There were, however, some persons who, seeing the dangers in the path in which this nefarious individual was leading Russia, decided that, as nothing else could bring about his removal, it had to be effected by violent means. I do not seek to excuse them, far less to take their part. Murder remains murder, but if ever an assassination had an excuse, this was the slaying of Rasputin, which also implied the destruction of the crew of unscrupulous people of which he was the tool. There was something of self-sacrifice in the conspiracy to which he fell a victim, something of an intense love of the Fatherland in the spirit that armed the hand of the man whose pistol sent him into eternity. One may condemn the deed and yet excuse its motive. Though I am not trying to do so, yet I shall not be the one to cry out for vengeance against the over-excited young people who risked everything in the world to deliver their country from evil.
Of the details of the murder we know very little, and even the travellers who have gone abroad since it was committed could only speak vaguely about the circumstances that attended it. It is certain, however, that there was a deeply laid and well organised plot to kill the “Prophet,” that about a dozen persons, some of them belonging to the best and to the highest social circles, were concerned in it, and that at last lots were drawn to select the man who was to execute the victim. Among those persons were members of the Conservative faction of the Duma, some officers of several guard regiments, and even ladies of the smartest set of Petrograd. That something was known concerning this plot in governmental circles can be seen from the fact that the Minister of the Interior, Mr. Protopopoff, who had always been one of the most ardent disciples of Rasputin and who had been working with him for the conclusion of a peace which both considered to be useful to their personal interests, hearing that he was going to have supper at the house of Prince Youssoupoff, sent there the Prefect of Petrograd, General Balk, with instructions to watch over the “Prophet.” When the Prefect appeared upon the scene, he was politely asked by the master of the house to withdraw, as his presence was not required.
Young Prince Youssoupoff, who, by the way, is well known in London, was the husband of the Princess Irene of Russia, the first cousin of the Czar. By virtue of his position he could be whatever he liked, even to dismiss curtly the principal police official of the capital. At the supper which he gave on the night when Rasputin was killed about a dozen people belonging to the best circle of Petrograd society were present. What passed during the meal and how the murder itself was committed is not known even now, though several versions of the crime are given. Some say that it was done during the meal, and that the pretext for it was the conduct of Rasputin toward one of the ladies present at the table. Other people relate that they waited until the “Prophet” was on the point of departing, and that as he was putting on his overcoat the young man who had drawn the lot designating him for the deed shot him with his revolver at the foot of the stairs. The body was then wrapped up in a blanket and put into the automobile of a very high personage, which was waiting in the garden of the house where the event took place, and driven to the Neva, where it was dropped under the ice. It seems that after this had been accomplished one of the conspirators went to Tsarskoie Selo and informed the Czar of what had taken place, as well as of his own share in the deed.
In the meanwhile the authorities had become suspicious. At 3 o’clock in the night screams had been heard by a policeman on duty at the corner of the street in which was situated the house of Prince Youssoupoff. He also noticed several persons coming out of the house, not by the usual entrance, but by the garden, which had a door leading into another street. After this, an automobile was seen driving out of that same garden, an altogether strange circumstance. This automobile was seen by another policeman about one hour later in the islands which surround Petrograd, driving close to the Neva and not on the usual road. The next day the garden of Prince Youssoupoff was searched by Secret Service agents, who found some traces of blood on the snow, but the servants of the Prince declared that it was that of a dog that had been shot the day before. No one dared say or do anything more against the supposed murderers, especially as the body of their victim had not yet been found. The river was dragged, but it was not until twenty-four hours after the event that the dead man was discovered under the ice in a frozen condition, with the features so completely battered that they could be recognised only with difficulty.
The curious thing is that, though it was known exactly where the body had been dropped, it could not be found at once, having been carried away by the current further than had been expected. This gave rise to all kind of rumours, and the friends of Rasputin tried to spread the news that he had escaped and was hiding away somewhere from his persecutors. The tale, however, could not be kept up for any length of time, as the whole capital with an unheard-of rapidity became aware that the most detested man in the whole of Russia had at last met with the fate which he so richly deserved. The joy of the public could not be suppressed, notwithstanding the fear of the police. In all the theatres and public places the national anthem was sung with an immense enthusiasm. No one regretted what had happened, and the people suspected of having had a hand in the murder received messages of congratulation from every quarter. In fact, they became at once national heroes. The murder so far has remained unpunished, and it is more than likely that no one will be brought to account for it.
As for the body of Rasputin, it was at first kept in the hospital where it had been taken after its recovery from under the ice. The police received orders not to allow it to be seen by the crowds, which it was feared would flock in numbers to have a last look at their “saint,” the “Blessed Gregory,” as he was called. But to the general surprise these crowds did not manifest any curiosity to view the mortal remains of the man about whom so much fuss had been made in his lifetime, but after whose death the whole Russian world seemed to breathe more freely than it had been able to do for the last ten years or so. Among the clergy satisfaction was openly expressed, and it was only a few hysterical women who were found to weep over the end of the career of one of the wickedest men who had ever lived.
The question most discussed in connection with the death of this sinister adventurer was whether he was to be allowed a Christian burial. He had been, after all, but a sectarian, a heretic, the follower of a creed which was not only reproved by the orthodox church, but also prosecuted by the law of the land. The synod was called upon to pronounce itself on the subject when the advice of the Metropolitan Pitirim of Petrograd, one of the personal friends of Rasputin, at last prevailed, and he was buried with the rites of Holy Church. Some of the ladies who had been the first cause of his having obtained the importance which grew to be attached to his strange figure did not wait, however, for the permission of the ecclesiastical authorities, and a few hours after the body had been discovered Madame W., one of the most hysterical among the many women followers of Rasputin, caused solemn prayers to be celebrated in her apartments for the repose of his soul. She went to fetch his two daughters, girls of sixteen and fourteen years of age, who were living with him at Petrograd, taking them to her house and declaring that she would henceforward consider and treat them as her own children.
But apart from this small group of blind admirers no one regretted him, not even the crew of parasites that had surrounded him and exploited him. By one of those strange anomalies, such as can only take place in Russia, Mr. Manassevitsch-Maniuloff, who had been the indirect cause of his death, was appointed, together with other secret police agents, to investigate the details connected with the murder of his former friend and patron. Of course, the inquest led to nothing. No one had any wish to see it end otherwise than in oblivion. Every political party in Russia was agreed in thinking that with the disappearance of this dangerous man the dynasty had won a battle just as important for the safety of its future existence as would have been a victory on the battlefield against a foreign foe. The names of the murderers, though pronounced nowhere, were blessed by all sincere Russian patriots, who cried out when they heard that Rasputin was no more, “Thank God that this adventurer is dead and long live the Czar!”