

the people."

"MICHAEL."

After his abdication, the Grand Duke resided in the neighbourhood of

Gatchino, and stood completely aloof from political life. About the

middle of March, 1918, he was arrested by order of the local Bolshevik

Committee, taken to Petrograd, and, some time later, exiled to the

Government of Perm.

It was rumoured that the Grand Duke, accompanied by his faithful

English valet, had escaped about the middle of July; since then nothing

definite has been heard about him. The search organised by the Siberian

Government and by that of Southern Russia, as also by the desire of the

Dowager Empress, yielded no certain results. The Bolsheviks, for their

part, volunteered no official information whatever. But subsequent

investigations brought some data to light which indicated that the

"release" was a deception, and that the Grand Duke was secretly carried

off by Bolsheviks, murdered in the vicinity of Perm, and his body

drowned under the ice.

The mystery of the Grand Duke's fate gave rise to fanciful rumours

and even to the appearance of impostors in Siberia. During the summer

of 1918, at the time of the first successful advance of the Siberian

troops, it was widely reported both in Soviet Russia and in the South

that the Siberian Anti-Bolshevist forces were led by the Grand Duke

Michael Alexandrovitch. Periodically, until late in 1919, his spurious

manifestoes appeared in the Provincial Press, chiefly in papers of the

extreme Right.

It must be noted, however, that when, in the summer of 1918, the Kiev

monarchists carried on an active campaign to impart a monarchical

character to the Anti-Bolshevist military movement, they rejected the

principle of legitimacy, partly because of the personality of some of

the candidates, and, in regard to Michael Alexandrovitch, because he

had "tied himself" by a solemn promise to the Constituent Assembly.

In consideration of the complexity and confusion of the conditions that

obtained in March, 1917, I have come to the conclusion that a struggle

to retain Nicholas II. at the head of the State would have led to

anarchy, disruption of the Front, and terrible consequences, both for

the Czar and for the country. A Regency, with Michael Alexandrovitch

as Regent, might have involved conflict, but no disturbance, and was

certain of success. It would have been more difficult to place Michael

Alexandrovitch on the throne, but even that would have been possible if

a Constitution on broad, democratic lines had been accepted by him.

The members of the Provisional Government and of the Provisional

Committee--Miliukov and Gutchkov excepted--terrorised by the Soviets of

Workmen's Delegates, and attributing too much importance to them and to

the excited workmen and soldier masses in Petrograd, took on themselves

a heavy responsibility for the future when they persuaded the Grand

Duke to decline the immediate assumption of Supreme Power.[13]

I am not referring to Monarchism or to a particular dynasty. These are

secondary questions. I am speaking of Russia only.

It is certainly hard to say whether this power would have been lasting

and stable, whether it would not have undergone changes later on; but,

if it had even succeeded in maintaining the Army during the war, the

subsequent course of Russian history might have been one of progress,

and the upheavals that now endanger her very existence might have been

avoided.

* * * * *

On March 7th the Provisional Government issued an order according to

which "The ex-Emperor and his Consort are deprived of liberty, and the

ex-Emperor is to be taken to Czarskoe Selo." The duty of arresting the

Empress was laid on Kornilov, and orthodox Monarchists never forgave

him for it. But, strangely enough, Alexandra Fedorovna, after hearing

of the warrant, expressed her satisfaction that the renowned General

Kornilov, and not a member of the new Government, had been sent to her.

The Emperor was arrested by four members of the Duma.

On March 8th, after leave-takings at Headquarters, the Czar quitted

Mohilev amidst the stony silence of the crowd, and under the tearful

eyes of his mother, who never saw her son again.

To understand the seemingly incomprehensible behaviour of the

Government to the Imperial family during the period of their residence

both at Czarskoe Selo and at Tobolsk, the following circumstances must

be kept in mind. Notwithstanding that, in the seven and a half months

of the existence of the Provisional Government, not one single serious

attempt was made to liberate the captives, yet they attracted the

exclusive attention of the Soviet of Workmen and Soldiers' Delegates.

On March 10th Vice-President Sokolov made the following announcement

to a unanimously approving audience: "I was informed yesterday that

the Provisional Government had consented to allow Nicholas II. to go

to England and that it is discussing arrangements with the British

authorities without the knowledge or the consent of the Executive

Committee of Workmen's and Soldiers' Delegates. We have mobilised all

the military units that we can influence, and have taken measures to

prevent Nicholas II. from leaving Czarskoe without our permission.

Telegrams have been sent down the railway lines ... to detain the train

of Nicholas II. should it appear.... We have despatched our Commissars

with the necessary number of troops and armoured cars, and have closely

surrounded the Alexander Palace. After that we conferred with the

Provisional Government, who confirmed all our orders. At present

the late Czar is under our protection, as well as under that of the

Provisional Government...."

On the 1st August, 1917, the Imperial family was exiled to Tobolsk,

and, after the establishment of Bolshevist rule in Siberia, they were

transferred to Ekaterinburg, and were the victims of incredible insults

and cruelty by the mob, until they were put to death.[14] Thus did

Nicholas II. atone for his grievous sins, voluntary and involuntary,

against the Russian people.[15]

In the course of the second Kuban campaign I received the news of the

death of the Emperor Nicholas II., and ordered memorial services for

the soul of the former leader of the Russian Army to be held in the

Volunteer Army. Democratic circles and the Press criticised me severely

for this.

The words of wisdom, _Vengeance is mine: I will repay_, were obviously

forgotten.

The Russian Turmoil; Memoirs: Military, Social, and Political · 第 5 / 34 章