OUR CAPTIVITY AT TOBOLSK
(AUGUST-DECEMBER, 1917)
What reasons had the Council of Ministers for transporting the Imperial
family to Tobolsk?
It is difficult to say definitely. When Kerensky told the Czar of the
proposed transfer he explained the necessity by saying that the
Provisional Government had resolved to take energetic measures against
the Bolsheviks; this would result in a period of disturbance and armed
conflict of which the Imperial family might be the first victims; it was
therefore his duty to put them out of danger. It has been claimed in
other quarters that it was an act of weakness in face of the Extremists,
who, uneasy at seeing in the army the beginnings of a movement in favour
of the Czar, demanded his exile to Siberia. However this may be, the
journey of the Imperial family from Tsarskoïe-Selo to Tobolsk was
effected under comfortable conditions and without any noteworthy
incidents.
Leaving on August 14th at 6 a.m., we reached Tioumen--the nearest
railway station to Tobolsk--on the evening of the 17th, and a few hours
later boarded the _Rouss_.
On the following day we passed the native village of Rasputin, and the
family, gathered on the deck, were able to observe the house of the
_staretz_, which stood out clearly from among the _isbas_. There was
nothing to surprise them in this event, for Rasputin had foretold that
it would be so, and chance once more seemed to confirm his prophetic
words.
On the 19th, towards the end of the afternoon, we suddenly saw at a bend
in the river the crenellated silhouette of the Kremlin, which dominates
Tobolsk, and an hour later we reached our destination.
The house which was to receive us not being ready, we were forced to
remain for some days on the boat which had brought us, and it was not
until August 26th that we moved into our new quarters.
The family occupied the whole of the first floor of the Governor’s
house, a spacious and comfortable building. The suite lived in
Korniloff’s house, belonging to a rich merchant of Tobolsk, and situated
on the other side of the road almost facing ours. The guard was formed
by soldiers of the former rifle regiments of the Imperial family who had
come with us from Tsarskoïe-Selo. They were under the orders of Colonel
Kobylinsky, a generous man who had become sincerely attached to those in
his charge; he did all he could to ameliorate their lot.
At first the conditions of our captivity were very similar to those at
Tsarkoïe-Selo. We had all that was necessary. The Czar and children
nevertheless suffered from lack of space. Their exercise was confined to
a very small kitchen garden and a yard which had been formed by
enclosing with a fence a broad and little-frequented street running
along the south-east side of the house in which they lived. It was very
little, and they were exposed to the observation of the soldiers, whose
barracks overlooked the whole of the space reserved for us. On the other
hand, the members of the suite and servants were freer than at
Tsarskoïe-Selo, at any rate to begin with, and
[Illustration: GRAND-DUCHESS TATIANA SITTING AT THE FURTHEST POINT THE
PRISONERS WERE ALLOWED TO GO IN THE PARK OF TSARSKOÏE-SELO.]
[Illustration: ALEXIS NICOLAÏEVITCH JOINS HIS SISTER, THE GRAND-DUCHESS
TATIANA.
{_Facing page 240._]
were allowed to go into the town or immediate surroundings.
In September Commissary Pankratof arrived at Tobolsk, having been sent
by Kerensky. He was accompanied by his deputy, Nikolsky--like himself,
an old political exile. Pankratof was quite a well-informed man, of
gentle character, the typical enlightened fanatic. He made a good
impression on the Czar and subsequently became attached to the children.
But Nikolsky was a low type, whose conduct was most brutal. Narrow and
stubborn, he applied his whole mind to the daily invention of fresh
annoyances. Immediately after his arrival he demanded of Colonel
Kobylinsky that we should be forced to have our photographs taken. When
the latter objected that this was superfluous, since all the soldiers
knew us--they were the same as had guarded us at Tsarskoïe-Selo--he
replied: “It was forced on us in the old days, now it’s their turn.” It
had to be done, and henceforward we had to carry our identity cards with
a photograph and identity number.
The religious services were at first held in the house, in the large
hall on the first floor. The priest of the Church of the Annunciation,
his deacon, and four nuns from the Yvanovsky Convent, were authorised to
attend the services. As, however, there was no consecrated altar, it was
impossible to celebrate Mass. This was a great privation for the family.
Finally, on September 21st, the festival of the Nativity of the Virgin,
the prisoners were allowed for the first time to go to the church. This
pleased them greatly, but the consolation was only to be repeated very
rarely. On these occasions we rose very early and, when everyone had
collected in the yard, went out through a little gate leading on to the
public garden, which we crossed between two lines of soldiers. We always
attended the first Mass of the morning, and were almost alone in the
church, which was dimly lighted by a few candles; the public was
rigorously excluded. While going and returning I have often seen people
cross themselves or fall on their knees as Their Majesties passed. On
the whole, the inhabitants of Tobolsk were still very attached to the
Imperial family, and our guards had repeatedly to intervene to prevent
them standing under the windows or removing their hats and crossing
themselves as they passed the house.
Meanwhile our life gradually settled down along definite lines, and by
mobilising all our resources we managed to resume the education of the
Czarevitch and two youngest Grand-Duchesses. The lessons began at nine
o’clock, and were broken off from eleven to twelve for a walk, which was
always shared by the Czar. As there was no schoolroom, the lessons were
given sometimes in the large hall on the first floor, sometimes in
Alexis Nicolaïevitch’s room or mine. I lived on the ground floor in what
had been the Governor’s study. At one o’clock we all assembled for
lunch. The Czarina, when she was not well, often took her meals in her
own apartments with Alexis Nicolaïevitch. About two o’clock we used to
go out again and walk about or play until four.
The Czar was suffering a great deal from lack of physical exercise.
Colonel Kobylinsky, to whom he complained of this, had beech-trunks
brought and bought some saws and axes, and we were able to cut the wood
we required for the kitchen and stoves. This was one of our great
outdoor distractions during our captivity at Tobolsk, even the
Grand-Duchesses becoming very keen on this new pastime.
After tea, lessons were resumed until about half-past six. Dinner was an
hour later, after which we went up to the large hall for coffee. We had
all been invited to spend the evening with the family, and this soon
became a regular habit for several of us. Games were organised and
ingenuity shown in finding amusements to break the monotony of our
captivity. When it began to get very cold, and the large hall became
impossible, we took refuge in the adjoining room, which was Their
Majesties’ drawing-room, the only really comfortable apartment in the
house. The Czar would often read aloud while the Grand-Duchesses did
needlework or played with us. The Czarina regularly played one or two
games of bezique with General Tatichtchef and then took up her work or
reclined in her arm-chair. In this atmosphere of family peace we passed
the long winter evenings, lost in the immensity of distant Siberia.
One of the greatest privations during our captivity at Tobolsk was the
almost complete absence of news. Letters only reached us very
irregularly and after long delay. As for newspapers, we were reduced to
a nasty local rag printed on packing paper, which only gave us telegrams
several days old and generally distorted and cut down.
The Czar eagerly followed the development of events in Russia. He
realised that the country was rushing towards ruin. He had a moment of
fresh hope when General Kornilof offered Kerensky to march on Petrograd
to put an end to the Bolshevik agitation, which was becoming more and
more menacing. His disappointment was very great when the Provisional
Government rejected this final chance of salvation. He saw in this the
only means that remained perhaps of avoiding the imminent catastrophe. I
then for the first time heard the Czar regret his abdication. He had
made this decision in the hope that those who had wished to get rid of
him would be capable of making a success of the war and saving Russia.
He had feared that resistance on his part might give rise to a civil
war in the presence of the enemy, and had been unwilling that the blood
of a single Russian should be shed for him. But had not his departure
been almost immediately followed by the appearance of Lenin and his
acolytes, the paid agents of Germany, whose criminal propaganda had
destroyed the army and corrupted the country? It now gave him pain to
see that his renunciation had been in vain, and that by his departure in
the interests of his country he had in reality done her an ill turn.
This idea was to haunt him more and more, and finally gave rise to grave
moral anxiety.
About November 15th we learnt that the Provisional Government was
overthrown and that the Bolsheviks had again come into power. But this
event did not immediately react on our life, and it was not until some
months later, as we shall see, that it occurred to them to turn their
attention to us.
* * * * *
The weeks passed and the news which reached us grew worse and worse. It
was, however, very difficult for us to follow events and grasp their
purport, for the information at our disposal did not allow us to
understand the causes or calculate the consequences; we were, so far, so
isolated from the entire world. And even if we succeeded in getting a
rough knowledge of what was happening in Russia, the rest of Europe was
almost a closed book.
Meanwhile the Bolshevik doctrines had begun their destructive work in
the detachment which was guarding us and which hitherto had been fairly
proof against them. It was composed of very varied elements: the men of
the 1st and 4th Regiments were for the most part favourably disposed
towards the Imperial family, and especially towards the children. The
Grand-Duchesses, with that simplicity which was their charm, loved to
talk to these men, who seemed to them to be linked with the past in the
same way as themselves. They questioned them about their families, their
villages, or the battles in which they had taken part in the great war.
Alexis Nicolaïevitch, who to them was still “the Heir,” had also won
their hearts, and they took trouble to please him and find amusements
for him. One section of the 4th Regiment, composed almost exclusively of
the older classes, was particularly conspicuous in its attachment, and
it was always a delight to the family to see these good fellows come
back on duty. On these days the Czar and children used to go secretly to
the guardhouse and converse or play draughts with the men, whose conduct
was never in a single instance anything but strictly correct. Here they
were once surprised by Commissary Pankratof, who stood astounded on the
doorstep, looking through his spectacles at this unexpected sight. The
Czar, seeing his disconcerted appearance, motioned to him to come and
sit at the table. But the Commissary evidently thought he was out of
place; muttering a few unintelligible words, he turned on his heel and
fled, discomfited.
Pankratof, as I have said, was a fanatic imbued with humanitarian
principles; he was not a bad fellow. Immediately after his arrival he
had organised classes for the soldiers to initiate them in Liberal
doctrines, and did all he could to develop their patriotism and
citizenship. But his efforts recoiled upon himself. A convinced
adversary of the Bolsheviks, he was in reality merely preparing the
ground for them and, without realising it, helping towards the success
of their ideas. As will be seen, he was destined to be the first victim.
The men of the 2nd Regiment had from the outset been distinguished by
revolutionary sentiments; at Tsarskoïe-Selo they had already been the
cause of a good deal of annoyance to their prisoners. The Bolshevik
_coup d’état_ increased their authority and audacity; they had managed
to form a “Soldiers’ Committee,” which tended further to restrict our
régime and gradually to substitute its authority for that of Colonel
Kobylinsky. We had proof of its ill-will on the occasion of Baroness
Buxhœveden’s arrival (the end of December O.S.). She had shared our
captivity at Tsarskoïe-Selo, and it was only the state of her health
that had prevented her from leaving with us. She had no sooner recovered
than she came, with Kerensky’s permission, to rejoin the Czarina. The
Soldiers’ Committee flatly refused to let her enter the house, and she
had to find accommodation in the town. This was a great grief to the
Czarina and the whole family, who had been looking forward very
impatiently to her arrival.
Thus we reached Christmas.
The Czarina and Grand-Duchesses had for many weeks been preparing with
their own hands a present for each of us and each of the servants. Her
Majesty distributed some woollen waistcoats which she had knitted
herself. With such touching thoughtfulness as this she tried to show her
gratitude to those who had remained faithful.
On December 24th the priest came to the house for Vespers; everyone then
assembled in the large hall, and the children were full of delight at
the “surprise” prepared for us. We now felt part of one large family; we
did our best to forget the preoccupations and distresses of the time in
order to enjoy to the full and in complete unity these moments of
peaceful intimacy.
The next day, Christmas Day, we went to church. By the
[Illustration: AT TOBOLSK, WHERE THEY WERE INTERNED FROM SEPTEMBER,
1917, TO APRIL, 1918. THE CZAR AND HIS CHILDREN ENJOY THE SIBERIAN
SUNSHINE ON THE ROOF OF A GREENHOUSE.
From left to right: The Grand-Duchesses Olga and Anastasie, the Czar and
the Czarevitch, the Grand-Duchess Tatiana, the Grand-Duchess Marie
(standing). The Czarina was confined to her room, indisposed.
{_Facing page 246._]
orders of the priest the deacon intoned the _Mnogoletié_ (the prayer for
the long life of the Imperial family). This was an imprudence which was
bound to bring reprisals. The soldiers, with threats of death, demanded
that the prayer should be revoked. This incident marred the pleasant
memories which this day should have left in our minds. It also brought
us fresh annoyances and the supervision became still stricter.