It was evident that such a state of things could not go on indefinitely. There were still some persons left who hoped to be able to save the dynasty by removing its principal enemy, the unscrupulous peasant who had tarnished its prestige. A plot, into which entered different persons belonging to the highest aristocracy of the land as well as some members of the Imperial family, was arranged, and culminated, as I have already related, in the murder of Rasputin. All this has been told, but what has not yet been written is the manner in which the news of the assassination of her favourite was received by the Empress. At first her despair was pitiable to behold, then she quickly rallied, and getting back her energy, proceeded to avenge her murdered friend. The Czar was at Headquarters, and she happened to find herself alone with her children at Tsarskoie Selo. She sent for one of her husband’s aide de camps, General Maximovitsch, and commanded him to proceed immediately to Petrograd, and to arrest the Grand Duke Dmitry Pavlovitsch, allowing him, however, to remain in his own palace, but with strict orders not to leave it, even for a short walk. The whole Imperial family protested, but it was of no avail. Mr. Protopopoff was on the side of the Czarina, and he alone was in command of the police forces of the capital. Any thought of resistance was out of the question. The hated minister would not have hesitated to proceed, even against the relatives of his Sovereign, to gratify the revengeful feelings of Alexandra Feodorovna.
How vindictive the latter showed herself to be can be seen out of the severity of the punishments which, at her instigation, were showered upon all those who had taken part in the conspiracy to which Rasputin had fallen a victim. Prince Youssoupoff, with his wife, was exiled in one of his properties in the government of Koursk, and the young Grand Duke Dmitry was ordered to proceed to the front in Persia, which, considering his delicate state of health, was tantamount to a death sentence. When this became known, the whole of the Imperial family wrote to the Czar in the following terms:
“May it please Your Majesty, we, whose signatures you will find at the bottom of this letter, urgently and strongly beg of you to reconsider your decision in regard to the Grand Duke Dmitry Pavlovitsch, and show him some leniency. We know for a fact that he is physically ill, and morally broken down. You have been his guardian in his youth, and you are aware of the deep feelings of affection and of respect that he has always entertained in regard to you, and to our Fatherland. We implore Your Majesty in view of his youth, and of the precarious state of his health, to allow him to repair either to his own estate of Oussoff, or else to Vilensky.
“Your Majesty is probably aware of the terrible conditions in which our army finds itself placed in Persia at the present moment, and of the many illnesses and epidemics of all kinds that are raging there. To expose the Grand Duke to those dangers is simply compassing his ruin, because he can only come out of such a trial a physical and moral wreck, and surely the kind heart of Your Majesty will take pity on a youth for whom you have had some affection in the past, and in regard to whom you have always shown yourself a kind father. We pray to God to soften the feelings of Your Majesty, and to induce you to alter your decision, and to show some mercy to your own kinsman.”
To this letter was received on the next day the following reply:
“No one has the right to commit a murder. I am aware that many people are suffering now from qualms of conscience, because it is not only Dmitry Pavlovitsch who is mixed up in this business. I am surprised at your daring to address me in such terms. Nicholas.”
The Grand Duke had to submit. He departed for the Persian front, accompanied by an officer who had received strict orders to oppose any attempt that he might feel tempted to make, in order to escape his doom. A curious incident, very characteristic of the state of mind prevailing in the capital at that time, then occurred. The comrades of this officer, upon hearing of his appointment, obliged him to resign his commission, considering that he had disgraced himself by accepting such a mission.
In the meanwhile the body of Rasputin was taken at night to Tsarskoie Selo and buried in a small chapel which had been erected some years before by the Empress, quite close to the palace which she inhabited. Troops surrounded it so as to prevent any one getting near to it, whilst the ceremony lasted, and the funeral was attended by the Emperor, the Empress, and the intimate friend of the latter, Madame Vyroubieva. Alexandra Feodorovna used to go every afternoon to pray on the grave of the man whose influence had proved her bane, until at last the Revolution imprisoned her, and threw to the winds the ashes of the greatest enemy that the dynasty of the Romanoff’s had ever known. When the body was exhumed by the angry populace, one found on its breast a sacred image, bearing the names of the Empress, and of her three daughters, last memento of an affection which had proved so fatal to those who had nursed it.
The murder of Rasputin had one very clear and definite object, that of ridding the Czar of an individual who had sullied his honour. Those who were courageous enough to send him into eternity had nursed the hope that once this evil influence had disappeared, the counsels of wisdom would prevail, and Nicholas II. might be at last brought to understand that his duty required of him to look bravely into the face of the situation in which he had been thrown together with the Empire over which he ruled. Until that time, no one had been able to talk seriously with him, with hopes of being listened to. The Emperor had acquired the habit of never giving an immediate reply to any proposition that was submitted to him, but deferred his decisions, in order to discuss them first with the Empress, who in her turn consulted her favourites Sturmer and Protopopoff, who had taken to a certain extent the place left empty by Rasputin’s disappearance. They were all of them working together towards the conclusion of a separate peace with Germany, because they believed that if once this were achieved they would be able to recall the army from the front, and to use it against the Duma and the nation, establishing with its help upon a sounder and firmer base their own power and might. None among them gave a thought to the possibility that the troops might practise with the people, and work together with it towards the downfall of the government and of the dynasty.
This desire of the Empress to bring about, no matter at what cost, the ending of the war, was suspected by a good many people. A few officers in possession of important commands had an inkling of it, and the leaders of the labour party had also heard about it. The last named, who had worked more than any other class of the nation for the continuation of the struggle in the material sense of the word, and who wanted to avenge their sons fallen before the enemy, became anxious at the possibility of such a peace being concluded; and very distinct threats were uttered not only in Petrograd, but all over Russia, against the Ministers, the Emperor, and especially the Empress. This explains, apart from other reasons, why the murder of Rasputin was hailed with such joy. One hoped that his removal would put an end to a state of things out of which could only result disaster, shame and misfortune.