EKATERINBURG
THE MURDER OF THE IMPERIAL FAMILY DURING THE NIGHT OF JULY 16-17TH,
1918
On our arrival at Tioumen on May 22nd we were at once taken, under a
strong escort, to the special train that was to take us to Ekaterinburg.
Just as I was getting into the train with my pupil I was separated from
him and put in a fourth-class carriage, guarded by sentries like the
others. We reached Ekaterinburg in the night, the train being stopped at
some distance from the station.
About nine o’clock the next morning several carriages were drawn up
alongside our train, and I saw four men go towards the children’s
carriage.
A few minutes passed and then Nagorny, the sailor attached to Alexis
Nicolaïevitch, passed my window, carrying the sick boy in his arms;
behind him came the Grand-Duchesses, loaded with valises and small
personal belongings. I tried to get out, but was roughly pushed back
into the carriage by the sentry.
I came back to the window. Tatiana Nicolaïevna came last, carrying her
little dog and struggling to drag a heavy brown valise. It was raining,
and I saw her feet sink into the mud at every step. Nagorny tried to
come to her assistance; he was roughly pushed back by one of the
commissaries.... A few minutes later the carriages drove off with the
children in the direction of the town.
How little I suspected that I was never to see them again, after so many
years among them! I was convinced that they would come back and fetch us
and that we should be united without delay.
But the hours passed. Our train was shunted back into the station, and
then I saw General Tatichtchef, Countess Hendrikof, and Mlle. Schneider
being taken away. A little later it was the turn of Volkof, the
Czarina’s _valet-de-chambre_, de Kharitonof, the chef, Troup, the
footman, and little Leonide Sednief, a kitchen boy of fourteen.
With the exception of Volkof, who managed to escape later, and little
Sednief, whose life was spared, not one of those who were led off that
day was destined to escape alive from the hands of the Bolsheviks.
We were still kept waiting. What was happening? Why didn’t they come for
us too? We gave ourselves up to all sorts of hypotheses, when, about
five o’clock, Commissary Rodionof, who had come to Tobolsk to fetch us,
entered our carriage and told us we were not wanted and were free.
Free! What was this? We were to be separated from the others? Then all
was over! The excitement that had sustained us up to now gave place to
deep depression. What was to be done? What was to be the next move? We
were overwhelmed.
Even to-day I cannot understand what prompted the Bolsheviks to this
decision to save our lives. Why, for instance, should Countess Hendrikof
be taken to prison while Baroness de Buxhœveden, also a lady-in-waiting
to the Czarina, was allowed to go free? Why they and not ourselves? Was
there confusion of names or functions? A mystery!
On the next and following days I and my colleague went to
[Illustration: IPATIEF’S HOUSE AT EKATERINBURG, IN WHICH THE IMPERIAL
FAMILY WERE INTERNED AND SUBSEQUENTLY MASSACRED.
Seen from the Vosnessensky Prospekt after the first fence had been
erected.
{_Facing page 270._]
see the English and Swedish consuls[70]--the French consul was away; at
all costs something had to be done to help the prisoners. The two
consuls relieved our minds by telling us that proceedings had already
been taken and that they did not think there was any imminent danger.
I walked past Ipatief’s house, of which the tops of the windows could be
seen above the wall of boards that hemmed it in. I had not yet lost all
hope of effecting an entry, for Dr. Derevenko, who had been allowed to
visit the boy, had heard Dr. Botkin ask Commissary Avdief, the
commandant of the guard, on behalf of the Czar, that I should be allowed
to rejoin them. Avdief had replied that he would refer the matter to
Moscow. Meanwhile, my companions and I, except Dr. Derevenko, who had
taken lodgings in the town, camped in the fourth-class carriage which
had brought us. We were destined to remain there for more than a month!
On the twenty-sixth we were ordered to leave the territory of the Perm
Government--which includes Ekaterinburg--without delay and return to
Tobolsk. Care had been taken that we should only have one document
between us, to keep us together and so facilitate supervision. But the
trains were no longer running. The anti-Bolshevik movement of the
Russian and Czech volunteers[71] was spreading rapidly, and the line
was exclusively reserved for the military units that were being hurried
to Tioumen. This meant further delay.
One day when I was passing Ipatief’s house, accompanied by Dr. Derevenko
and Mr. Gibbes, we saw two carriages drawn up and surrounded by a large
number of Red Guards. What was our horror at recognising in the first
Sednief (the _valet-de-chambre_ of the Grand-Duchesses) sitting between
two guards. Nagorny was going to the second carriage. He was just
setting foot on the step with his hand on the side of the carriage when,
raising his head, he saw us all there standing motionless a few yards
from him. For a few seconds he looked fixedly at us, then, without a
single gesture that might have betrayed us, he took his seat. The
carriages were driven off, and we saw them turn in the direction of the
prison.
These two good fellows were shot shortly afterwards; their sole crime
had been their inability to hide their indignation on seeing the
Bolshevik commissaries seize the little gold chain from which the holy
images hung over the sick bed of Alexis Nicolaïevitch.
A few more days passed, and then I learned through Dr. Derevenko that
the request made on my behalf had been refused.
On June 3rd our carriage was coupled to one of the many trains loaded
with starving people from Russia coming to look for food in Siberia. We
made for Tioumen, where, after various wanderings, we finally arrived on
the fifteenth. A few hours later I was placed under arrest by Bolshevik
headquarters, where I had been forced to apply for a _visa_ that was
indispensable to my companions and myself. It was only by a lucky
combination of circumstances that I came to be released in the evening
and was able to get back to the railway carriage, in
[Illustration: YOUROVSKY, FROM A PHOTOGRAPH PRODUCED AT THE ENQUIRY.]
[Illustration: THE GRAND-DUCHESSES’ ROOM AS I SAW IT ON ENTERING
IPATIEF’S HOUSE. ON THE FLOOR ARE THE ASHES FROM THE STOVES.
{_Facing page 272._]
which they were waiting for me. The following days were days of
indescribable anxiety, at the mercy of any chance that might call
attention to us. Probably what saved us was that we were lost in the
crowd of refugees who filled Tioumen station, and so managed to pass
unnoticed.
* * * * *
On July 20th the Whites, as the anti-Bolshevik troops were called,
captured Tioumen and saved us from the fanatics who had so nearly
claimed us as victims. A few days later the papers published a
reproduction of the proclamation that had been placarded in the streets
of Ekaterinburg, announcing that the sentence of death passed on the
ex-Czar Nicholas Romanoff had been carried out on the night of July
16th-17th and that the Czarina and her children had been removed to a
place of safety.
At last, on July 25th, Ekaterinburg fell in its turn. Hardly was
communication re-established--which took a long time as the permanent
way had suffered severely--when Mr. Gibbes and I hastened to the town to
search for the Imperial family and those of our companions who had
remained at Ekaterinburg.
Two days after my arrival I made my first entry into Ipatief’s house. I
went through the first-floor rooms, which had served as the prison; they
were in an indescribable state of disorder. It was evident that every
effort had been made to get rid of any traces of the recent occupants.
Heaps of ashes had been raked out of the stoves. Among them were a
quantity of small articles, half burnt, such as tooth-brushes, hairpins,
buttons, etc., in the midst of which I found the end of a hair-brush on
the browned ivory of which could still be seen the initials of the
Czarina, A. F. (Alexandra-Feodorovna.). If it was true that the
prisoners had been sent away, they must have been removed just as they
were, without any of the most essential articles of toilet.
I then noticed on the wall in the embrasure of one of the windows of
Their Majesties’ room the Empress’s favourite charm, the swastika,[72]
which she had put up everywhere to ward off ill-luck. She had drawn it
in pencil, and added, underneath, the date, 17/30 April, the day of
their incarceration in the house. The same symbol, but without the date,
was drawn on the wallpaper, on a level with the bed, occupied doubtless
by her or Alexis Nicolaïevitch. But my search was to no purpose, I could
not find the slightest clue to their fate.
I went down to the bottom floor, the greater part of which was below the
level of the ground. It was with intense emotion that I entered the room
in which perhaps--I was still in doubt--they had met their death. Its
appearance was sinister beyond expression. The only light filtered
through a barred window at the height of a man’s head. The walls and
floor showed numerous traces of bullets and bayonet scars. The first
glance showed that an odious crime had been perpetrated there and that
several people had been done to death. But who? How?
I became convinced that the Czar had perished and, granting that, I
could not believe that the Czarina had survived him. At Tobolsk, when
Commissary Yakovlef had come to take away the Czar, I had seen her throw
herself in where the danger seemed to her greatest. I had seen her,
broken-hearted after hours of mental torture, torn desperately between
her feelings as a wife and a mother, abandon her sick boy to follow the
husband whose life seemed in danger. Yes, it was possible they might
have died together, the victims of these brutes. But the children? They
too massacred? I could not believe it. My whole being revolted at the
idea. And yet everything proved that there had been many victims. Well,
then?...
During the following days I continued my investigations in Ekaterinburg
and its suburbs--the monastery, everywhere I could hope to find the
slightest clue. I saw Father Storojef, who had been the last to conduct
religious service in Ipatief’s house, on Sunday, the 14th, two days
before the night of terror. He too, alas, had very little hope.
The enquiry proceeded very slowly. It was begun in extremely difficult
circumstances, for, between July 17th and 25th the Bolshevik
commissaries had had time to efface nearly every trace of their crime.
Immediately after the taking of Ekaterinburg by the Whites, the military
authorities had surrounded the house with a guard and a judicial enquiry
had been opened, but the threads had been so skilfully entangled that it
was very difficult to sort them out.
The most important deposition was that of some peasants from the village
of Koptiaki, twenty versts north-west of Ekaterinburg. They came to give
evidence that on the night of July 16th-17th the Bolsheviks had occupied
a clearing in a forest near their village, where they had remained
several days. They brought with them objects which they had found near
the shaft of an abandoned mine, not far from which could be seen traces
of a large fire. Some officers visited the clearing and found other
objects, which, like the first, were recognised as having belonged to
the Imperial family.
The enquiry had been entrusted to Ivan Alexandrovitch Serguéief, a
member of the Ekaterinburg tribunal. It followed a normal course, but
the difficulties were very great. Serguéief was more and more inclined
to admit the death of all the members of the family. But the bodies
could still not be found, and the depositions of a certain number of
witnesses supported the hypothesis that the Czarina and the children had
been removed to another place. These depositions--as was subsequently
established--emanated from Bolshevik agents deliberately left in
Ekaterinburg to mislead the enquiry. Their end was partially attained,
for Serguéief lost precious time and was long in realising that he was
on the wrong track.
The weeks passed without bringing any new information. I then decided to
return to Tioumen, the cost of living at Ekaterinburg being very high.
Before starting, however, I obtained from Serguéief a promise that he
would recall me if any new fact of importance came to light in the
course of the enquiry.
At the end of January, 1919, I received a telegram from General Janin,
whom I had known at Mohilef when he was chief of the French Military
Mission at Russian G.H.Q. He invited me to join him at Omsk. Some days
later I left Tioumen, and on February 13th arrived at the Military
Mission sent by France to the Omsk Government.[73]
Admiral Koltchak, realising the historic importance of the enquiry into
the disappearance of the Imperial family, and wishing to know the
result, had in January charged General Ditériks to bring him from
Ekaterinburg a copy of the evidence and all the clues that had been
found. On February 5th he summoned Nicholas Alexiévitch Sokolof,
“Examining
[Illustration: IPATIEF’S HOUSE, FROM THE VOSNESSENSKY STREET.
On the ground floor, the window between two trees is that of the
room in which the murders took place. Above it is the window of the
Grand-Duchesses’ room. The four windows in pairs at the angle of
the upper floor are those of the room occupied by the Czar, the
Czarina, and the Czarevitch.
]
[Illustration: THE CZARINA’S FAVOURITE LUCKY CHARM, THE “SWASTIKA,”
WHICH SHE DREW IN THE EMBRASURE OF ONE OF THE WINDOWS IN HER ROOM AT
EKATERINBURG, ADDING THE DATE, 17/30 APRIL, 1918.
On the left, photograph of the inscription under glass with four seals.
On the right, the inscription.
{_Facing page 276._]
Magistrate,”[74] for business of particular importance, and invited him
to conduct the enquiry. Two days later the Minister of Justice appointed
him to carry on Serguéief s work.
It was at this juncture that I made the acquaintance of M. Sokolof. At
our first interview I realised that his mind was made up and that he had
no further hope. I could not believe such horrors. “But the
children--the children?” I cried to him. “The children have suffered the
same fate as their parents. There is not a shadow of doubt in my mind on
that point.” “But the bodies?” “The clearing must be searched; that is
where we shall find the key to the mystery, for the Bolsheviks cannot
have spent three days and nights here simply to burn a few clothes.”
Alas! these conclusions were soon to be borne out by the deposition of
one of the principal murderers, Paul Medvedief, who had just been taken
prisoner at Perm. As Sokolof was at Omsk it was Serguéief who
interrogated him on February 25th at Ekaterinburg. He admitted formally
that the Czar, Czarina and the five children, Dr. Botkin, and the three
servants had been killed in the basement of Ipatief’s house during the
night of July 16th-17th. He could not, however, or would not, give any
hint as to what had been done with the bodies after the murder.
I worked for several days with M. Sokolof; then he left for Ekaterinburg
to continue the enquiry opened by Serguéief.
In April, General Ditériks, who was returning from Vladivostok--where he
had been sent by Admiral Koltchak on a special mission--came to join him
and assist his efforts. Thenceforward the enquiry made rapid progress.
Hundreds of persons were interrogated, and, as soon as the snow had
gone, work was begun on a large scale in the clearing in which the
Koptiaki peasants had found articles belonging to the Imperial family.
The mine-shaft was emptied and thoroughly examined. The ashes and soil
of part of the clearing were passed through sieves, and the whole of the
surrounding area carefully examined. They succeeded in determining the
site of two large fires and, more vaguely, the traces of a third. This
methodical research soon brought discoveries of extreme importance.
Devoting himself wholeheartedly to the work he had undertaken, and
displaying untiring patience and diligence, M. Sokolof was able in a few
months to reconstruct every circumstance of the crime with remarkable
accuracy.