A story was circulated in St. Petersburg of how the American ambassador was surprised by the dissolution. According to report the ambassador’s family were at a European watering-place, where he expected presently to join them. Just previous to his departure from St. Petersburg he received a cablegram from Washington to the effect that, owing to the unsettled condition of Russia, the President would suggest that the ambassador remain in Russia through the summer. The ambassador and one of the secretaries of the embassy sat down on Sunday morning and framed a long cipher message to Washington, setting forth reasons for assurance that Russia would remain tranquil for the present. They finished writing the message early in the afternoon, and started out together to deposit it at the central telegraph office. On the way they learned that the Duma had been dissolved that morning before they had so much as begun their telegram to Washington!
Some of the members, mostly Constitutional Democrats, remembered the Tennis Court Oath of French history and had timid ambitions to do likewise. So they hastened to Viborg, in Finland, where, safe from being dispersed by Cossacks or police, they argued, deliberated, and wrangled for a week. Then the governor-general of Finland announced a state of martial law and warned the ex-deputies that the hospitality of Finland could no longer be extended to them. Eager to do something, yet not knowing what to do, they proceeded to issue a proclamation known as the
The Duma lobby
Viborg manifesto, in which they called upon the people of Russia to cease paying taxes and to refrain from sending recruits to the army and navy—in other words to become utterly disregardful of all law emanating from any other source than a representative body chosen by the people. The Viborg manifesto was a silly blunder, and no more effective than a blank shell. It showed that eminent academicians, brilliant writers, and earnest patriots do not always make clever statesmen.
The government forbade the circulation of the Viborg manifesto, but otherwise paid little attention to the step. Every signer was put under the ban, and it was only a short time after that of the members of the first Duma one had been murdered, one gone insane, two cruelly beaten, ten were in hiding, five were exiled, twenty-four in prison, thirty-three had been arrested and searched, and one hundred and eighty-two placed under indictment on the charge of treason.
Shortly after the dissolution a second Duma was announced, to be chosen under very much more restricted voting conditions, and to meet early in the following year.