To the question that arises why the revolution, which was expected after the war, came off before its conclusion, the answer is that the present revolution was not planned nor desired by any one of importance; it came as a surprise to all. It just happened. If some one must have the credit or blame, it is Protopopov who was at the time suspected of being queer mentally and who has since lost his reason entirely. He was so sure of himself and of his ability to put down the uprising and thereby show himself a real statesman that he concluded not to wait for the revolution to come in the ordinary course of events, but to hurry it a bit. Although there is no conclusive proof for this statement, there is plenty of convincing circumstantial evidence. We know that it was proposed to have the workmen of Petrograd strike on February 27, the day of the opening of the Duma, as a protest against the government; we know also that to meet this situation, the Minister of the Interior had placed machine guns in the garrets, in steeples, on housetops, and other such places where they could command the important streets and shoot down the mob. The rising did not take place because Miliukov, the great liberal leader, learned that the Government was behind this move and that preparations had been made to slaughter the unsuspecting workmen. He, therefore, addressed them in an open letter calling on them not to make any demonstration, and they did not. For the time being the strike was off, but the air was full of discontent and restlessness, and it was difficult to say when trouble would break out again. With this in view, a number of representatives of various organizations met to discuss the situation and to determine what attitude they should take and what counsel they should give to the labor leaders. Miliukov and a few others urged that all uprisings should be discouraged because they would interfere with the war, would cost the lives of many innocent persons, and would accomplish nothing. There were, however, others, especially Anisimov, who argued strongly in favor of a strike, saying that this was the opportune time to overthrow the present regime and to establish a democratic government.[FN: I have this story from Miliukov.] When the revolution came off and the papers of the secret police were seized, it was discovered that Anisimov, who urged the revolt, was the paid agent of the Government and was doubtless doing its bidding. This shows that the Government instigated and abetted the uprising. But this is not all the evidence. Between February 27 and the outbreak of the revolution men impersonating Miliukov went to the factories, calling on the workmen to rise against the Government.[FN: I have this story from Miliukov.] There is still another bit of evidence. In order to give the laboring classes cause for revolt, the food supply in the factory districts was reduced and many people suffered from hunger and in their desperation came out into the streets. During the revolutionary week little, if any, food came in, but immediately after it the soldiers found 250,000 "puds" of flour, [FN: Russkaia Svoboda, 1917. No. 3, p. 24.] enough to last Petrograd ten days, meat, besides other food hidden in police stations and elsewhere out of reach of the public. It has been said that the Government instigated the uprising in order to bring about a separate peace with Germany. No direct proof has as yet been produced to substantiate this charge, and the only testimony that I have bearing on this case is the statement made by commander-in-chief Alexeiev in a confidential interview with a journalist already quoted. [FN: There is not the least bit of evidence to show that the Emperor himself was mixed up in these intrigues. Among the papers of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs there is but one document that throws any light on the question of a separate peace during the time of the monarchy. It is a letter from the minister of the German Court to the minister of the Russian Court insinuating a separate peace. This letter was shown, as was intended, to the Tsar, who read it, put it aside, and did not answer it. This, however, does not mean that Sturmer, Protopopov and the clique of the Empress were not planning to bring about a situation which would compel a separate peace.]
These four points—the encouragement of a revolt by the secret agents, the impersonation of Miliukov, the concealment of food in the factory districts, the desire of a separate peace with Germany—make out a fairly good case to show that the Government was behind the disturbance. Aside from the reason already given for the desire of a separate peace, the other reason for the action of the ministry was this: It feared that the revolutionary movement, if permitted to take its natural course, would develop such strength that it could not be put down when it broke out, and, therefore, the Minister of the Interior decided to take it in hand and at the right moment crush it with such force that it would be a long time before it could raise its head again. Before it was over he hoped to drag in prominent members of the Duma (or the Duma itself) and other revolutionary leaders, and make an end of them. This plan need not astonish us, for this method, in one form or another, had been made use of by the autocracy time and again. Protopopov overreached himself, his scheme miscarried, the soldiers about the capital went back on him, and the little comedy that he had staged in which he was to play the leading part became a tragedy and the shot which was intended for the revolution hit his royal master and brought autocracy to the ground. In view of the fact that Protopopov has since become insane, one wonders whether the man was mentally well balanced at the time that he was in office. But the Tsar has only himself to blame for his plight; he was warned against this nominee of Rasputin, but he would not take advice.
Early in the week of March 5-12, 1917, the trouble began in the factory districts. There were bread riots, car stoning, window smashing, and other such acts, which are more or less common and no one paid much attention to them. On Thursday, the disturbances spread to other parts of the city and crowds began to gather on the Nevski, but the throng was orderly and the police seemed to have little difficulty in keeping it on the move. Friday the crowd was more bold: it marched up and down the streets, calling for bread, singing revolutionary songs, and occasionally waving a red flag and quickly snatching it back again. This, too, did not make much impression for it is well known that in Russia strikes and disturbances have in view political as well as economic betterment. Late Friday afternoon, while I was walking on the Nevski, a company of mounted police and a large number of Cossacks dashed by on the way to disperse a procession that was coming towards me. When I came up to the Fontanka Bridge I noticed the crowd was gathered about the Cossacks; it patted the horses and cheered their riders, while the police were nowhere in sight. I listened to what was being said and heard that the police tried to use their whips and swords on the people and this angered the Cossacks so much that they attacked the police, killed the captain, and drove them all away. It was no secret that there was bad blood between the soldiers and the police; the former complained that while they were suffering and fighting at the front, the latter were having an easy time, enriching themselves by graft, and oppressing the soldiers' families. The soldiers and the strikers started out with one idea—hatred of the police. When the police had been dispersed, the Cossacks and soldiers begged the people to move on, but they, especially the young women students who were numerous, went up to them and pleaded with them to espouse their cause. "Comrades," they would say, "come over on our side, our cause is your cause." The rough, ignorant warriors were disturbed; they did not like their jobs, and in a kindly way begged the men and women to go home, but, as it did no good, for they massed again, the Cossacks rode in a body into their midst and kept turning and turning until the crowd was forced from the street onto the sidewalk. In the meantime, another company of Cossacks formed a line across the street, from wall to wall, and swept everybody before it into stores, courtyards, and other openings. Even this did not do much good, for as soon as the horsemen passed, the mob fell in behind and cheered the Cossacks. There was no roughness, but at the same time it was easy to see that the crowd did not yet know to what extent the army could be trusted.
By Saturday the inhabitants of the city began to feel the effect of the disorder; cars were not running, telephones were barely working, factories and shops were closed, banks and stores were locked, there was little to eat, for the only provision on hand was water; every one who could filled the tubs for fear the water mains would be blown up. The crowd on the streets was larger than ever, more red flags were in evidence, but all this failed to give the impression of a revolution. Such demonstrations had been seen before; revolutionary talk was cheap and was not taken seriously. As on the day before, the soldiers and Cossacks tried by gentle means to disperse the crowd, but failed, for the men and women in the crowd complained that they were hungry and pleaded with the military for the sake of their own families to stand by the people. It was easy to see that these guardians of the peace were in trouble, they knew that every word said was true, and what was more to the purpose, members of their own families were in the crowd. An officer who was sent with his company to shoot on the people told how that same morning his own sister took part in the demonstration and called for bread for her children. This was no exceptional case. But as soldiers they must do their duty and keep order. Realizing that the stratagems of the day before failed in their purpose, the Cossacks tried other tactics on this day. They fell behind the procession, and discharged their pistols in the air and dashed at full speed into the mob. Woe unto him who did not get out of the way. But they all did; in a second there was not a person on the street. It is still a wonder how it was all done so quickly. As soon as the horsemen passed, the crowd dropped behind them and raising their hats cheered them. "Comrades," they said, "come over to us, you know that the government is bad, you know how the soldiers have been killed through its incompetency, you know that our wives and children are hungry," and more such pleas. The Cossacks and the other soldiers who tried to keep order were caught, they begged the crowd to break up and go home, they pointed out that they had to do their duty and that somebody might get hurt. It was reported that in some places the soldiers did fire and kill several persons. During Saturday, men were sent, it is not clear by whom, to the different factories to persuade the workers to join in a great demonstration on Sunday. The military commander of the city telegraphed to the Emperor for orders and the latter sent word to shoot, if necessary, and to put down the uprising at any cost, and that accounts for the posters that were put up on Sunday morning warning the inhabitants not to gather in the streets because the soldiers would shoot to kill. This had happened before and was no joke, and many people would not leave their homes that day. Those who did had to walk; there was no other way of getting about. Few people, on the whole, were on the street that morning aside from the soldiers and Cossacks who were guarding the bridges and keeping an eye out for disturbances. After luncheon I started to make a call and as I passed the barracks of the Volynski regiment, situated near where I lived, I saw a company of soldiers lined up, heard the command to load, to shoulder arms, to march, and off they went to the Nevski. I followed them for a distance and then turned aside and went my way. In returning I had to cross the Nevski and found that all avenues thither were guarded and that no one was allowed to go in that direction. I managed, however, by showing my American passport, to get through the line and reach the street. Excited people were moving up and down and from them I learned that about three o'clock a number of people forced their way to the Nevski and were fired upon by the soldiers and the machine guns that were concealed. Among the killed of the day was a captain of police who was knocked down by a Cossack.
Sunday night was full of excitement and fear and there were not many who slept soundly. Firing was heard at different times but what it portended, none of us could tell. It became evident that the situation was becoming serious, yet we all felt that the Government could handle it. When I went out on the street Monday morning, the first thing I saw was the placard of the military commander announcing that unless the workmen went to the shops, they would be sent to the front the following day. Groups of people were talking excitedly and from them I learned that the Volynski regiment had revolted and had killed its officers, because the day before they had commanded the soldiers to shoot on the people. It seems that the soldiers returned home much excited over their deed and full of remorse. In the course of the night some of the revolutionary soldiers from the city upbraided them and they were greatly incensed with their officers and the Government. They, as well as other regiments, were particularly worked up over the report that hirelings of the secret police dressed in soldiers' uniforms went about firing on the crowd and that the new recruits, under penalty of death, were commanded to shoot on the people in the streets. When in the morning the officers congratulated the men on their deed of yesterday, they jumped on them and murdered them. I heard that other regiments had also revolted; but there were so many rumors afloat that it was not easy to know what to believe. About four in the afternoon, I started for home and found the Nevski full of frightened and nervous people, and hardly any soldiers. No one seemed to know what to expect. Sounds of shooting were heard and they were explained as the battle between the regiments that had revolted and those that had remained loyal. In the distance columns of smoke were seen and report had it that palaces were burning. Again it was difficult to know the truth. As I proceeded on my way, I was joined by the little minister of the British American Church, where I had attended services the day before, where he had prayed fervently for the Tsar and his family and asked God to put down the anarchists, and other lawless men. We were discussing the situation, not knowing exactly what to make of it. Perhaps the word revolution passed our lips but neither of us nor those about us took it seriously. Near the Liteiny a gate opened and about two dozen armed soldiers led by a petty officer stepped out and marched towards the center of the street. Immediately the crowd, excited and scared, scattered and ran for their lives but the soldiers motioned for them to stop and told them that they would not shoot. We left them, and proceeded on our way, trying as before to interpret what we saw. While in the midst of our discussion we were struck by a new and unfamiliar sound—tra-ta-ta, tra-ta-ta, and we instinctively knew that a machine gun was firing. In a flash the streets were cleared and my minister and I found ourselves sticking like posters against the wall. It was my first "baptism of fire" and I had enough presence of mind to observe its effect upon myself and others. Physically there was no effect for no one seemed hit. I tried to locate the gun and the man behind it, but did not succeed. When the firing ceased, I went on my way. As I neared the Nicholas station, there came rushing forth from around the corner a crowd of hoodlums and soldiers, with drawn swords, which they had taken from the officers, and such other weapons as they could pick up, shouting, "Down with the Government!" Then it dawned upon me that the revolution was on in earnest, that the anarchists of yesterday's prayer had become the heroes of a great cause. What struck me most of all was the kind of men and women who made this world event. I watched them during the week, and they seemed to be in great part boys and girls, hoodlums, students, poorly dressed men and women, without organization, plans, or leaders. It is difficult to analyze the various motives that brought them out into the street. Not one of the so-called revolutionists was seen, heard, shot, or wounded. When it was all over they appeared on the scene, rushing from Switzerland, the United States, France, and other parts of the world, to make speeches and to divide the spoils. It was a revolution without revolutionists, unless you call the soldiers that, but they were not consciously making a revolution, and when it was done, they were thoroughly surprised and frightened. There are a number of reasons why the Government collapsed so easily. It was not really overthrown but it toppled over like a rotten tree, and until it fell, the people did not realize how decayed it actually was. Its misconduct of the war, scandals like that of Rasputin, ministers such as Protopopov discredited and disgraced the dynasty and when the end came, it had few friends who shed tears.
Another important factor in helping the revolution was the large number of students and liberals who served in the army. To fill the ranks and to provide educated men for officers, it was necessary to call on university students, experts in various fields of engineering, all of whom, more or less, desired a liberal government. These men worked among the soldiers and officers with a view to creating a feeling of distrust in the Emperor, and the Government, and its incompetence and corruption gave plenty of material for the propagandists. Loyalty to the dynasty was undermined and as soon as one prop was removed, as soon as one company of soldiers went over, the others followed and the whole edifice came tumbling down.
Still another factor was the large number of new recruits that were stationed in the capital; they were as yet not well disciplined, obedience had not yet become a second nature to them. Many of them had come from the factories, some of them were personally acquainted with the men and women who were in the demonstrations and therefore would not fire on them. Had there been at the time in the city three or four old and well-disciplined regiments, or had the Cossacks who were on hand not interfered with the police, the uprising would have been crushed quickly and effectively as similar affairs had been before.
Yet one other factor contributed to the success of the revolution and that was the over-confidence of the Government. The soldiers had been loyal until now and it never occurred to those in power that they might not always be so. They made no special preparations other than placing machine guns on roofs. They did not even make use of the armored cars. When they realized that the army in the city could not be trusted, they called for troops from the front but they came too late.
From the point of view of the monarchy it was unfortunate that Protopopov sent the Emperor to the front after having secured from him a signed blank to dismiss the Duma; for if the Tsar had been at Tsarskoe Selo, he might have been prevailed upon to make some concessions and saved the dynasty for a time at least.
By Tuesday morning, March 13, the revolution was generally accepted as a fait accompli; it was believed that the old despotism was gone never to return. This was followed by an outburst of idealism and patriotism such as comes but once or twice in the life of a nation. Every Russian was bubbling over with enthusiasm over the glorious future of his country. Liberty so greatly desired, so long worked for, so much suffered for had at last come. The intelligent and persecuted Russians, they who had spent years under the shadow of the police, in prison, in exile, and in Siberia, had their day at last and they were eager to realize their Utopia. Their first demand was that all prison doors should be opened and that the oppressed the world over should be freed. The Russian Revolution was not a class revolution, it was brought about neither by the proletariat nor by the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy; all classes contributed, it was a national revolution. So worthless had the monarchy become that all the people were glad to get rid of it and see it go. They who helped to bring about its ruin were the first to deny it and seek safety; and even the Synod, in an almost unseemly haste, took out the names of the imperial family from the prayer book.