THE CZAR AT THE DUMA--THE CAMPAIGN IN GALICIA--OUR LIFE AT
G.H.Q.--GROWING DISAFFECTION IN THE REAR
(1916)
The Czar had returned to G.H.Q. alone on December 25th, and three days
later he reviewed on the Galician frontier the divisions of the Guard
which had been concentrated in view of an imminent offensive. The
absence of Alexis Nicolaïevitch was a real sorrow to him, as he had been
looking forward eagerly to presenting him to his Guard. He had then
returned to Mohileff.
Towards the end of the year 1915 the military situation of the Russians
had greatly improved. The army had taken advantage of the quiet months
which followed the conclusion of the great German offensive at the end
of September, 1915, and, thanks to the enormous reserves in man-power at
the disposal of the country, it had easily made good the very heavy
losses it had suffered in the retreat. Once more the Germans found
themselves baulked of the great prize they had promised themselves--a
prize which their brilliant successes at the opening of the campaign
seemed to have assured. They had growing doubts about their ability to
overcome the stubborn Russian resistance by arms, and by clever
propaganda and cunning intrigues they were now endeavouring to stir up
such disaffection in the interior of the country as would hasten, they
hoped, the consummation so devoutly to be desired. But in the person of
the Czar they found an insurmountable obstacle to the realisation of
their designs. That obstacle must be removed.
By assuming the command of his troops and thus staking his crown on the
struggle, the Czar had definitely deprived his enemies of all hopes of a
reconciliation. At Berlin the authorities now knew that Nicholas II.
would stand by his allies to the bitter end, and that all attempts at a
_rapprochement_ would be broken against his unswerving determination to
continue the war at any cost. They also knew that the Czar was the sole
bond between the different parties in the Empire, and that once it was
removed no organised power would be capable of averting dismemberment
and anarchy.
The German General Staff therefore devoted itself unceasingly to ruin
the prestige of the monarchy and bring about the downfall of the Czar.
To attain that object the essential step was to compromise the Czar in
the eyes of his people and his allies. Germany had in Russia many
sources of intelligence and powerful means of action, and she devoted
herself to spreading the idea that the Czar was thinking of liquidating
the war and making a separate peace.
The Czar decided to nip these intrigues in the bud and to define his
intentions beyond doubt. On January 2nd, at Zamirie, where he was
inspecting the regiments of General Kuropatkin’s army, he ended his
address to the troops with the following formal declaration:
“You need have no fear. As I announced at the beginning of the war, I
will not make peace until we have driven the last enemy soldier beyond
our frontiers, nor will I conclude peace except by agreement with our
allies, to whom we are bound not only by treaties but by sincere
friendship and the blood spilt in a common cause.”
Nicholas II. thus confirmed in the presence of his army that solemn
compact which had been entered upon on August 2nd, 1914, and renewed
when he had become Commander-in-Chief of the Russian armies. The
Government was anxious to give the widest possible publicity to the
Czar’s speech, and had it printed and distributed among the armies and
in the country districts.
In January and February the Czar continued his visits to the front and
G.H.Q. (it was at Mohileff that he spent the Russian New Year), and
returned to Tsarskoïe-Selo on February 21st, the day before the opening
of the Duma. Five days before, the news of the capture of the fortress
of Erzerum, which had so long been the backbone of the Turkish
resistance, had caused great joy throughout Russia. It was certainly a
fine success, and the offensive of the army of the Caucasus continued to
make rapid headway.
The morning after his arrival the Czar carried out his intention of
going with his brother, the Grand-Duke Michael, to the Tauride Palace,
where the Duma was to resume its labours that day. It was the first time
that the representatives of the nation had received a visit from their
sovereign, and in political circles great importance was attached to
this historical event. It bore witness to the Czar’s ardent desire for
closer co-operation with the people’s representatives, and the step was
particularly warmly welcomed, as confidence in the Government had been
shaken as the result of the reverses suffered by the army and the
crushing charges made against the former Minister of War, General
Sukhomlinoff.
The Czar was received on his arrival at the Tauride Palace by M.
Rodzianko, President of the Duma, who conducted him into the Catherine
Hall, where he was present at a _Te Deum_ to celebrate the capture of
Erzerum. Then turning to the deputies, the Czar expressed his great
pleasure at being among them, and voiced his absolute conviction that in
the tragic days through which Russia was passing they would all unite
their efforts and work together in perfect harmony for the welfare of
the country. His words were received with vociferous cheers.
The Czar withdrew after a visit to the chambers and offices of the
Tauride Palace. Half an hour later the President, in opening the
session, ended his speech with these words:
“The direct association of the Czar with his people, that benefit which
is inestimable and indispensable to the prosperity of the Russian
Empire, is now strengthened by a tie which is still more potent. This
good news will fill all hearts with, joy even in the remotest corners of
our land, and give fresh courage to our glorious soldiers, the defenders
of their country.”
On that memorable day it seemed that the sovereign, the Ministers, and
the representatives of the nation had one thought, and one thought
alone--to conquer at whatever cost.
The same evening the Czar went to the Council of State, which was also
resuming its labours that day. Then he returned to Tsarskoïe-Selo, which
he left next morning for G.H.Q. This was the time of the great onslaught
on Verdun, and it was essential that Russia should intervene without
delay in order to draw a larger portion of the German forces upon
herself. It was decided to take the offensive.
The attack was launched about March 15th in the Dvinsk and Vilna
sectors, and at first it was crowned with success, but the progress of
the Russians was slow, for the Germans offered a very stubborn
resistance. There had been a thaw, the roads were almost impracticable,
and the men had to wade through mud and marsh. The attack died down
about the beginning of April and soon came to a standstill. Yet the
diversion had borne fruit, for the Germans had found themselves
compelled to send considerable reinforcements to the threatened sectors.
* * * * *
Alexis Nicolaïevitch had remained very weak as the result of the
excessive hæmorrhage which had so endangered his life in December. It
was February before he was quite strong again, but the Czarina had
learned from experience, and intended to keep him at Tsarskoïe-Selo
until the return of the fine weather.[41]
I was far from complaining of the Czarina’s decision, for the
Czarevitch’s education was suffering as the result of our long visits to
the front.
We did not return to G.H.Q. until May 17th. The Czar was to remain there
for a considerable time. A fortnight after our arrival--on June 4th--the
great offensive of General Brussiloff opened in Galicia. It was a
complete triumph, and our successes were greatly extended in the
following days. Under the pressure of the Russian army the Austrian
front gave way and was withdrawn towards Lemberg. The number of
prisoners was very large, and the situation of the Austrians in the
Lutzk sector became highly critical. The news of this fine victory was
received with immense enthusiasm at G.H.Q. It was to be the last cause
of rejoicing for the Czar.
Since our return to Headquarters our life had followed the same course
as during our previous visits, though I no longer gave the Czarevitch
his lessons in his father’s study, but in a little verandah which we had
converted into a schoolroom or in a large tent in the garden, which was
also our dining-room. It was here that the Czar took his meals after the
hot weather began. We took advantage of the fine summer days to go
sailing on the Dnieper. We had the use of a small yacht which had been
placed at our disposal by the Ministry of Ways and Communications.
From time to time the Czarina and the Grand-Duchesses paid short visits
to G.H.Q. They lived in their train, but joined the Czar at lunch and
came with us on our excursions. The Czar in return dined with the
Czarina and spent part of the evening with his family whenever he could.
The Grand-Duchesses greatly enjoyed these visits to Mohileff--all too
short to their taste--which meant a little change in their monotonous
and austere lives. They had far more freedom here than at
Tsarskoïe-Selo. As is so often the case in Russia, the station at
Mohileff was a very long way from the town and almost in the open
country. The Grand-Duchesses spent their spare time visiting the
peasants of the neighbourhood or the families of railway employees.
Their simple ways and natural kindness soon won all hearts, and as they
adored children you could see them always accompanied by a mob of
ragamuffins collected on their walks and duly stuffed with sweets.
Unfortunately, life at Mohileff grievously interrupted Alexis
[Illustration: THREE OF THE GRAND-DUCHESSES (OLGA, ANASTASIE, AND
TATIANA) VISITING THE WIFE AND CHILDREN OF A RAILWAY EMPLOYEE AT
MOHILEFF.]
[Illustration: THE CZARINA AND THE GRAND-DUCHESS TATIANA TALKING TO
REFUGEES. MOHILEFF, MAY, 1916.
{_Facing page 166._]
Nicolaïevitch’s studies and was also bad for his health. The impressions
he gained there were too numerous and exciting for so delicate a nature
as his. He became nervous, fretful, and incapable of useful work. I told
the Czar what I thought. He admitted that my objections were well
founded, but suggested that these drawbacks were compensated for by the
fact that his son was losing his timidity and natural wildness, and that
the sight of all the misery he had witnessed would give him a salutary
horror of war for the rest of his life.
But the longer we stayed at the front the stronger was my conviction
that it was doing the Czarevitch a lot of harm. My position was becoming
difficult, and on two or three occasions I had to take strong steps with
the boy. I had an idea that the Czar did not entirely approve, and did
not back me up as much as he might have done. As I was extremely tired
by my work in the last three years--I had had no holiday since
September, 1913--I decided to ask for a few weeks’ leave. My colleague,
M. Petroff, came to take my place, and I left General Headquarters on
July 14th.
As soon as I arrived at Tsarskoïe-Selo the Czarina summoned me, and I
had a long talk with her, in the course of which I tried to show the
grave disadvantages for Alexis Nicolaïevitch of his long visits to the
front. She replied that the Czar and herself quite realised them, but
thought that it was better to sacrifice their son’s education
temporarily, even at the risk of injuring his health, than to deprive
him of the other benefits he was deriving from his stay at Mohileff.
With a candour which utterly amazed me she said that all his life the
Czar had suffered terribly from his natural timidity and from the fact
that as he had been kept too much in the background he had found himself
badly prepared for the duties of a ruler on the sudden death of
Alexander III. The Czar had vowed to avoid the same mistakes in the
education of his son.
I realised that I had come up against a considered decision, and was not
likely to secure any modification. All the same, it was agreed that
Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s lessons should be resumed on a more regular plan
at the end of September, and that I should receive some assistance in my
work.
When our conversation was over the Czarina made me stay behind to
dinner. I was the only guest that evening. After the meal we went out on
the terrace. It was a beautiful summer evening, warm and still. Her
Majesty was stretched on a sofa, and she and two of her daughters were
knitting woollen clothing for the soldiers. The two other
Grand-Duchesses were sewing. Alexis Nicolaïevitch was naturally the
principal topic of conversation. They never tired of asking me what he
did and said. I spent an hour thus in this homely and quiet circle,
suddenly introduced into the intimacy of that family life which
etiquette had forbidden me from entering, save in this casual and rare
fashion.
* * * * *
In the days following I spent my time in a round of visits and renewing
relationships which my journeys to the front had compelled me to
neglect. I thus saw people in different strata of society in the
capital, and was not slow to realise that far-reaching changes had taken
place in public opinion in recent months. People did not confine
themselves to violent attacks on the Government, but went on to attack
the person of the Czar.
Since that memorable February 22nd on which Nicholas II. had presented
himself to the Duma in his sincere desire for reconciliation, the
differences between the sovereign and the representatives of the nation
had only increased. The Czar had long been hesitating to grant the
liberal concessions which had been demanded. He considered it was the
wrong time, and that it was dangerous to attempt reforms while the war
was raging. It was not that he clung to his autocratic personal
prerogatives, for he was simplicity and modesty itself, but he feared
the effect such radical changes might have at so critical a moment. When
the Czar declared on February 22nd that he was happy to be among the
representatives of his people, the Czar had spoken his real thoughts. In
inviting them to unite all their efforts for the welfare of the country
in the tragic days through which it was passing, he was urging them to
forget all their political differences and have only one goal--victory
and belief in their Czar until the end of the war.
Why did he not make a solemn promise that day to give the nation the
liberties they asked as soon as circumstances permitted? Why did he not
try to recover by his acts that confidence of the Duma which he felt he
was losing? The answer is that those around him had made it impossible
for him to find out for himself what was really going on in the country.
The Czar’s visit to the Tauride Palace had given rise to great hopes.
They had not been fulfilled, and men were not slow to see that nothing
had been changed. The conflict with the Government was immediately
resumed. The demands became more pressing and recrimination more
violent. Frightened by the false reports of those who abused his
confidence, the Czar began to regard the opposition of the Duma as the
result of revolutionary agitation, and thought he could re-establish his
authority by measures which only swelled the general discontent.
But it was the Czarina who was the special object of attack. The worst
insinuations about her conduct had gained currency and were believed
even by circles which hitherto had rejected them with scorn. As I have
said, the presence of Rasputin at Court was a growing blot on the
prestige of the sovereigns, and gave rise to the most malicious
comments. It was not as if the critics confined themselves to attacks
upon the private life of the Czarina. She was openly accused of
Germanophile sympathies, and it was suggested that her feelings for
Germany could become a danger to the country. The word “treason” was not
yet heard, but guarded hints showed that the suspicion had been planted
in a good many heads. I knew that all this was the result of German
propaganda and intrigues.[42]
I have explained above that in the autumn of 1915 the Berlin Government
had realised that they could never overthrow Russia as long as she stood
united round her Czar, and that from that moment her one idea had been
to provoke a revolution which would involve the fall of Nicholas II. In
view of the difficulties of attacking the Czar directly, the Germans had
concentrated their efforts against the Czarina and begun a subterranean
campaign of defamation against her. It was skilfully planned and began
to show results before long. They had stopped at nothing in the way of
calumny. They had adopted the classic procedure, so well known to
history, of striking the monarch in the person of his consort. It is, of
course, always easier to damage the reputation of a woman, especially
when she is a foreigner. Realising all the advantages to be derived from
the fact that the Czarina was a German princess, they had endeavoured to
suggest very cunningly that she was a traitor to Russia. It was the best
method of compromising her in the eyes of the nation. The accusation had
been favourably received in certain quarters in Russia and had become a
formidable weapon against the dynasty.
The Czarina knew all about the campaign in progress against her and it
pained her as a most profound injustice, for she had accepted her new
country, as she had adopted her new faith, with all the fervour of her
nature. She was Russian by sentiment as she was orthodox by
conviction.[43]
My residence behind the front also enabled me to realise how much the
country was suffering from the war. The weariness and privations were
causing general discontent. As a result of the increasing shortage of
rolling-stock, fuel, which had been cruelly scarce in the winter,
continued to be unpurchasable. It was the same with food, and the cost
of living continued to rise at an alarming rate.
* * * * *
On August 11th I returned to G.H.Q. thoroughly perturbed at all I had
seen and heard. It was pleasant to find the atmosphere at Mohileff very
different from that at Petrograd, and to feel the stimulating influence
of circles which offered so stern a resistance to the “defeatist” spirit
at work at home. Yet the authorities there were very concerned at the
political situation, although that was not so obvious at first sight.
Alexis Nicolaïevitch gave me a very affectionate welcome when I came
back (he had written to me regularly while I was away), and the Czar
received me with exceptional kindness. I could thus congratulate myself
on the result of leaving my pupil for some time, especially as it might
have been a false step, and I took up my duties again with renewed
energies. My English colleague, Mr. Gibbes, had meanwhile joined us, and
as M. Petroff remained with us, the Czarevitch’s lessons could proceed
practically regularly.
At the front the fighting had gradually died down in the northern and
central sectors. It continued only in Galicia, where the Russians were
still driving the Austrians before them, and their defeat would long
since have become a flight if they had not been supported by a large
number of German regiments.
The campaign of 1916, however, had convinced the Russian General Staff
that they would never break the resistance of the enemy and secure final
victory so long as they suffered from so great a lack of artillery.
Their inferiority in that respect prevented a thorough exploitation of
the successes gained by the courage of the troops and their numerical
superiority at the beginning of each attack. There was nothing for it
but to wait until the material promised by the Allies, the delivery of
which had been delayed by difficulties of transport, was ready and
available.
The Austrian defeats had had a very great effect on Rumania. She was
more and more inclined to associate herself with the cause of the
Entente, but she was still hesitating to enter the arena. The Russian
Minister at Bucharest had had to bring strong pressure to bear to induce
her to make up her mind.[44]
On August 27th Rumania at length declared war. Her position was very
difficult, as she was on the extreme left flank of the immense Russian
front, from which she was separated by the Carpathians. She was
threatened with an Austro-German attack from the north and west, and
could be taken in rear by the Bulgarians. That is exactly what happened,
and the beginning of October marked the beginning of the reverses which
were to end only with the occupation of almost the whole of Rumania.
As soon as the danger was apparent the Russian General Staff had taken
steps to send help to the Rumanian army, but the distances were great
and the communications extremely defective. Nor was Russia in a position
to reduce the effectives on her own front to any serious degree, for in
case of urgent necessity she would have found herself unable to retrieve
the divisions sent to Rumania in time. Under pressure from the Czar,
however, all the available reinforcements had been directed there. The
question was whether these troops would arrive in time to save
Bucharest.
We returned to Tsarskoïe-Selo on November 1st. The impression made by
the Rumanian disaster had been great, and the Minister for Foreign
Affairs had been held responsible. At the beginning of the year Sturmer
had succeeded Goremykin as President of the Council of Ministers. His
appointment had been badly received, and he had simply made one fault
after another. It had been as the result of his intrigues that Sazonoff,
who had rendered such great services as Foreign Minister, had had to
resign, and Sturmer had hastened to take his place while remaining
President of the Council.
He was hated as much for his name as his acts. It was alleged that he
only kept himself in power thanks to the influence of Rasputin. Some
even went so far as to accuse him of pro-German sympathies, and to
suspect him of favouring a separate peace with Germany.[45] Nicholas II.
compromised himself by keeping for so long a Minister whom all
suspected. It was hoped that the Czar would ultimately realise that he
had been deceived once more, but we all feared that he would find out
only too late, when the harm done was irremediable.[46]