CHAPTER V
The abdication of Nicholas II. was but one of the acts of a drama the end of which is awaited with anxiety not only in Russia, but in the whole of the world. Like everything else that he had ever done, it was not performed in time, and it was badly executed. His own selfishness, together with that of his wife, had brought about catastrophes which it would have been relatively easy to avoid, by displaying a small amount of political tact, good sense, and knowledge of the real requirements of the Russian people. If the Czar had only been able to render to himself an account of all that was going on around him, he would in the interest of his dynasty have given up his son to the care of the nation, and allowed him to take his place under the regency of the Grand Duke Michael. This would have left Russia with a Czar, and not allowed the people to see that they could very well exist without one, which, as events have proved, has not been a particularly lucky experience for them. This would also have ensured to Nicholas II. his own liberty, because it is not likely that the Grand Duke Michael would have had his brother and sister-in-law imprisoned. But neither the dispossessed Monarch nor Alexandra Feodorovna were characters able to rise to any heights of unselfishness. She had not the faintest knowledge of the duties imposed upon her by her position as Empress of Russia, and when she was placed between the alternative of seeing her husband dethroned, or being compelled to give up his crown to their child, she suggested a third one; that of substituting for the latter his uncle, because she thought it would be easier for her later on to overturn him than an Emperor who owned her for a mother; and that she already contemplated the eventuality of a protest on the part of Nicholas II. against the abdication to which he had been compelled is a fact that can hardly be denied.
Copyright, Underwood & Underwood, N. Y.
Bolsheviki Sailors Buried at Moscow
On the other hand the Grand Duke Michael could not have refused to act as Regent for his nephew, though it was, in a certain sense, natural for him to show some hesitation in accepting over the head of his brother, and of his brother’s son, the crown of their common ancestors. Personally the young Grand Duke did not care for power or for honours, and the fact that he was married to a lady not belonging to any royal house made it easier for him to resign himself to go on for the rest of his existence living as a very rich private gentleman, which he had done for a number of years. Pressure was also brought to bear upon him, in the sense that he was told by persons interested in his not accepting the throne that if the Constitutive Assembly which it was proposed to call together, would elect him as Emperor, it would put him later on in an easier position in regard to his nephew, the little Grand Duke Alexis, and perhaps even allow him to secure the possession of his empire to his own children after him. All these considerations put together decided him not to avail himself of the immediate opportunity which lay before him, of becoming the Czar of All the Russias, and his proclamation on the subject may have been a wise one from a personal point of view; it was, however, disastrous as regarded the future fate of the dynasty, and it is doubtful now whether it will ever be possible for a Romanoff to reign again in Russia.
The men who had made the Revolution were but too well aware of this fact, and they proceeded, immediately after this act of Renunciation, to organise the government of the country on the new lines which they hoped and wished to follow in the future. Their lead was followed by the nation with an enthusiasm which was so intense that it is no wonder it came to collapse so soon as was the case. Russia seemed to have been seized with a perfect frenzy; she was like a man who after having been unjustly imprisoned for years does not know what to make of his newly acquired freedom. People were literally mad with joy, and inclined to find that everything their new government wished to do was right. Hardly a voice of discontent arose during these first weeks that followed upon the abdication of Nicholas II., and this absolution, which was granted beforehand to the Ministry that had taken into its hands the direction of the affairs of the country, allowed the men at the head of it to decide the fate of the Sovereign whom they had helped to overthrow, in a manner perhaps different from what would have been done under other circumstances.
The Czar, after having parted from Mr. Goutschkoff and Mr. Schoulguine at Pskov, and seen them leave with his abdication for Petrograd, proceeded himself in his own special train to Mohilew, where the headquarters of the army were established. It is not easy to understand the reasons which induced him to do it. Perhaps he thought he would be in greater safety among the troops that had owned him as a chief but the day before than anywhere else. At that time he had not the slightest inkling of the treason of General Alexieieff, and he might have nursed the vague thought that the latter might lend himself to another effort to subdue the revolutionary movement which had seized hold so rapidly of the whole country. Others say that he wished to bid good-bye to his army before returning to Tsarskoie Selo to join his wife and family. The real motive of his determination has, however, not been ascertained so far, though the rumours going about at the time would have it that he had been invited to repair to headquarters by Alexieieff, who thought that it would be easier for him to keep his former Sovereign a prisoner there than anywhere else, until the moment when the new government should have decided as to what was to be done with him. That something of the kind must have been in his mind can be deduced from the fact that from the day of the return of Nicholas II. at Mohilew he was no longer allowed to see any of the officers of the Staff, or those attached to headquarters, and that the only person who visited him twice a day, as if to assure himself that he was still there, was General Alexieieff himself, and this only for a few minutes. It was also the general who insisted on both Count Fredericks, formerly Minister of the Imperial household, and General Voyeikoff, the head of the Okhrana, or personal police guard of the Czar, being sent away from Mohilew. He explained his request by saying that these two gentlemen were looked upon with such inimical feelings by the garrison and officers stationed at Mohilew, that he could not answer for their safety were they to remain near the Emperor. In consequence of this warning both of them left for Petrograd, but on their way thither were arrested, and conveyed under escort to the fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul, from whence Count Fredericks in view of his advanced age (he is over eighty), and of the precarious state of his health, was transferred to the Evangelical hospital. General Voyeikoff having been invited to tear off the initials of Nicholas II. from his epaulettes, proudly refused to do so, and declared that he had rather take off these epaulettes altogether. He was the only one who did not consent to submit to the orders of the government in that respect, all the other members of Nicholas II.’s military household having shown themselves but too eager to do it, General Roussky divesting himself of his aiguillettes five minutes after the Emperor had handed over his abdication to the Delegates sent by the Duma to require it from him.
The unfortunate Monarch returned to Mohilew from Pskov on the 17th of March. On the next day arrived there by special train his mother, the Dowager Empress Marie, who, upon hearing of the misfortunes that had befallen her son, had hastened to his side. Their relations had been more than strained for a long time, thanks to the intrigues of the Empress Alexandra, but in those moments of agony the mother’s heart forgot aught else save that her child was in trouble, and she rushed to him to try at least to help him by her presence to bear it. Nicholas II. felt the nobility of this conduct, and the few days which he spent with Marie Feodorovna did away with much of the bitterness that had presided at their intercourse with each other for some time. But what they must have been for the widowed Empress it would be hardly possible to imagine. She understood but too well, if he did not, the perils which awaited her son in the future, and the contrast which his reign had presented with that of his father must have filled her soul with agony and distress. Fate proved itself indeed hard for this noble woman, because it inflicted upon her that last, supreme sorrow, of seeing, before her train carried her back to this town of Kieff which she had made her home for the last two years, Nicholas II. taken away a captive to that palace that was to know him no longer for its master.