IMPRESSIONS OF PETROGRAD AT THE END OF MARCH, 1917.
Before his abdication the Emperor signed two ukazes--appointing Prince
Lvov President of the Council of Ministers and the Grand-Duke Nicholas
Supreme Commander-in-Chief. "In view of the general attitude towards
the Romanov Dynasty," as the official Petrograd papers said, and in
reality for fear of the Soviet's attempting a military _coup d'état_,
the Grand-Duke Nicholas was informed on March 9th by the Provisional
Government that it was undesirable that he should remain in supreme
command. Prince Lvov wrote: "The situation makes your resignation
imperative. Public opinion is definitely and resolutely opposed to any
members of the House of Romanov holding any office in the State. The
Provisional Government is not entitled to disregard the voice of the
people, because such disregard might bring about serious complications.
The Provisional Government is convinced that, for the good of the
country, you will bow to the necessity and will resign before returning
to G.H.Q." This letter reached the Grand-Duke when he had already
arrived at G.H.Q. Deeply offended, he immediately handed over to
General Alexeiev and replied to the Government: "I am glad once more
to prove my love for my country, which Russia _heretofore_ has never
doubted...."
The very serious question then arose of who was to succeed him.
There was great excitement at G.H.Q., and all sorts of rumours were
circulated, but on the day I passed Mohilev nothing was known. On the
23rd I reported to the War Minister Gutchkov, whom I had never met
before. He informed me that the Government had decided to appoint
General Alexeiev to the Supreme Command. At first there had been
differences of opinion. Rodzianko and others were against Alexeiev.
Rodzianko suggested Brussilov; but now the choice had definitely
fallen on Alexeiev. The Government considered him as a man of lenient
disposition, and deemed it necessary to reinforce the Supreme Command
by a fighting general as Chief-of-Staff. I had been selected on
condition that General Klembovski, who was then Alexeiev's assistant,
should remain in charge _pro tem._ until I became familiar with
the work. I had been, in part, prepared for this offer by the news
columns of the Kiev paper. Nevertheless, I felt a certain emotion, and
apprehended the vast amount of work which was being thrust upon me so
unexpectedly and the tremendous moral responsibility inherent in such
an appointment. At great length and quite sincerely I adduced arguments
against the appointment. I said that my career had been spent among my
men and at Fighting Headquarters, that during the war I had commanded
a division and an army corps, and that I was very anxious to continue
this work at the front. I said that I had never dealt with matters of
policy, of national defence, or of administration on such a colossal
scale. The appointment, moreover, had an unpleasant feature. It appears
that Gutchkov had quite frankly explained to Alexeiev the reasons
for my appointment on behalf of the Provisional Government, and had
given the matter the character of an ultimatum. A grave complication
had thus arisen. A Chief-of-Staff was being imposed upon the Supreme
C.-in-C., and for motives not altogether complimentary to the latter.
My arguments, however, were unavailing. I succeeded in obtaining a
delay and the privilege of discussing the matter with General Alexeiev
before taking a definite decision. In the War Minister's office I
met my colleague, General Krymov, and we were both present while the
Minister's assistants reported on uninteresting matters of routine. We
then retired into the next room and began to talk frankly.
"For God's sake," said Krymov, "don't refuse the appointment. It is
absolutely necessary."
He imparted to me his impressions in abrupt sentences in his own
peculiar and somewhat rough language, but with all his usual sincerity.
He had arrived on March 14th, summoned by Gutchkov, with whom he had
been on friendly terms, and they had worked together. He was offered
several prominent posts, had asked leave to look round, and then
had refused them all. "I saw that there was nothing for me to do in
Petrograd, and I disliked it all." He particularly disliked the men who
surrounded Gutchkov.
"I am leaving Colonel Samarine, of the General Staff, as a Liaison
Officer. There will be at least one live man."
By the irony of fate that officer whom Krymov trusted so well
afterwards played a fatal part, as he was the indirect cause of the
General's suicide.... Krymov was very pessimistic in his account of the
political situation:
"Nothing will come of it in any case. How can business be done when
the Soviet and the licentious soldiery hold the Government pinioned?
I offered to cleanse Petrograd in two days with one division; but,
of course, not without bloodshed. 'Not for anything in the world,'
they said. Gutchkov refused. Prince Lvov, with a gesture of despair,
exclaimed: 'Oh! but there would be such a commotion!' Things will get
worse. One of these days I shall go back to my army corps. I cannot
afford to lose touch with the troops, as it is upon them that I base
all my hopes. My corps maintains complete order and, perhaps, I shall
succeed in preserving that spirit."
* * * * *
I had not seen Petrograd for four years. The impression produced by the
Capital was painful and strange.... To begin with, the Hotel Astoria,
where I stayed, had been ransacked. In the hall there was a guard
of rough and undisciplined sailors of the Guards. The streets were
crowded, but dirty and filled with the new masters of the situation
in khaki overcoats. Remote from the sufferings of the front, they
were "deepening and saving" the Revolution. From whom? I had read a
great deal about the enthusiasm in Petrograd, but I found none. It
was nowhere to be seen. The ministers and rulers were pale, haggard,
exhausted by sleepless nights and endless speeches at meetings and
councils, by addresses to various delegations and to the mob. Their
excitement was artificial, their oratory was full of sonorous phrases
and commonplaces, of which the orators themselves were presumably
thoroughly sick. Inwardly in their heart of hearts they were deeply
anxious. No practical work was being done; in fact, the ministers had
no time to concentrate their thoughts upon the current affairs of
State in their departments. The old bureaucratic machine, creaking and
groaning, continued to work in a haphazard manner. The old wheels were
still revolving while a new handle was being applied.
The officers of the regular army felt themselves to be stepsons of
the Revolution and were unable to hit upon a proper tone in dealing
with the men. Among the higher ranks, and especially the officers of
the General Staff, there appeared already a new type of opportunist
and demagogue. These men played upon the weaknesses of the Soviet and
of the new governing class of workmen and soldiers, to flatter the
instincts of the crowd, thereby gaining their confidence and making new
openings for themselves and for their careers against the background
of revolutionary turmoil. I must, however, admit that in those days
the military circles proved sufficiently stolid in spite of all the
efforts to dismember them, and that the seeds of demoralisation were
not allowed to grow. Men of the type described above, such as the young
assistant of the War Minister, Kerensky, as well as Generals Brussilov,
Cheremissov, Bonch-Bruevitch, Verkhovsky, Admiral Maximov and others
were unable to strengthen their influence and their position with the
officers.
The citizen of Petrograd, in the broadest sense of the word, was by no
means enthusiastic. The first enthusiasm was exhausted and was followed
by anxiety and indecision.
Another feature of the life in Petrograd deserves to be noticed. Men
have ceased to be themselves. Most of them seem to be acting a part
instead of living a life inspired by the new breath of revolution.
Such was the case even in the Councils of the Provisional Government,
in which the deliberations were not altogether sincere, so I was
told, owing to the presence of Kerensky, the "hostage of democracy."
Tactical considerations, caution, partisanship, anxiety for one's
career, feelings of self-preservation, nervousness and various
other good and bad feelings prompted men to wear blinkers and to
walk about in these blinkers as apologists for, or at least passive
witnesses of, "the conquests of the Revolution." Such conquests as
obviously savoured of death and corruption. Hence the false pathos
of endless speeches and meetings; hence these seemingly strange
contradictions. Prince Lvov saying in a public speech: "The process
of the great Russian Revolution is not yet complete, but every day
strengthens our faith in the inexhaustible creative forces of the
Russian people, in its statesmanlike wisdom and in the greatness of
its soul."... The same Prince Lvov bitterly complaining to Alexeiev
of the impossible conditions under which the Provisional Government
was working, owing to the rapid growth of demagogy in the Soviet
and in the country. Kerensky, the exponent of the idea of Soldiers'
Committees, and Kerensky sitting in his railway carriage and nervously
whispering to his adjutant: "Send these d.... committees to h...."
Tchkheidze and Skobelev warmly advocating full democratisation of the
army at a joint sitting of the Soviet, of the Government and of the
Commanders-in-Chief, and during an interval in private conversation
admitting the necessity of rigid military discipline and of their own
incapacity to convince the Soviet of this necessity....
I repeat that even then, at the end of March, one could clearly feel
in Petrograd that the ringing of the Easter bells had lasted too long,
and that they would have done better to ring the alarm bell. There were
only two men of all those to whom I had the occasion to speak who had
no illusions whatever: Krymov and Kornilov.
* * * * *
I met Kornilov for the first time on the Galician plains, near Galtich,
at the end of August, 1914, when he was appointed to the Command of
the 48th Infantry Division and myself to the 4th (Iron) Rifle Brigade.
Since that day, for four months, our troops went forward side by side
as part of the 14th Corps, fighting incessant, glorious and heavy
battles, defeating the enemy, crossing the Carpathians and invading
Hungary. Owing to the wide extent of the front we did not often meet;
nevertheless, we knew each other very well. I had already then a clear
perception of Kornilov's main characteristics as a leader. He had an
extraordinary capacity for training troops: out of a second-rate unit
from the district of Kazan he made, in several weeks, an excellent
fighting division. He was resolute and extremely pertinacious in
conducting the most difficult and even apparently doomed operations.
His personal prowess, which provoked boundless admiration and gave
him great popularity among the troops, was admirable. Finally, he
scrupulously observed military ethics with regard to units fighting
by his side and to his comrades-in-arms. Many commanding officers
and units lacked that quality. After Kornilov's astounding escape
from Austrian captivity, into which he fell when heavily wounded,
and covering Brussilov's retreat from the Carpathians, towards the
beginning of the Revolution, he commanded the 25th Corps. All those
who knew Kornilov even slightly felt that he was destined to play
an important part in the Russian Revolution. On March 2nd Rodzianko
telegraphed direct to Kornilov: "The Temporary Committee of the Duma
requests you, for your country's sake, to accept the chief command
in Petrograd and to arrive at the Capital at once. We have no doubt
that you will not refuse the appointment, and will thereby render an
inestimable service to the country." Such a revolutionary method of
appointing an officer to a high command, without reference to G.H.Q.,
obviously produced a bad impression at the "Stavka." The telegram
received at the "Stavka" is marked "Undelivered," but on the same day
General Alexeiev, having requested the permission of the Emperor, who
was then at Pskov, issued an order of the day (No. 334): "... I agree
to General Kornilov being in temporary high command of the troops of
the Petrograd Military District."
I have mentioned this insignificant episode in order to explain the
somewhat abnormal relations between two prominent leaders, which were
occasioned by repeated, petty, personal friction.
I talked to Kornilov at dinner in the War Minister's house. It was the
only moment of rest he could snatch during the day. Kornilov, tired,
morose and somewhat pessimistic, discussed at length the conditions
of the Petrograd Garrison, and his intercourse with the Soviet. The
hero-worship with which he had been surrounded in the army had faded in
the unhealthy atmosphere of the Capital among the demoralised troops.
They were holding meetings, deserting, indulging in petty commerce
in shops and in the street, serving as hall-porters and as personal
guards to private individuals, partaking in plundering and arbitrary
searches, but were not serving. It was difficult for a fighting general
to understand their psychology. He often succeeded by personal pluck,
disregard of danger, and by a witty, picturesque word in holding the
mob, for that was what military units were. There were, however,
cases when the troops did not come out of barracks to meet their
Commander-in-Chief, when he was hissed and the flag of St. George was
torn from his motor-car (by the Finland Regiment of the Guards).
Kornilov's description of the political situation was the same as that
given by Krymov: Powerlessness of the Government and the inevitability
of a fierce cleansing of Petrograd. On one point they differed:
Kornilov stubbornly clung to the hope that he would yet succeed in
gaining authority over the majority of the Petrograd Garrison. As we
know, that hope was never fulfilled.