THE REVOLUTION SEEN FROM THE ALEXANDER PALACE--THE CZAR’S RETURN TO
TSARSKOÏE-SELO
While the dramatic events I have described in the preceding chapters
were in progress at Pskoff and Mohileff the Czarina and her children,
who had remained behind at the Alexander Palace, were passing through
days of the most poignant anguish.
As we have seen, it was only after long hesitation that the Czar, in his
anxiety, had decided on March 8th, 1917, to leave Tsarskoïe-Selo and go
to G.H.Q.
His departure was a great blow to the Czarina, for to the fears aroused
in her breast by the political situation had been added her anxiety
about Alexis Nicolaïevitch. The Czarevitch had been in bed with measles
for several days, and his condition had been aggravated by various
complications. To crown everything, three of the Grand-Duchesses had
also been taken ill, and there was no one but Marie Nicolaïevna to help
the mother.
On March 10th we learned that trouble had broken out in Petrograd and
that bloody collisions had taken place between police and demonstrators.
The fact was that for several days the shortage of food had produced
feelings of bitter discontent in the poorer quarters of the city. There
had been processions, and mobs had appeared in the streets demanding
bread.
I realised that Her Majesty had a good deal on her mind, for, contrary
to her usual habit, she spoke freely about political events, and told me
that Protopopoff had accused the Socialists of conducting an active
propaganda among railway employees with a view to preventing the
provisioning of the city, and thus precipitating a revolution.
On the 11th the situation suddenly became very critical and the most
alarming news arrived without warning. The mob made its way into the
centre of the town, and the troops, who had been called in the previous
evening, were offering but slight resistance.
I heard also that an Imperial _ukase_ had ordered the sittings of the
Duma to be suspended, but that, in view of the grave events in progress,
the Assembly had disregarded the decree for its prorogation and decided
to form an executive committee charged with the duty of restoring order.
The fighting was renewed with greater violence the next morning, and the
insurgents managed to secure possession of the arsenal. Towards the
evening I was told on the telephone from Petrograd that reserve elements
of several regiments of the Guard--_e.g._, the Paul, Preobrajensky, and
other regiments--had made common cause with them. This piece of news
absolutely appalled the Czarina. She had been extremely anxious since
the previous evening, and realised that the peril was imminent.
She had spent these two days between the rooms of the Grand-Duchesses
and that of Alexis Nicolaïevitch, who had taken a turn for the worse,
but she always did her utmost to conceal her torturing anxiety from the
invalids.
At half-past ten on the morning of the 13th the Czarina beckoned me to
step into an adjoining room just as I was entering the Czarevitch’s
bedroom. She told me that the capital was actually in the hands of the
revolutionaries and that the Duma had just set up a Provisional
Government with Rodzianko at its head.
“The Duma has shown itself equal to the occasion,” she said. “I think it
has realised the danger which is threatening the country, but I’m afraid
it is too late. A Revolutionary-Socialist Committee has been formed
which will not recognise the authority of the Provisional Government. I
have just received a telegram from the Czar saying he will be here at
six in the morning, but he wants us to leave Tsarskoïe-Selo for
Gatchina,[58] or else go to meet him. Please make all arrangements for
Alexis’s departure.”
The necessary orders were given. Her Majesty was a prey to terrible
doubt and hesitation. She informed Rodzianko of the serious condition of
the Czarevitch and the Grand-Duchesses, but he replied: “When a house is
burning the invalids are the first to be taken out.”
At four o’clock Dr. Derevenko came back from the hospital and told us
that the whole network of railways round Petrograd was already in the
hands of the revolutionaries, so that we could not leave, and it was
highly improbable that the Czar would be able to reach us.
About nine in the evening Baroness Buxhœveden entered my room. She had
just heard that the garrison of Tsarskoïe-Selo had mutinied and that
there was firing in the streets. She was going to tell the Czarina, who
was with the Grand-Duchesses. As a matter of fact, she came into the
corridor at that moment and the Baroness told her how things stood. We
went to the windows. We saw General Reissine, who had taken up position
outside the palace at the head of two companies of the composite
regiment. I also saw some marines of the bodyguard and cossacks of the
escort. The park gates had been occupied in special strength, the men
being drawn up in four ranks, ready to fire.
At that moment we heard on the telephone that the rebels were coming in
our direction and had just killed a sentry less than five hundred yards
from the palace. The sound of firing came steadily nearer and a fight
seemed inevitable. The Czarina was horrorstruck at the idea that blood
might be shed under her very eyes; she went out with Marie Nicolaïevna
and exhorted the men to keep cool. She begged them to parley with the
rebels. It was a terrible moment, and our hearts almost stopped beating
with suspense. A single mistake and there would have been a hand-to-hand
fight followed by bloodshed. However, the officers stepped in and a
parley began. The rebels were impressed by the words of their old
leaders and the resolute attitude of the troops which remained faithful.
The excitement gradually subsided and a neutral zone was fixed between
the two camps.
Thus was the night passed, and in the morning formal orders from the
Provisional Government arrived which put an end to the dreadful
situation.
In the afternoon Her Majesty sent for the Grand Duke Paul and asked him
if he knew where the Czar was. The Grand Duke did not know. When the
Czarina questioned him about the situation he replied that in his
opinion the grant of a constitution at once could alone avert the peril.
The Czarina shared that view, but could do nothing, as she had been
[Illustration: IN THE CHAIR, THE GRAND-DUCHESS MARIE RECOVERING FROM HER
ILLNESS. ON THE LEFT, ANASTASIE NICOLAÏEVNA. ON THE RIGHT, TATIANA
NICOLAÏEVNA. APRIL, 1917.]
[Illustration: THE FOUR GRAND-DUCHESSES IN THE PARK AT TSARSKOÏE-SELO.
MAY, 1917.
{_Facing page 212._]
unable to communicate with the Czar since the previous evening.
The day of the 15th passed in an oppressive suspense. At 3.30 a.m. next
morning Dr. Botkin was called to the telephone by a member of the
Provisional Government, who asked him for news of Alexis Nicolaïevitch.
(We heard subsequently that a report of his death had been circulating
in the city.)
The Czarina’s ordeal was continued the next day. It was three days since
she had had any news of the Czar and her forced inaction made her
anguish all the more poignant.[59]
Towards the end of the afternoon the news of the Czar’s abdication
reached the palace. The Czarina refused to believe it, asserting it was
a _canard_. But soon afterwards the Grand Duke Paul arrived to confirm
it. She still refused to believe it, and it was only after hearing all
the details he gave her that Her Majesty yielded to the evidence. The
Czar had abdicated at Pskoff the previous evening in favour of his
brother, the Grand Duke Michael.
The Czarina’s despair almost defied imagination, but her great courage
did not desert her. I saw her in Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s room that same
evening. Her face was terrible to see, but, with a strength of will
which was almost superhuman, she had forced herself to come to the
children’s rooms as usual so that the young invalids, who knew nothing
of what had happened since the Czar had left for G.H.Q., should suspect
nothing.
Late at night we heard that the Grand Duke Michael had renounced the
throne, and that the fate of Russia was to be settled by the Constituent
Assembly.
Next morning I found the Czarina in Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s room. She was
calm, but very pale. She looked very much thinner and ever so much older
in the last few days.
In the afternoon Her Majesty received a telegram from the Czar in which
he tried to calm her fears, and told her that he was at Mohileff pending
the imminent arrival of the Dowager Empress.
Three days passed. At half-past ten on the morning of the 21st Her
Majesty summoned me and told me that General Korniloff had been sent by
the Provisional Government to inform her that the Czar and herself were
under arrest and that all those who did not wish to be kept in close
confinement must leave the palace before four o’clock. I replied that I
had decided to stay with them.
“The Czar is coming back to-morrow. Alexis must be told everything. Will
you do it? I am going to tell the girls myself.”
It was easy to see how she suffered when she thought of the grief of the
Grand-Duchesses on hearing that their father had abdicated. They were
ill, and the news might make them worse.
I went to Alexis Nicolaïevitch and told him that the Czar would be
returning from Mohileff next morning and would never go back there
again.
“Why?”
“Your father does not want to be Commander-in-Chief any more.”
He was greatly moved at this, as he was very fond of going to G.H.Q.
After a moment or two I added:
“You know your father does not want to be Czar any more, Alexis
Nicolaïevitch.”
He looked at me in astonishment, trying to read in my face what had
happened.
“What! Why?”
“He is very tired and has had a lot of trouble lately.”
“Oh yes! Mother told me they stopped his train when he wanted to come
here. But won’t papa be Czar again afterwards?”
I then told him that the Czar had abdicated in favour of the Grand Duke
Michael, who had also renounced the throne.
“But who’s going to be Czar, then?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps nobody now....”
Not a word about himself. Not a single allusion to his rights as the
Heir. He was very red and agitated.
There was a silence, and then he said:
“But if there isn’t a Czar, who’s going to govern Russia?”
I explained that a Provisional Government had been formed and that it
would govern the state until the Constituent Assembly met, when his
uncle Michael would perhaps mount the throne.
Once again I was struck by the modesty of the boy.
At four o’clock the doors of the palace were closed. We were prisoners!
The composite regiment had been relieved by a regiment from the garrison
of Tsarkoïe-Selo, and the soldiers on sentry duty were there not to
protect us, but to keep guard over us.
* * * * *
At eleven o’clock on the morning of the 22nd the Czar arrived,
accompanied by Prince Dolgorouky, the Marshal of the Court. He went
straight up to the children’s room, where the Czarina was waiting for
him.
After luncheon he went into the room of Alexis Nicolaïevitch, where I
was, and greeted me with his usual unaffected kindness. But I could tell
by his pale, worn face that he too had suffered terribly during his
absence.
Yet, despite the circumstances, the Czar’s return was a day of rejoicing
to his family. The Czarina and Marie Nicolaïevna, as well as the other
children, when they had been told what had occurred, had been a prey to
such dreadful doubts and fears on his account! It was a great comfort to
be all together in such times of trial. It seemed as if it made their
troubles less unbearable, and as if their boundless love for each other
was a dynamic force which enabled them to face any degree of suffering.
In spite of the self-control which was habitual with the Czar, he was
unable to conceal his immense distress, though his soon recovered in the
bosom of his family. He spent most of the day with them, and otherwise
read or went for walks with Prince Dolgorouky. At first he had been
forbidden to go into the park, and was only allowed the enjoyment of a
small garden contiguous to the palace. It was still under snow. A cordon
of sentries was posted round it.
Yet the Czar accepted all these restraints with extraordinary serenity
and moral grandeur. No word of reproach ever passed his lips. The fact
was that his whole being was dominated by one passion, which was more
powerful even than the bonds between himself and his family--love of
country. We felt he was ready to forgive anything to those who were
inflicting such humiliations upon him so long as they were capable of
saving Russia.
[Illustration 1: THE CZARINA’S ROOM IN THE ALEXANDER PALACE. ON THE WALL
“MARIE ANTOINETTE AND HER CHILDREN,” A TAPESTRY AFTER MADAME
VIGEE-LEBRUN’S PICTURE PRESENTED BY THE FRENCH GOVERNMENT.]
[Illustration 2: THE PORTRAIT GALLERY.
{_Facing page 216._]
The Czarina spent almost all her time on a _chaise longue_ in the
Grand-Duchesses’ room, or else with Alexis Nicolaïevitch. Her anxieties
and the emotional strain had exhausted her physically, but since the
Czar’s return she had found great moral relief, and lived closely with
her own thoughts, speaking little and finally yielding to that urgent
need for rest which had long assailed her. She was glad she need
struggle no longer and that she could wholly devote herself to those she
loved so tenderly.
She was now anxious about Marie Nicolaïevna only. The latter had been
taken ill much later than her sisters, and her condition was aggravated
by a severe attack of pneumonia of a virulent kind. Her constitution was
excellent, but she had all she could do to survive. She was also the
victim of her own devotion. This girl of seventeen had spent herself
without reflection during the revolution. She had been her mother’s
greatest comfort and stand-by. During the night of March 13th she had
been rash enough to go out with her mother to speak to the soldiers,
thus exposing herself to the cold, even though she realised that her
illness was beginning. Fortunately the other children were better, and
already on the road to convalescence.
Our captivity at Tsarskoïe-Selo did not seem likely to last long, and
there was talk about our imminent transfer to England. Yet the days
passed and our departure was always being postponed. The fact was that
the Provisional Government was obliged to deal with the advanced wing
and gradually felt that its authority was slipping away from it. Yet we
were only a few hours by railway from the Finnish frontier, and the
necessity of passing through Petrograd was the only serious obstacle.
It would thus appear that if the authorities had acted resolutely and
secretly it would not have been difficult to get the Imperial family to
one of the Finnish ports and thus to some foreign country. But they were
afraid of responsibilities, and no one dare compromise himself. Once
more Fate was on guard!