The Last Days of the Romanovs

by N. Sokolov

I saw them in the house when they passed to the toilet room, or went for a walk in the garden, as well as during the walk itself. They passed near the commandant’s room and close to post number one as they went to the toilet room. They could also go to the toilet room through the kitchen. I don’t know the reason, but they never did it. If the heir was not with them, they used to go for their walk by the staircase that led down from the toilet room, through the lobby that led into the yard and from the yard to the garden. Sometimes when the heir went with them to walk they all went through the main entrance of the house to the street, then through the gate (and not the wicket) to the yard, and then to the garden. He was probably ill and he was carried out to his roller chair, which was brought up to the main entrance. The czar used to carry him personally. I never saw him carried by anyone else.

Personally I could not observe the attitude of other people towards the emperor and his family, though I watched Avdeieff, who had to deal with them. Avdeieff was a rough and uncouth man and a drunkard; his soul was not kind. If on any occasion during the absence of Avdeieff any member of the imperial family asked Moshkin for a favour, he always used to answer that they would have to wait the return of Avdeieff. When Avdeieff returned and their plea was made to him, Avdeieff’s answer was: “Let them go to hell.” Sometimes returning from the imperial family’s room, Avdeieff used to say that they asked him for something or another and he refused. Apparently the process of refusal gave him much pleasure. He spoke about it, looking very happy. For example, I remember that he was asked once for permission to open the windows—telling us about it, he said that he forbade it. I can not say how he addressed the czar, but in the commandant’s room he referred to the imperial family as: “They”; the czar he used to call “Nikolashka.” I have told you already that as soon as he got into the house he began to bring in his favourite workmen, who moved into the house altogether, after being discharged from the committee and soviet. All those people had a merry time with Avdeieff in the Ipatieff house. They drank and stole the emperor’s belongings. Once Avdeieff got so tight that he fell in one of the lower rooms of the house. At the same time Beloborodoff arrived and called for him. Someone of Avdeieff’s favourites lied to Beloborodoff that Avdeieff had gone out of the house. It appeared that he fell drunk in the lower floor directly after he had visited the imperial family, whom he went to see in that state. The drunkards made a great noise in the commandant’s room; they shouted, slept one on the other as they toppled over and were very dirty in their habits. The songs they chose for their singing, of course, could not have been agreeable to the czar. They all sang: “You fell as a victim in the struggle,” “Let us forget the old world,” “Get cheerfully in step, comrades.” Oukrainzeff could play the piano which was in the commandant’s room and accompany the singers. Knowing Avdeieff was a Bolshevik and also a harsh man, who was always drunk, I believe that he treated the imperial family badly. He could not treat them well, as it was against his nature and behaviour. After I watched him in the commandant’s room I believed the way he treated the imperial family was insulting. I also remember that Avdeieff spoke with his friends about Rasputin. He spoke about the same things which other people discussed and which were written a number of times in the newspapers.

Not a single time did I speak with the czar or anyone of his family. I met them only occasionally, and we never spoke. Only once I saw and heard the czar speaking to Moshkin. They were walking in the garden. The czar walked in the garden. Moshkin sat in the garden on a bench. The czar approached him and said something about the weather.

Though I did not speak when I met them I still got an impression, that entered my soul, of all of them. The czar was not young any more; he had grey hair in his beard. I have seen him wearing a “gimnasterka” (soldier’s shirt), an officer’s belt, with a buckle, around his waist. The buckle was yellow and the belt was yellow, not of a light yellow color, but of a dark one. The color of the gimnasterka was khaki. His trousers were the same colour and he had old worn-out boots. His eyes were kind and he had altogether a kind expression. I got the impression he was a kind, modest, frank and talkative person. Sometimes I felt that he would speak to me right away. He looked as if he would like to talk with any one of us.

The czaritza was not a bit like him. Her look was severe. She had the appearance and manners of a haughty and grave woman. Sometimes we used to speak about them amongst ourselves, and we all thought that Nicholas Alexandrovitch was a modest man, but that she was different and looked exactly like a czaritza. She seemed older than he was. There was grey hair on her temples and her face was not the face of a young woman. He looked younger when they were together. I can not describe the way she used to dress.

Tatiana looked like the czaritza. She had the same serious and haughty look as her mother. The other daughters: Olga, Maria and Anastasia, had no haughtiness about them. One had the impression that they were modest and kind. I also can not describe the way they dressed, as I did not notice it.

The czarevitch was sick all the time. I can tell you nothing about him. The czar used to carry him up to his roller chair, and there he lay covered with a blanket. I cannot describe his clothes either.

I thought a great deal about the czar after I stayed a certain time amongst the guards. After I personally saw them several times I began to feel entirely different towards them: I began to pity them. I pitied them as human beings. I tell you the entire truth. You may believe me or not. I had the idea in my head to let them escape, or to do something to allow them to escape. I did not tell anybody about this, but I had an idea to tell it to Dr. Derevenko, who visited them at that time, but I was doubtful of him. I can not tell you why I was doubtful. I just thought: “I don’t know what type of man he is.” When he left them his face did not express anything, and he never spoke a single word about them, so I got doubtful. I am relating to you the exact truth. I had in my head the thoughts I am expressing now. Previously, when I first entered into the guards, I did not see them and did not know them. I was also a little guilty before them. When Avdeieff and the “Tovaristchy” (comrades) used to sing the revolutionary songs, I also used to join a little in the chorus, but after I learned how the matter stood, I stopped it and all of us, or if not all then a great number, condemned Avdeieff for his behaviour.

In the time of Iourovsky we were not allowed into the house. I never used to stay longer than necessary in the commandant’s room, as I did during the days of Avdeieff. Whenever a bell rang (an electric bell was connected with the commandant’s room and Popoff’s house), one used to come to the commandant’s room, get an order and immediately retire. We seniors did not have to go to the commandant’s room to answer the bell ring. It was always Medvedeff who went and we were asked for through him. Iourovsky was always with Nikoulin; Medvedeff also made his best efforts to be in their company. The Letts from the Tchresvytchayka were also near to them. That is why I can not describe to you how Iourovsky felt about the czar. Avdeieff was nearer to us, as he was the same sort we were—a workman, and he lived with us. Iourovsky behaved himself like a chief and did not let us in the house.

I can only say that immediately after he got in command of the house he mounted a machine gun in the attic and established a new post in the rear yard. He stopped all drunkenness and I never saw him drunk or intoxicated. Nikoulin was visited by a girl whose name was “Seveleva” but she was never let into the commandant’s room. But on one occasion Iourovsky either changed or forbade altogether the donation of the nuns to the imperial family; he did something that made the position of the imperial family worse, but what he changed or forbade, I do not remember. Something that I could not understand happened also in regard to the priest. As I remember, in the time of Iourovsky there was only one divine service. I was called by Iourovsky, who ordered me to get “any” priest. At first he asked me who were the priests that officiated. I named Father Meledin and Father Storogeff. After that he ordered me to get one of them. As Father Meledin happened to be the nearest, I called him up the same day, on Saturday evening. In the evening I told Iourovsky that I called up Meledin. Next day, in the morning, Iourovsky called me up and again asked me the name of the priest I had told to come. I answered that I called up Father Meledin. Hearing that, Iourovsky asked me: “Is that the one who lives on the Vodotchnaya in the place where Dr. Tchernavin lives?” I answered that it was the same one, after which Iourovsky sent me to inform Meledin that he should not come. “Go and tell Meledin that there won’t be any service, service is postponed. If he should ask you who postponed the service, you will say that they did it and not myself. Instead of Meledin, fetch Storogeff.” Well, I went to Meledin and told him there would be no service. He asked me why? I answered in the way I was ordered by Iourovsky: that “they” postponed it. Directly after I went to Storogeff and asked him to come. What the reason was for all that, and why Iourovsky preferred Storogeff to Meledin, I don’t know. Towards me also he acted very arbitrarily, neglecting the desires of the men. On July 12th the men elected me instead of Medvedeff to be chief. On Sunday, July 14th, I returned after my leave later than it was allowed, so Iourovsky dismissed me and appointed Medvedeff instead to be chief. So it continued till the end.