by s. shouunyan 
 

 
CONTENTS 
 
 cno.b Bolshevik smugglers, by S. Shaumyan. 
 c192-?3 
 
 cno.23 Russia freel The authorised report 
 of speeches made on 31 March, 1917, at the 
 Royal Albert Hall, London, by G-. Lansbury c and 
 others, c 1917a 
 
 c no.3a Zum Jahrestag der Proletarischen 
 Revolution in Russland, 1917-1921. cl922?n 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/pamphletsaboutru12unse 
 
s. 
 
 SHAUMYAN 
 
 BOLSHEVIK 
 
 SMUGGLERS 
 
 (An Incident in the Civil War) 
 
 INTERNATIONAL PAMPHLETS 
 799 Broadway, New York 
 
Ali Rights Reserved 
 PRINTED in USSR 
 
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 BOLSHEVIK SMUGGLERS 
 
 Petrol Starts on Its Voyage 
 
 Every drop of petrol was of great value to the Red 
 Army in 1919. The Transcaucasian party organisation, 
 hiding underground for the time being, resolved to supply 
 Soviet Russia with some quantity of petrol, however 
 small. This could he done only with the aid of sailing 
 vessels, for on land a harrier of White and semi-White 
 republics stood in the way. A sea voyage was also danger- 
 ous, for the English and Denikin’s fleet maintained 
 
 regular blockades. In order to deliver a cargo of 10 to 
 12 tons of petrol, every sailing vessel would have to break 
 through this carefully guarded zone, and some of them 
 at least would be sure to fail. 
 
 I was seventeen years old at the time, and a member 
 of the Young Communst League. It cost me a great 
 deal of effort to obtain permission to join one of the 
 ^ sailing vessels; comrades were afraid I would not be able 
 ^ to get out of secrapes as easily as a more experienced 
 ^worker. Our first effort to organise an expedition from 
 ^Batum failed, for there were too many spies in the port. 
 > The British battleship “Theseus’’ rolled placidly on the 
 
 ] waves a symbol of English imperialism. Its grim out- 
 
 « * ines seemed like a warning to smugglers not to have any 
 communication with the Bolsheviks. Our second effort — 
 o from Poti — proved successful, however. This was a 
 
 3 
 
less important port, and the conditions there were more 
 favourable. After a few days’ search we succeeded in 
 getting in touch with a similar expedition undertaken by 
 the local party committee. A merchant named Irakli was 
 registered as the official owner of the cargo, I was regis- 
 tered as his partner. Irakli was not concerned with the 
 political purpose of the expedition, he was merely eager 
 to earn some money. The route of the vessel was to be 
 Poti — Kirassun — Sinop — Kerempe, then a turn north- 
 ward to the Crimea or Odessa. All the documents were 
 made out for Constantinople. Thus, no suspicions could 
 be aroused by the vessel before it reached Kerempe. 
 
 The “Evstrati” put out on May 9. It was an old 
 25-metre motor boat equipped with a dilapidated two- 
 stroke “ Victory” engine. Our captain, Krylov, had very 
 little faith in this engine. The cargo was carried in the 
 holds; only a few cans were left on deck. We could not 
 get any Turkish money before leaving Poti, and all 
 payments on the voyage had to be made in petrol. The 
 “Evstrati” had hardly gone twenty miles when the engine 
 failed, and we were compelled to resort to the sails. In 
 addition to Krylov and the mechanic Grishka, the crew 
 consisted of a boatswain, two sailors and a cook — a 
 young lad. All of us, including the passengers, were 
 lodged on the open deck. 
 
 Towards the close of the second day the “Evstrati” 
 approached the Anatolian shore. We caught glimpses of 
 picturesque capes, gulfs, wooded hills steeply running 
 down to the sea; Turkish villages looking very neat and 
 cosy (alas, only from a distance) seemed to be clinging 
 to the rocks. Somids very much like women’s sobs reached 
 us from the shores. Krylov explained that these were 
 jackals howling. A few sailing vessels sailed past; we 
 were on the alert, as piracy was rife. Recently the pirates 
 
 4 
 
had plundered a large passenger liner. One rifle and two 
 revolvers were all we had for defence. 
 
 Late in the night the “Evstrati” dropped anchor in 
 Kirassun. We decided to go on shore in the morning. 
 Our captain wanted to repair the engine. In liis opinion 
 the engine would be particularly necessary when we were 
 approaching the shores of the Crimean, when we would 
 have to go at greater speed. There was a fairly good repair 
 shop in Kirassun, and he could get the engine repaired 
 there. 
 
 At dawn a customs boat, carrying the officials and a 
 doctor, approached the “Evstrati.” We were examined and 
 allowed to go on shore. One of the officials objected, but 
 this was a trick to get a bribe. We gave orders to have 
 some of the cans of petrol transferred to their boat, and 
 all obstacles vanished at once. 
 
 The Anatolian cities appear very beautiful from the 
 sea, but how unattractive they are in reality! The streets 
 are littered with refuse. Ragged urchins scurry back and 
 forth. The Greek women are particularly dirty. Yells jar 
 on unaccustomed ears. It seems all the time that the 
 people are quarreling with each other. But that is not 
 so, we soon discovered, it is merely their manner of talk- 
 ing. A great deal of noise and clatter emerged from the 
 cafeterias with which the port abounds. Everybody is 
 smoking and you can hardly see your neighbour, owing 
 to the dense smoke pervading the air. Waiters are 
 scurrying between the tables, serving strong coffee in 
 miniature cups. 
 
 The local shopkeepers told us that the town was greatly 
 disturbed. From time to time detachments of irregular 
 troops fall on the city, plunder the merchants and dis- 
 appear. These detachments consist of former “askers” 
 (soldiers of the Turkish army), who refused to surrender 
 
their arms to the British army of occupation. They were 
 mostly peasants, like those who formed the “green” ar- 
 mies in Soviet Russia; later they formed the back- 
 bone of the army of Kemal Pasha. The merchants were 
 afraid to keep goods in stock. The Greek shopkeepers 
 suffered most. At that time the English were already 
 training Greece to act as a thug against young Turkey, 
 and the rebel forces vented their hatred on her. 
 
 We were struck by the beggarly appearance of the 
 town. A multitude of beggars, pestered the passers-by. 
 Turkish women in yashmaks (veils), bent under the 
 weight of clay water ewers, were to be met with occasion- 
 ally in the streets. They were followed by their hus- 
 bands, smoking their pipes and telling their beads. Some- 
 times one man served as a driver to two loaded wives. 
 
 After a two days’ stay the “Evstrati” sailed again. 
 The sky was overcast. Great waves showered us with 
 spray. With the approach of twilight, the “Evstrati” 
 began to toss on the waves. We noticed that the por- 
 poises gamboling in the sea, were all moving in one 
 direction, contrary to their usual custom. It was a sign 
 of an approaching storm, which was not long in coming. 
 The “Evstrati” either buried her prow in the waves, her 
 helm bare and her screw furiously churning, or raised 
 her prow above the waves, while her stern was almost 
 entirely submerged in the water. 
 
 The engine had to be stopped. Waves were rolling 
 over the deck. 
 
 It became pitch dark. Lightning flashed overhead. We 
 were terrified lest the vessel should catch fire. We would 
 have been converted into a floating beacon on the furious 
 waves. 
 
 The storm grew in intensity. The vessel groaned under 
 the onslaught of the waves. It seemed that any moment 
 
 6 
 
she would break in two. The crew was working strenuous- 
 ly. Krylov himself was standing at the helm. The “Ev- 
 strati,” steered by an experienced helmsman, furiously 
 cut through the waves at right angles, thus avoiding the 
 impact of the waves on her sides. To balance the vessels, 
 Krylov gave the order to throw 50 tons of petrol over- 
 board. It almost broke our hearts to see this precious 
 cargo, so urgently needed in Soviet Russia, dissappear 
 beneath the waves. But in a few moments the cans rose 
 to the surface and floated after the vessel in a long 
 continuous chain. 
 
 Fearing that we would he driven to shore in the dark, 
 we took course for the open sea. We were absolutely igno- 
 rant of our whereabouts. Krylov reckoned that the “Ev- 
 strati” was not far from either Samsoun or Bafra. Late 
 in the night, lights appeared in the distance. The storm 
 began to subside only towards noon of the following day. 
 The sails relaxed and bore the “Evstrati” at a much 
 slower rate than before. The sun appeared from behind 
 the lead-coloured clouds. Wet through and through, 
 chilled to the bone, dead tired after a sleepless night and 
 sea-sickness, we keenly enjoyed the caressing rays of the 
 sun. The porpoises once again gamboled in the sea. 
 The shores loomed in the distance, and soon we saw a 
 city ahead. It was Synop. In the anticipation of rest, hot 
 food and sleep, our spirits revived, and we became our- 
 selves once more. 
 
 Around five o’clock the “Evstrati” approached the bay. 
 Another misfortune. A head-wind arose which prevented 
 us from entering the bay under sail, and our engine failed. 
 We were compelled to tack, and the distance, which in 
 normal circumstances could be made in an hour and a 
 half, took us over four hours. At last we were near 
 enough for boats to come to meet us. We dropped anchor. 
 
 7 
 
One of the boats came alonside, bringing a customs 
 official and a surgeon. The surgeon asked whether there 
 were any patients on board, glanced at our faces and 
 said in a strong Turkish accent: “All right.” The 
 officials declared that we were not to sell any petrol 
 otherwise than through the medium of the custom house. 
 But like the official at Kirassun, he left after taking 
 a “peshkesh” (present). The sailors and the boatswain 
 remained on board, hut we went on shore and going to 
 an inn, we slept soundly for no less than twenty hours. 
 It was a relief after a week’s voyage to sleep with our 
 clothes off. 
 
 Amusements on Land and Sea 
 
 Synop was the last place of our Turkish adventures. We 
 were supposed to take the course to the west from Synop, 
 then turn northward at the meridian of Kerempe, and 
 steer for Balaklava. We decided to investigate, whether 
 there were any feluccas smuggling goods into the Crimea 
 and to find out from their owners about the rigidity of 
 the blockade. Naturally we had to be very careful in 
 carrying out our investigations, so as not to give ourselves 
 away; the English had plenty of spies in Synop. 
 
 Money-changers were squatting before their small 
 coffers on both sides of the narrow streets. Foreign bank 
 notes and coins were neatly piled under glass covers. 
 Tsarist hundred and five hundred ruble notes were there 
 also. At that time they still had same value. 
 
 At dinner Krylov told us that the engine and sails 
 needed repairing after the storm. It was impossible to 
 continue our voyage before two or three days. When a 
 passenger boat arrived in port we went to meet her; 
 Krylov advised us to go aboard and learn the news, before 
 anybody came ashore. 
 
 8 
 
Having climbed up the rope gangway, Krylov ap- 
 proached a mechanic he knew, while I started to talk with 
 two officers. 
 
 “Will you be so kind as to tell me whether you have 
 any information about the Crimea?” 
 
 “Excellent news,” said one of the officiers. “The Crimea 
 has been completely cleared of the Bolsheviks. General 
 Slashchev is advancing towards Odessa. The whole 
 Ukraine will soon be ours!” 
 
 I pretended I was pleased to hear this and thanked 
 him for the information. 
 
 The whistle blew, and I had to go ashore. The news 
 received by Krylov and Irakli was approximately the 
 same. Still we refused to believe it. We thought it was 
 the usual canard of the emigrants. 
 
 The next day was a holiday. A wrestling match, the 
 usual holiday amusement, was to take place out of town. 
 Our crowd went there to attend the match. 
 
 A large crowd was already assembled there. The local 
 champion was proudly strutting in the arena. He ad- 
 dressed the crowd, challenging volunteers to come out 
 and wrestle, hurling jibes at those who did not dare to 
 accept his challenge. One of our companions, an athlete 
 by the name of Kote, provoked by this boasting, declared 
 his willingness to accept the challenge. A murmur of 
 delight passed through the crowd. It believed its favour- 
 ite to be invincible. 
 
 Kote and his opponent circled the ring. Like wild 
 beasts they crept towards each other, darting aside as one 
 approached the other. While in the French wrestling 
 matches the wrestlers are allowed to touch each other 
 only above the waist line, the Turkish rules do not 
 impose these restrictions and wrestlers may even catch 
 each other by the legs. Often they resort to tripping each 
 
 9 
 
other. The wrestlers crouched very low and appeared 
 to be walking on all fours. Kote had absolutely no ex- 
 perience in the Turkish methods. The exclamations and 
 the noise of the crowd excited both wrestlers. Suddenly 
 Kote deftly caught his opponent with a hold known in 
 French wrestling as a “tour-de-tete,” and threw him to 
 the ground, and the Turk, who had not expected such a 
 trick, was knocked unconscious. The crowd went wild. 
 The furious gesticulations under Kote’s very hose, and 
 threatening yells, caused us to fear that lie would be 
 lynched. We drew nearer to him, keeping our revolvers 
 ready. The customs officials, who knew us, were also 
 very alarmed at what might happen, and tried to pacify 
 the crowd, pointing out that Kote being a guest, his 
 person should not be subject to violence. 
 
 The “champion” revived and looked around, greatly 
 embarrassed. It was his first defeat, and this seemed to be 
 a great event in the eyes of the citiziens of Synop. 
 
 The next day the repairs on the “Evstrati” were finish- 
 ed. We could continue our voyage the same evening. After 
 Synop we were destined either to step on Soviet shores, 
 or never to step on any firm ground at all. For twenty four 
 hours more we were to remain “honest merchants.” After 
 that period any English cruiser meeting us would address 
 us in the language of iguns. 
 
 The most important part of the voyage was approach- 
 ing. 
 
 A few hours before sailing we met a fat man in our 
 hotel, about 45 years old apparently a Russian. Hhe was 
 accompanied by a mountaineer armed with a Mauser. 
 To our inquiry about the man, the hotel keeper replied 
 that he was a rich Crimean lanowner who had recently 
 escaped from the Bolsheviks. He missed his family, who 
 remained in the Crimea. 
 
 10 
 
He offered to pay 10,000 rubles in gold to any smuggler 
 who would be able to bring his family to Synop. No 
 volunteers had shown up as yet, the hotel keeper told us. 
 
 At dinner the landowner was the first to address us, 
 and repeated the story already known to us. He abused 
 the Bolshevik “monsters’ ’ for a time, summoning all the 
 wrath of heaven upon their heads, and vowed to scalp 
 with his own hand the first Bolshevik he laid his hands 
 on. We agreed with him sympathetically and suggested 
 even cruder methods of punishing the Bolsheviks. As 
 the dinner was drawing to a close, the landowner became 
 quite tipsy and was so overcome that he began embracing 
 us all, and asked for our addresses in the Caucasus, 
 promising to visit us when he got there with his family. 
 We reciprocated with a lot of “hot air,” giving him 
 fictitious addresses, and after taking a very hearty leave, 
 departed for our vessel. The corpulent old gentleman 
 saluted us with his handkerchief for a long while, wishing 
 us a good voyage. 
 
 During the night we sailed at the rate of 6 knots. The 
 following day we were sailing by picturesque green shores. 
 At midnight we spied a light — it was the light-house 
 on Cape Kerempe. We woke up when the sun was already 
 over our heads, and we were on a new course. The moun- 
 tains were looming on the horizon. We peered into the 
 horizon with apprehension, but were unable to discover 
 anything suspicious. Before us, for scores of miles stretch- 
 ed the mirror-like surface of the sea, broken only by the 
 gamboling porpoises. They swam alongside the “Evstrati,” 
 sometimes speeding in front of it, and sometimes remain- 
 ing behind and catching the pieces of bread we threw 
 them. The sails were half furled; the “Evstrati” was 
 driven by the motor. About noon the motor stopped. 
 
 11 
 
Now the motion was hardly noticeable. Sometimes it 
 appeared that we did not budge. 
 
 “Tomorrow, if the weather is favourable,” said the 
 boatswain, “we may see the Crimean mountains in the 
 north and the Turkish hills in the south.” 
 
 I could not believe him: the distance would be 140 
 miles! 
 
 The sun was scorching. The tent was stretched. 
 
 We decided to hunt porpoises. One of the sailors 
 brought out the harpoon — a pole about two metres long, 
 with an iron point and two adjustable drifts. A long rope 
 was attached to the harpoon, the free end of which was 
 tied to the hull of the “Evstrati.” A sailor stood on a taut 
 chain, attached at one end to the bow of the vessel and 
 at the other to the mast. Standing on the chain he 
 watched the water, awaiting the moment when a porpoise 
 would pass under him, then, seizing the opportunity, he 
 would throw his harpoon. If the cast was successful, the 
 water was immediately dyed red by the blood. The beast 
 rushed forward, unravelling the rope. The three of us 
 had to use all our strength to draw it up. But as soon 
 as the porpoise was drawn out of the water, it immedi- 
 ately lost all its vigour. 
 
 Eight porpoises were killed in two hours. 
 
 A Mysterious Cruiser 
 
 The night passed without any trouble; the wind which 
 grew stronger, was favourable. We were awakend by the 
 sun in a clear surface of the sea. The porpoises were 
 shooting through the green waves like arrows. We were 
 right in the middle of the Black Sea. The words of the 
 boatswain come true: somewhere, far away, lay the 
 contours of the hills of Asia Minor, behind us, and the 
 
 12 
 
Crimea mountains loomed in front of us. They looked 
 like clouds which were taking the shape of mountains. 
 I still am not sure that these were really mountains in 
 front of us. 
 
 By midday the wind had increased. The vessel was 
 moving along at the rate of 6 knots. We were thinking 
 that we might reach our destination on the following 
 evening, provided we had no accidents, for we carried no 
 lights at night. In the morning we saw the mountains 
 distinctly, apparently quite near, though in reality the 
 distance was not less than 20 miles. We were straining 
 our eyes, peering into the horizon, afraid of seeing the 
 “blockade.” The weather was becoming dull. We were 
 glad of this, as it decreased the visibility. Sea-gulls began 
 to appear. 
 
 Suddenly somebody spied the hardly visible outline of 
 a cruiser. There could be no doubt .... A cruiser was 
 coming across the course of the “Evstrati.” Blast it! It 
 would be naive to imagine that we could be saved by 
 explanations to the effect that our destination was not a 
 Soviet port. This ruse night suceed somewhere near the 
 Turkish shores, hut here it was too late to deny the real 
 object of our voyage. The cruiser was approaching from 
 behind. Krylov ordered us to get the life-belts ready. 
 
 “Would it not ibe beter to throw ourselves overboard 
 right now?” I thought. “There isn’t the slightest chance 
 of reaching the shore, but there is no other way out; and 
 it will be too late to jump overboard when the cruiser 
 begins to fire.” The “Evestrati,” loaded with petrol, will 
 be blown to pieces by the first shell. And if we could not 
 swim away a considerable distance from the vessel, we 
 would be caught by the burning benzene. 
 
 The cruiser approached us to a distance of about two 
 miles Then suddenly it reduced its speed and began 
 
 13 
 
to turn its poop towards us. What could it mean? We 
 could only suspect that they wanted to fire their poop- 
 guns at us. All ready to jump overboard, we anxiously 
 watched the guns, expecting any moment to see them 
 flash. However, the distance between the vessels began 
 gradually to grow. 
 
 What had happened? 
 
 Was it possible that for training purposes the cruiser 
 was trying to complicate the problem, and to allow a 
 certain distance before firing? The guns remained silent; 
 we were getting jumpier every moment. It seemed ever 
 so much better to be shot at and get it over, for we should 
 at least escape the terrible uncertainty. At last two of the 
 flashes we had been waiting for made their appearance 
 and the shells fell near us, raising columns of water. That 
 was all. Then, silence again. 
 
 The cruiser was leaving. It was growing dark ... We 
 could not understand. For some reason the cruiser did 
 not want to sink us. 
 
 “It is good that we are arriving at night,” said Krylov. 
 “More chance to pass unsuspected, and if we are noticed, 
 it will be difficult to shoot.” 
 
 A little later, he added: 
 
 “I hope we don’t strike any blockade at the entrance of 
 Sebastopol Bay. Perhaps it would be better to sail quietly 
 past Sebastopol and to drop anchor in Evpatoria? It is 
 a small town, and is of no importance as a port. We will 
 attract no attention there.” 
 
 Everybody agreed. 
 
 It was quite dark when we left Sebastopol behind. We 
 could now congratulate ourselves on the satisfactory ter- 
 mination of our Odyssey. Four or five more hours of 
 sailing and the anchor would be dropped; all our dangers 
 would be left behind. Late in the night we approached 
 
 14 
 
Evpatoria. We decided to land in the morning; it was 
 quite probable that the city would be under martial law. 
 
 Sleep was a great temptation after so much excitement 
 and alarm. Full of joy we were congratulating each other. 
 At last, after so many trials we felt ourselves free citizens 
 of Soviet Russia! 
 
 In the Camp of the White Guards 
 
 It was dawn when I opened my eyes. The sea was 
 covered with a fog which hid the shore. The outlines of 
 tall buildings and churches were hardly visible. Not 
 far from the “Evstrati” and on both sides of it sailing 
 vessels were rolling on the waves. Everybody was up 
 and cheerfully smiling. 
 
 A four-oared rowing boat started from the shore and 
 headed for the “Evstrati.” Five men armed with rifles 
 were in the boat. This surprised us, but at first we were 
 happy to see them. However, with every moment a 
 certain involuntary alarm began to get hold of us. We 
 could not understand the reason for the rifles, and our 
 instinct told us that something was wrong. Suddenly the 
 cause of our alarm was quite clear: through the milky 
 mist we noticed the shoulder-straps of the men in the 
 boat! The boat contained cossacks and an officer . . . 
 We felt as if a shower of cold water had been thrown 
 over us. Was it possible that all our hopes and chances, 
 our triumph of yesterday, had come to nothing? We had 
 been so glad: we had “broken the blockade” and “arrived 
 among our friends,” to ’’supply the army with petrol,” 
 etc. The half-hearted shooting of the cruiser became 
 clear at once. There was no escape for us anyway! I had 
 hardly time to tear up and throw overboard all the party 
 corresp ondence. 
 
 “Where is this vessel from? 
 
 15 
 
“From Poti, with a cargo of petrol.” 
 
 The officer came on board the “Evestrati” accompanied 
 by a cossack. 
 
 “Who is the owner?” 
 
 “I and my partners,” was the placid reply of Irakli. 
 
 “The owners and the skipper will please follow me on 
 shore! The rest are to remain on hoard!” 
 
 The officer was polite, hut his voice sounded vicious. 
 We climbed down into the boat and set off. The officer 
 enquired whether we had all the necessary documents 
 and warned us that we should probably have to wait 
 a few hours in the office of the Commandant, till the 
 General woke up. We asked him to tell us about the 
 situation in the town, and how far the Bolsheviks were. 
 From his curt replies we gathered that the Reds had 
 been driven from Evpatoria only four days ago and were 
 retreating northwards. In the office of the Commandant, 
 another officer, who proved to be the Commandant’s 
 assistant, began the cross-examination. How could we 
 explain why we were in the Crimea instead of Constan- 
 tinople? When the “Evstrati” was leaving Synop, we 
 could have had no precise knowledge about the eva- 
 cuation of the Crimea by the Bolsheviks. Consequently 
 the petrol we carried was intended for the supply of the 
 Bolsheviks? The hazardous situation was enhanced by 
 the absence of any preliminary agreement between us 
 as to what answers should be given in such an emergency, 
 so that we simply had to answer at random. Our cross- 
 examiner made it quite clear that our fate fully depended 
 upon his report to General Larionov. 
 
 “Your conduct,” a significant glance in our direction, 
 “will reveal what you are.” 
 
 We guessed that he was after a bribe. It ended with his 
 suggestion that we should meet him the same evening at 
 
 16 
 
the restaurant “Russia.” In his opinion a meeting between 
 us aind General Larionov was not “urgent” in the mean- 
 while, and he made us sign a promise not to leave the 
 city. 
 
 We left the office in high spirits and decided to pay 
 well to extricate our heads from the noose. That evening 
 we kept our appointment. In one of the corners of the 
 hotel garden we noticed five officers engaged in a lively 
 conversation. The Commandant’s assistant invited us to 
 his table as soon as he spotted us, and introduced us as 
 friends who had just arrived from Georgia. The company 
 was rather typsy, it was continually growing, and new 
 tables were always being added. Being tipsy our new 
 friends were rather noisy anid unconstrained, and soon 
 we found out that among our companions were the head 
 of the Jocal intelligence service, the head of the intel- 
 ligence service of the third corps, and a lieutenant of 
 Kornilov’s regiment, who was in Evpatoria for medical 
 treatment. 
 
 By midnight, very drunk, and hardly able to stand, the 
 officers dispersed to their homes. Irakli paid about 80 
 gold rubles for the feast. Tired, but happy at the way 
 things had turned out, we were trying to decide how the 
 required bribe should be given. The next morning the 
 officer solved this problem for us. 
 
 “Wouldn’t it be tiice to have a game of cards tonight!’’ 
 
 We understood that he was showing us the means of 
 giving him the money. The very same evening Irakli lost 
 200 rubles to him. While playing, the officer assured 
 Irakli that his report to Larionov would be “in the most 
 favourable light,” but that as there was absolutely no 
 petrol in the town, the general would be sure to demand 
 the confiscation of our cargo. 
 
 We begged for mercy. 
 
 2 e 
 
 17 
 
“Don’t min us* poor honest trademen! Please help us 
 to sell the petrol at our own price!” 
 
 At first the officer refused, referring to the stubbornness 
 of the Commandant, but finally he promised to “put in a 
 word for us,” giving us a hint about a further bribe. Two 
 days later we received a permit to trade. Our “friend” 
 assured us later that he had had to share the bribe with 
 his chief. 
 
 It seemed that the danger was over, hut I was afraid 
 that our companions, particularly the sailors, might easily 
 min us when drunk. We were anxious to get rid of the 
 crew of the “Evstrati” as soon as possible. Furthermore, 
 every day of its stay was an extra expense. 
 
 We Become “Honest Tradesmen y 
 
 Irakli and I decided at last to unload our cargo and 
 to discharge the “Evstrati.” We began to look for a suit- 
 able storage place int he city. 
 
 A week later the cargo was on shore. Our trade was 
 very poor, very few of our sales excesded 30 to 50 kilo- 
 grams. We were being delayed, whereas we were anxious 
 to disappear as soon as possible. At the same time we 
 did not want to effect a final settlement with the crew: 
 it was necessary that they should depend on us all the 
 time that we remained in Evpatoria. We therefore re- 
 solved to purchase salt (the most profitable merchandise 
 at the time) and to send the “Evstrati” back to Batum, 
 where the crew would receive all the payment due them. 
 
 Many a time Irakli in his conversations with me mem- 
 tioned that I must thank my fate for remaining alive. 
 He insisted on my return to the Caucasus, but I decided 
 to make my way to Moscow. 
 
 It happened once that one of our companious, Sasha 
 K., came hack to the hotel accompanied by a strange man 
 
 18 
 
of about 30, of an oriental type. He introduced him as 
 his countryman, an engineer, Pirumov. He had met 
 Pirumov in a restaurant. We could not he too careful 
 under the circumstance, and I mentally reprimanded 
 Sasha for his thoughtlessness. However, we soon became 
 friends with Pirumov, and I even visited him at his home. 
 He lived in the hoarding house of ia German on Senstors 
 Street together with his sister and her friend Nastia. Piru- 
 mov told us how they had escaped from Moscow recently, 
 and of the cruelty of the Bolsheviks, bitterly complain- 
 ing that his relatives remained in “Sovdepia. 44 We spent 
 all our free time together. 
 
 Once, walking in the garden. Pirumov hegged me to 
 send him on the 44 Evstrati” to the Caucasus. I was sur- 
 prised at his request. What pleasure could he derive from 
 traveling on a sailing felucca, without any passenger 
 accommodations, when he could easily travel by a com- 
 fortable passenger liner. Somewhat embarrassed, he ex- 
 plained that he was afraid of mobilisation into the army. 
 The steamship companies sell tickets only against the 
 permit of the military authorities. I promised to arrange 
 his voyage on the “Evstmti” and we agreed to keep it 
 secret. 
 
 The sailing of the “Evstrati” with the cargo of salt 
 was fixed for the middle of August. Due to my insistence 
 Irakli consented to allow Pirumov on board, while he 
 himself decided to go by passanger steamer. I was com- 
 pelled to remain a few more days in Evpatoria, to leave 
 later for the north. I hoped to get to Moscow. 
 
 On the day the “Evstrati” was to sail, Pirumov and his 
 sister came to the vessel and went down into the hold. 
 Irakli and I were already on board. Ten minutes before 
 starting, I went down into the hold to say good-bye to 
 Pirumov. Already, several days before, my suspicions had 
 
 2 * 
 
 19 
 
been aroused. It seemed to me that mobilisation was not 
 the only thing he feared, for certain of his ways, his 
 manner of turning round in the streets to see that there 
 were no spies following, and other little things made me 
 suspect that he was one of “us.” 
 
 Here, in the hold, I had a sudden impulse to take a 
 chance and ask him bluntly. 
 
 “Let’s he honest. Even if I am mistaken, I have nothing 
 to fear from you: you will not he allowed on shore 
 again. And should you wish to report me in Batum, it 
 will be too late. All traces of me will disappear from 
 Evpatoria tomorrow. I am a Bolshevik. I was sent by the 
 Transcaucasian District Committee with a special mission. 
 As you are aware, I landed among the Whites and have 
 contrived so far to remain safe. My name is Shaumyan, 
 not Barkhydariants. Probably you have heard it already. 
 Who are you? 
 
 Pirumov grew pale. He at first thought it was provoca- 
 tion, but my sincere tone and my last words evidently 
 convinced him. With great haste, so as to have time to 
 tell me everything, the anchor chains could already be 
 heard and Krylov was swearing at me for the delay of 
 Pirumov and his sister (later I found out that she was 
 his wife “Mukha” — he confirmed my suspicions. We 
 shook hands heartily. 
 
 “My name is not Pirumov. I am Sergei Babakhan,” he 
 told me, greatly excited. Go to Nastia and tell her of our 
 conversation. She is one of us, and will bring you into 
 contact with our lads. They will help you to get past the 
 front.” 
 
 I took leave of them in a hurry and jumped into the 
 boat, when the “Evstrati” was already moving. I found 
 Irakli in the boat but, naturally, told him nothing. 
 
 20 
 
With the Secret Service and Revolutionaries 
 
 The next day I went to see Nastia, the friend of Piru- 
 inov’s wife and had a long talk with her on different 
 subjects, trying to induce her to speak about politics. 
 I sensed immediately she was on the alert, hut she did 
 not take the bait, turning all hints into jokes and in 
 general playing the role of a frivolous “flapper.” Than 
 I told her bluntly about the consersation of the previous 
 day. She was flabbergasted. I felt her struggling between 
 two feelings: joy that I was of their “own” and fear of 
 provocation. At last all doubts were dissipated and she 
 agreed to introduce me to our comrades that very even- 
 ing. 
 
 In the evening I called for her and we started. On the 
 outskirts of the city she knocked at the window of a 
 little one-storied house. The door was opened by a tall 
 brunette of about twenty-eight, who was holding a kero- 
 sene lamp. Smiling, Nastia said: “Sonia, here is one of 
 our lads,” and we passed into the room, where several 
 persons were present: Alexander, a student, looking rather 
 seedy, his wife Sonia, Alesha Avelev, a youth with brist- 
 ling hair, who was the brother of the first Sonia, and 
 Andriushka, a lovely child of three, who began to examine 
 me with great interest. My reception was very warm, and 
 for the first time after many months of playing the role 
 of a merchant and cruel foe of Bolshevism, and after 
 so many ambiguous situations, I felt myself in friendly 
 surroundings and secure. I began to visit them every 
 evening. Irakli, of course, knew nothing of my connection 
 with the underground revolutionaries. My frequent ab- 
 sence from home, I explained by telling him I spent my 
 time with Nastia. Nevertheless I felt that he had begun 
 to suspect something, as he persisted in advising me to 
 
 21 
 
return to the Caucasus. Irakli, himself, was ready to leave 
 any day. 
 
 At that time the group of revolutionaries had not yet 
 contrived to do anything. As always happens after a de- 
 bacle, only small groups of Bolsheviks had remained 
 in the Crimea, and they could hardly establish any 
 connections. It was a period when the wounds received 
 in battles were being taken care of. There was a stronger 
 group in Sebastopol, headed hy Comrade Haikevich 
 (“Malchishka”) and this group did succeed in establish- 
 ing some connection with the port workers. Our Evpator- 
 ian group was connected with Haikevich. I recall how 
 once a telegram was received from him, reading 
 “Send twenty gross mother of pearl.” It meant he needed 
 two thousand rubles in tsarist notes of 100 rubles each. 
 The Evpatorian group was afraid to communicate with 
 Sebastopol hy rail. Therefore a vehicle and a team of 
 horses were purchased for the purpose and entrusted to 
 a comrade who was thought to be sympathetic to the 
 Bolshevik movement. He was supposed to use this team 
 for taking the money to Haikevich. However he proved 
 to be a blackguard and, taking advantage of the situation, 
 appropriated the team and the vehicle. It was lucky he 
 did not betray the whole group. 
 
 My own situation was rather ticklish. On one hand, I 
 was a merchant and a boon companion of the officers 
 of the secret service and enjoyed their full confidence. 
 On the other hand, I was a revolutionary, connected with 
 an underground organisation. Irakli, neither White nor 
 Red, knew me quite well. If he were a less honest man, 
 he might betray me at any moment. I was also well 
 known to the crew of the “Evstrati,” who might also quite 
 easily betray me when drunk, or even from sheer stup- 
 idity. 
 
 22 
 
The confidence of the secret service men was very 
 great. One day one of them came to my room, closed the 
 door, and burst out: 
 
 “Do me a favour. A sailing vessel loaded with arms 
 is expected to arrive for the Bolsheviks; the arms will he 
 loaded at the bottom of the boat and concealed by some 
 kind of merchandise. Two Armenians are in charge of 
 the boat. We shall arrange for observation. As soon as 
 the boat arrives, go there, make friends with the Armen- 
 ians and try to gain their confidence, and promise to 
 provide them with storage for the arms. All right? The 
 reward will be a large one for both of us.” 
 
 Concealing my excitement, I readily agreed. The man 
 came to see me twice during that week, telling me of the 
 arrival of suspicious sailing boats. I went to the pier to 
 watch the crew. I succeeded in making the acquaintance 
 of one of them, having taken a place at his table in a 
 cafe. Our friendship lasted two days, but all in vain. I 
 found out in the end that he was a Greek and only re- 
 sembled an Armenian. He had smuggled from Constan- 
 tinople all kinds of fancy goods and offered to sell me a 
 large parcel of ladies’ stockings, scent powder, and two 
 pails of iodine. I told him I was more interested in cur- 
 rency and we parted. Thus, we failed to catch the Bol- 
 shevik arms, and were mighty sorry, both of us, but for 
 very different reasons. He was deploring the loss of the 
 money reward, while I was afraid that the transport 
 missed by me might indeed be caught. I found out later 
 that the Northern Caucasus did indeed supply arms to 
 the Crimean “greens,” but the arms were delivered to 
 the southern shores of the Crimea and not to Evpatoria. 
 
 23 
 
I Become Barkhudayants 
 
 Irakli left, and I was the only one of the whole expedi- 
 tion who remained in Evpatoria. The papers were full of 
 reports about the glorious victories of the “Volunteer 
 Armies” and discussions of the candidates to the throne 
 of the “Russian Empire.” It was high time for me to get 
 away. At first I made a plan to reach Perekop, hoping 
 to get from there to Port Skadovsk, by boat, as the latter 
 place was still in the hands of the Bolsheviks. However, 
 when I found out that the successful operations of the 
 Whites had made this plan impracticable, I made up a 
 new one to reach Alexandrovsk by rail, from there to 
 cross the Dnieper River somewhere between Alexan- 
 drovsk and Krivoi Rog, thus reaching the country of the 
 Soviets. However, the chances of successfully carrying out 
 this plan were decreasing every day as the whole section 
 of the Red Army which was fighting around Odessa 
 might he cut off from Moscow at any moment. I therefore 
 decided to go first to Kharkov atid then further north, 
 expecting to wait somewhere in the front line, till the 
 Reds attacked and occupied it. It was very difficult to 
 get to Moscow, hut it was still more difficult to remain 
 in Evpatoria devising all kinds of plans, which due to 
 the rapid progress of political events had to be changed 
 with the speed of a cinema! It was at all events necessary 
 to start; after that things could look after themselves. 
 One thing was quite clear, nothing could induce me to 
 give up trying. 
 
 I did not drop my friendship with the officers, my boon 
 companions, hoping they might yet be of some use to me. 
 We had two or three more parties after Irakli’s departure, 
 accompanied by the inevitable cursing of the Bolsheviks 
 and toasts to the health of Generals Denikin, Slashchev, 
 
 24 
 
Mai-Mayevsky, Shilling, and others. The tipsy officers, 
 and particularly a young assistant of the chief of the 
 secret service department of the 3rd Corps, used to tell 
 with gusto how they had hanged Bolsheviks, or shot them 
 in bunches. This officer always carried in his pocket 
 a piece of rope on which he had hanged a Bolshevik 
 Commissar in Simferopol. These suppers always ended in 
 debauchery. 
 
 Once, when dead drunk, one of our boon companions, 
 the lieutenant of Kornilov’s regiment, ordered the band 
 to play “God Save the Czar.” It was about 2 A. M. The 
 people in the hall were so drunk that they could hardly 
 understand what was going on. Some of the officers were 
 lying unconscious under the tables, and some of the guests 
 did not rise when it was played. It should also be pointed 
 out that the music was also quite drunken, as the musi- 
 cians could not even control their instruments, Suddenly 
 a strong crash and the sound of breaking glass aroused us. 
 In a frenzy of patriotism, the lieutenant had thrown a 
 couple of empty bottles at a neighbouring table occupied 
 by a group of civilians. Panic followed; everybody was 
 moving about. The drunken lieutenant was yelling: 
 
 “I will not allow the civilian rabble to show their 
 disrespect for His Imperial Majesty! Get out, you black- 
 guards!” 
 
 We tried to pacify him in vain. Fortunately a com- 
 paratively sober colonel came over to our table and 
 ordered the lieutenant to leave the restaurant, which he 
 did with great displeasure. Such scenes could be seen 
 daily in the restaurants. 
 
 Another time I was present when some tipsy officers 
 made a bet as to who could cut down one of the thick 
 palms which decorated the hall with the smallest number 
 of strokes. In spite of the protests and pleading of the 
 
 25 
 
owner and the head waiter, two officers began to strike 
 the expensive trees with their swords, with savage glee. 
 After four of the palms had been destroyed the officers 
 threw to the waiter a hunch of notes and continued drink- 
 ing. Having added a few more bottles the officers, now 
 absolutely drunk, began to fire their revolvers at the 
 chandeliers, breaking the lamps. As everybody was drunk, 
 nobody noticed the showers of glass which fell on the 
 plates and the heads of the guests. Each successful shot 
 was applauded. 
 
 I was happy to observe these scenes: there could be 
 no victory for an army having such commanders. 
 
 Once, after one of these suppers, the guests met the 
 police as they were going out of the restaurant garden. 
 It happened to be a raid for deserters. After documents 
 were checked, many were released, while the most sus- 
 picious persons were led aside and left in the care of 
 policemen. Unfortunately I left my passport in the hotel 
 for registration and had no document with me. Protests 
 were of no avail. In company with a score of others, I 
 was led to the police station. I hoped that the constable 
 on duty would telephone to my hotel to verify my state- 
 ment. It was about 3 o’clock. The officer on duty refused 
 to telephone and yawningly ordered them to take me 
 away — tomorrow everything would be settled. I must ad- 
 mit that I was a bit fuddled, and in such a state calm 
 action is out of the question. Realising this, I decided 
 to submit, afraid of saying something wrong in my excite- 
 ment. 
 
 I passed the night sittng on a stool in a cellar of which 
 the floor was dirty, covered with spittle and cigarette 
 ends. Several scores of the most disreputable riff-raff were 
 there using a slang quite unintelligible to me. Twice they 
 started to fight, but were stopped by the punches lavishly 
 
 26 
 
distributed by the police officer on duty. Sleep was out 
 of the question. 
 
 At last day began to break. The time was dragging 
 painfully. About ten o’clock we were summoned one by 
 one for cross-examination. A police officer with a fluffy 
 black mustache, and clad in a smart uniform, majestically 
 presided at a large desk. His gloomy countenance bright- 
 ened up after the first few words of our conversation. It 
 happened that before 1917 he had been a police constable 
 in Baku. 
 
 “Is Barkhudayants, who owned a wine shop, a relation 
 of yours?” 
 
 I knew of the existence of such a firm in Baku, but 
 being afraid that the officer might be well acquainted 
 with the family, whom I did not know, I replied shortly 
 that the owner of the firm was my uncle. 
 
 “Ah, what wonderful Matrassinsky wine he had ! Many 
 a barrel did he send me every Christmas and Easter; a 
 pleasant city, Baku ...” 
 
 Our conversation lasted about half an hour. He asked 
 me when I intended to go hack and promised to visit 
 me at my hotel on the following day with letters for his 
 friends in Baku. With this we parted. He came to see me 
 the next day and we discussed the pleasures of Baku, 
 while drinking tea. He igave me three letters addressed to 
 three police officers and asked me to convey his greetings 
 by word of mouth. That evening I opened the letters, 
 hoping to find out something which would be of service 
 to me. The officer wrote that he was satisfied with his 
 life. It is true that the salary was not too large, only 
 120 rubles, but thanks to God and the smugglers the in- 
 come was sometimes as large as 500 rubles a month. He 
 wrote candidly that “His Excellency” Kovalov, the former 
 governor of Baku was now governor in Stavropol and was 
 
 27 
 
very kind to his former colleagues from Baku. “There* 
 fore, if you are not satisfied with your government, just 
 go to His Excellency. He will readily give you an appoint- 
 ment.” They were all in this vein. Not long before my 
 departure from Evpatoria, having met me in the street, 
 the officer “borrowed” 20 rubles from me. I never saw my 
 money again. 
 
 Through the White Army to Red Moscow 
 
 A special permit from the military authorities was 
 required to go to Kharkov. My “friends” provided me 
 with one. Furthermore, the chief of the local secret 
 service department got me a license to carry a revolver, 
 and got me a fairly good one for 20 rubles. There was 
 no regular railway connection with the north. The trains 
 consisted of freight cars accommodating from 40 to 50 
 passengers, who were literally packed like sardines. 
 
 Three troop-cars were attached to my train, for a hun- 
 dred cossacks and their officers. The officers were from 
 Kuban and wore Circassian national coats. They all drank 
 throughout the journey. At some stations they leaped out 
 of the cars, formed a circle and executed a wild dance 
 to the sounds of an accordion. A crowd would rapidly 
 accumulate. Vainly did the station master beg them to get 
 back into the train. 
 
 The officers would threaten him with their swords, and 
 yell : 
 
 “Don’t you dare to start the train, you bitch, while the 
 Kubans are dancing! We’ll tell you when we are tired!” 
 
 Due to their dancing the train several times remained 
 for 2 or 3 hours at a station. A little north of Melitopol, 
 we were startled by rifle shooting. The train stopped. We 
 had happened to be passing a pleasant meadow and the 
 officers had decided to use it for their dancing. For a long 
 
 28 
 
while they tried to attract the engine-driver’s attention 
 with handkerchiefs and whistling, but he did not notice 
 their signals. It was then that they decided to resort to 
 shooting and thus stop the train. In this way they suc- 
 ceeded, and the dancing began. Drunk, red in the face, 
 hardly able to stand on their legs, they executed a wild 
 Caucasian dance thirty paces from the track, inspiring 
 terror in the souls of the other passengers by their savage 
 appearance. Finally, after a whole hour, they were so 
 tired that the cossacks had to carry them to their cars, 
 and the engine driver was permitted to continue the 
 journey. Notwithstanding all the troubles connected with 
 their presence, they were in one way useful to us. Without 
 them we would have been compelled to remain for hours 
 at the stations awaiting locomotives, as these were given 
 to passenger trains only when needed for no other work. 
 Our officers burst into the offices of the station masters 
 and with threats compelled them to give us a fresh engine 
 at once. We therefore proceeded at double speed. At the 
 stations of Sinelnikovo and Lozovaya our cars were at- 
 tacked by the officers of another regiment together with 
 gendarmes who demanded the delivery of all Jews into 
 their hands. The day before in Sinelnikovo 5 Jews had 
 been dragged out of the train and shot. Their blood was 
 still visible on the platform. 
 
 At last the train arrived at Kharkov. I decided to spend 
 the night at the station. It was necessary to get a ticket to 
 Belgorod early in the morning. All ordinary mortals were 
 forbidden to go there. The tickets were sold only upon 
 presentation of a special permit from the local military 
 authorities. There was no chance of any official assistance. 
 I was helped by one of the red-capped porters who were 
 crowding in the station. He booked me a ticket for a 
 train leaving in two hours and asked 10 rubles for it. 
 
 29 
 
The proximity of the front was keenly felt. A majority 
 of the shops had not yet had time to begin work. A great 
 number of portraits of Denikin, Mai-Mayevsky, Wrangel, 
 Pokrovsky, Kornilov and others were displayed in the 
 show-windows. Here were also illiterate poems ridiculing 
 the Bolsheviks and the Jews. The “creations’’ of the 
 Osvag,* crude and devoid of humour, were lavishly ex- 
 hibited in the streets. The Red Army prisoners, emaci- 
 ated, starving, clad in rags, were walking the streets in 
 crowds; they had entirely lost their human appearance 
 and were begging for alms in order to obtain a bare sub- 
 sistence. The Whites, after taking them prisoners, took 
 their clothes and footwear, and then let them free to go 
 and do wliat they liked. The mortality from starvation 
 and typhus among these prisoners was appalling. After 
 two days in the streets, squares, and stations of Kharkov, 
 I moved on. 
 
 The train arrived at Belgorod late at night. I had no 
 clear plan for future action. The station was crowded 
 with wounded officers and soldiers from Kornilov’s army, 
 and with nurses and officers from the armoured train 
 which was standing in the station. 
 
 I was trying to he as inconspicuous as possible and 
 Was afraid to speak to anybody. From fragments of talk 
 here and there I was able to make out that the White 
 army was advancing without encountering any great 
 resistance. Nobody except soldiers were allowed to go to 
 the front. 
 
 In the morning I bought lieutenant’s shoulder straps 
 in the nearest shop, and immediately attached them to 
 my coat. I had no luggage with me, only a thermos flask 
 
 * Information Bureau, officially controlling the press and public 
 information; actually, an auxiliary organ of the secret service. 
 
 30 
 
and a pistol. All this was fairly typical for an officer and 
 my appearance could hardly arouse any suspicions. The 
 only objection was my too youthful appearance. But after 
 the Crimea I had purposely stopped shaving, and there- 
 fore looked about 20 or 21 years old. The station master 
 told me that a train with commissary cargo was leaving 
 at 4 o’clock for Rzhava. Beyond that station the track 
 had been destroyed by the retreating Red armies. 
 
 I jumped onto the footboard of one of the carriages 
 when the train was already moving, and thus continued 
 my journey. 
 
 When we approached a station, I jumped down, walked 
 round it, and then hoarded when the train was on the 
 move again. Thus I avoided all possible meetings and 
 conversations. This was absolutely necessary, as the most 
 innocent question, for instance, to which regiment did 
 I belong? or, where was it located? would he sufficient 
 to give me away at once. It was getting dark when the 
 train approached Rzhava. The immediate proximity of 
 the front was in the air. A cossacks’ detachment was near; 
 military baggage trains and sanitary carts were in evi- 
 dence. Soldiers and officers were scurrying about on the 
 platform. Many of them were in Kornilov’s uniform, with 
 a skull and cross-hones embroidered on their sleeves. I 
 decided to make use of the darkness to get av/ay as far 
 as possible from the station. I spent one night in a ditch, 
 under a bush. 
 
 A Man Under the Straw 
 
 Early in the morning I was aroused by the sun-beams. 
 I directed my steps towards a village located several kilo- 
 metres from the station. The distant roar of artillery 
 could be distinctly heard. The front was quite near. 
 Occasionally a peasant could be seen working in the 
 
 31 
 
fields. Before I had gone two kilometres a column of dense 
 dust was raised by a shell. The sound of the explosion 
 stimulated me. If the shells reach here, evidently the 
 Red artillery is not further than 7 or 8 kilometres away. 
 The first shell was followed by several more, each one 
 of them nearer the station. It was evident that the 
 battery was aiming at the station of Rzhava. The peas- 
 ants, surrounded by the falling shells, took no notice of 
 them, and continued their work. Not far from the place 
 where I spent the night I tripped over a telephone wire. 
 Looking round and seeing that nobody was in sight I 
 rapidly cut it with my knife: At least for a time the con- 
 nection between the troops would be severed. 
 
 I felt hungry and went to the village to get some 
 bread. The peasants everywhere refused to sell any. 
 They probably suspected me of being a forager, investi- 
 gating whether they had any foodstuffs which could be 
 requisitioned. After a long search an old woman took 
 pity on me and sold me a loaf of bread and a cup of 
 milk. She was a long time in selecting a note from the 
 “Don” and Ukrainian money offered by me. She saw 
 this money for the first time — the Red troops retreated 
 only two days ago. I did not want to remain in the 
 village, and went further, examining the road and an- 
 xiously thinking of the possibility of meeting a patrol. 
 A peasant woman on a cart overtook me on the road. 
 To my question where she was going, she stopped the 
 horse and pointed to a village to the right: 
 
 “To Kolbasovka.” 
 
 “But am’t the Bolsheviks there?” 
 
 “The Bolsheviks are in Kolbasovka, but there are 
 none in Dvoyeluchnaya. The villages merge into each 
 other.” 
 
 32 
 
She told me that the fields of her neighbours were 
 now occupied by the Whites, while the fields of the 
 Dvoyeluchnaya peasants were occupied by the Reds. 
 Neither the Whites nor the Reds interfered with the har- 
 vesting work of the peasants. Thus, the villages are in 
 permanent communication. A plan quickly matured 
 in my head. 
 
 “I shall go with you, hiding under the straw. I shall 
 go and make investigations in Kolbasovka. And to- 
 morrow you can take me back.” 
 
 She hesitated: 
 
 “And what if the Bolsheviks kill you? My life won’t 
 be worth a kopek: they will say I gave you away.” 
 
 I did not listen to her, but climbed into the cart and 
 covered myself with straw. “Well, if I am found, I’ll 
 hang on the first birch!” While riding, I instructed the 
 woman not to stop in Dvoyeluchnaya, but that as soon 
 as she arrived in Kolbasovka she should immediately 
 ride into a garden or a yard, see if anybody was around 
 and then tell me if everything was all right. Should 
 we meet any detachment, she was not to mention that 
 an officer was hiding in the straw. We were riding for 
 an hour and a half. Suddenly through the thick straw 
 I heard the tramp of hoofs and the talk of cossacks. It 
 proved that a detachment was indeed riding alongside 
 the cart for some time, but later turned into a side road. 
 We soon stopped. I heard the groaning of a gate and 
 understood that we were at the end of our journey. Then 
 I heard: 
 
 “Get out ! Nobody’s around !” 
 
 Afraid to believe that at last I was back again in 
 Soviet territory, looking around me, I got out of the 
 cart. I could hear my heart beating. 
 
 “Where are the headquarters?” 
 
 33 
 
“In the priest’s house,” said the peasant woman. 
 Astounded, she watched me running in the direction she 
 indicated. 
 
 I had hardly gone 20 steps when I was stopped by 
 a shrill exclamation: 
 
 “Stop!” 
 
 Several Reds with their rifles atilt, appeared in front 
 of me. My feelings at this moment are difficult to 
 imagine; I was borne as if on wings to my headquarters, 
 to the Red headquarters. I was leaving my troubles be- 
 hind; so many times I had been within an ace of death, 
 and now, just at the very moment when everything was 
 already over I was stopped by a Soviet bayonet! I was 
 ready to embrace the very soldier who was fiercely 
 glaring at me. Only then did I understand that the 
 Reds were confused by imy officer’s appearance; the 
 shoulder-straps, the revolver and the thermos, which they 
 probably took for a hand grenade. J tore off the shoulder- 
 straps, and asked to be taken to the Commissar. 
 
 What a stupid finale it would have been, if in the 
 circumstances the Reds had emptied their rifles into 
 me, I thought. 
 
 The Commissar heard my story, and after some con- 
 sideration, said: 
 
 “I am willing to believe you, comrade, but I am com- 
 pelled to send you to the headquarters of the brigade.” 
 
 There the same thing happened again. I was “will- 
 ingly believed” and sent with a convoy to the head- 
 quarters of the division. Only there the Commissar of 
 the ninth division set me free, provided me with a rail- 
 way pass and food, and sent me in an armoured train 
 which was leaving for Kursk for repairs. Several days 
 later I was telling my friends in Moscow of all my ad- 
 ventures on the journey which began in Poti on the 
 
 34 
 
ninth of May and ended on the sixteenth of September 
 in Moscow. 
 
 A Very Brief Epilogue 
 
 Some years later, when the necessity for crossing the 
 front in order to reach Moscow from the Crimea no 
 longer existed, and the entire “united and undivided” 
 was concentrated in the slums of Constantinople; when 
 the red banner of the victorious Proletariat was flutter- 
 ing over the remotest parts of one-sixth of the globe, I 
 found out that our Crimean organisations had been 
 destroyed soon after I left Evpatoria, All the Evpato- 
 rian comrades fell into the hands of the secret service 
 department. Alexander and a number of comrades were 
 shot; Alesha, Sonia and others spent a long time in 
 prison. Our little revolutionary Andriushka, imprisoned 
 together with his mother, could not endure the difficult 
 prison regime, fell ill and died .... 
 
 All this happened in the year one thousand nine 
 hundred and nineteen. 
 
 35 
 

 ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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 ^ aiijil|B|iiM|jrtii|iij||B iBil ^ B|| |BBB| BaMM 
 
 RUSSIA 
 
 FREE! 
 
 TEN SPEECHES DELIVERED AT THE ROYAL 
 ALBERT HALL LONDON ON 
 31 MARCH 1917 
 AUTHORISED REPORT 
 
 1 
 
 George Lansbury 
 H. W. Nevinson 
 Robert Smillie 
 Robert Williams 
 Israel Zangwill 
 
 SPEAKERS 
 
 Maude Royden 
 Jos. Wedgwood, M.P. 
 Albert Bellamy 
 Arthur Lynch, M.P. 
 W. C. Anderson, M.P. 
 
 With a Postscript by 
 
 H. N. BRAILSFORD 
 
 1917. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 THE HERALD OFFICE 
 21 TUDOR STREET 
 FLEET STREET 
 E.C 
 
 
 PRICE 
 
 THREEPENCE 
 
RUSSIA FREE 
 
 THE AUTHORISED REPORT 
 OF SPEECHES MADE ON 31 
 MARCH 1917 AT THE ROYAL 
 ALBERT HALL LONDON BY 
 GEORGE LANSBURY - H.W 
 NEVINSON ' ISRAEL ZANG' 
 WILL - ROBERT WILLIAMS 
 ROBERT SMILLIE ' MAUDE 
 ROYDEN < JOS. WEDGWOOD 
 M.P ' ALBERT BELLAMY 
 ARTHUR LYNCH M.P - W.C 
 ANDERSON M.P 'TO WHICH 
 IS APPENDED A POSTSCRIPT 
 BY H. N. BRAILSFORD 
 
T MAY BE we shall rise the last 
 as Frenchmen rose the first; 
 
 Our wrath come after Russia’s wrath, and 
 our wrath be the worst.” 
 
 g. K. CHESTERTON 
 

 FOREWORD 
 
 T O congratulate the Russian people on their free- 
 dom, and to demand a similar freedom for the people 
 of this country, there was held on March 3 1st 1917 
 at Albert Hall one of the most important meet- 
 ings of modern times. The speakers represented 
 all that is most advanced in the Trade Union, 
 Labour, Socialist and Radical movements. The 
 hall was packed out, and five thousand people 
 were turned disappointed from the doors. The 
 whole tone of the meeting was overwhelmingly pacifist and inter- 
 nationalist. Though, of course, there was some difference of opinion on 
 such matters among the speakers and among the many distinguished 
 men and women who sat on the platform or sent messages of sympathy 
 and encouragement, it was noticeable that the more uncompromising 
 the sentiments of the speakers, the greater was the enthusiasm of the 
 vast audience. Indeed, it was as an expression of popular feeling, as 
 the utterance of a truly democratic voice, that the meeting had its 
 greatest significance. No words can describe, and no report of the 
 speeches can hope to convey, the passion which inspired the meeting 
 — its singleness of purpose, its resentment of oppression, its desire for 
 the coming of a new day. It was felt by everyone present that here 
 was the beginning — a revolution in thought, a revolution in way 
 of life. Held to welcome the Russian Revolution, the meeting may 
 yet prove to have inaugurated a new era in Great Britain. In spite of 
 the dishonest secrecy and suppression practised by the corrupt Press 
 (the “Sunday Times” reported that “Mr. Robert Smillie denounced 
 J the Conscientious Objectors ”), the message of such a meeting must 
 l travel far and wide, and already great provincial and local gatherings 
 ■> on the same model have been held. Meanwhile, those responsible for 
 rf the Albert Hall Meeting have felt that it should be commemorated 
 by the publication of the speeches in permanent form. A long report 
 ± has already appeared in the “Herald,” but it is felt that the occasion 
 calls for a special publication. In what follows, though space cannot 
 be found for a literally verbatim report, the actual words of the 
 speakers are nowhere departed from, and the report is an authorised 
 one. The resolution, which was passed unanimously amid scenes of 
 the greatest enthusiasm, ran : 
 
 J This Meeting sends joyful congratulations to the Democrats of Russia^ 
 
 3 . and calls upon the Governments of Great Britain and of eatery country , 
 neutral and belligerent alike , to follow the Russian example by establish- 
 ing Industrial Freedom , Freedom of Speech and the Press , the Abolition 
 - of Social^ Religious , and National inequalities , an immediate Amnesty 
 for Political and Religious offence j, and Universal Suffrage. 
 
 3 
 
'THE RUSSIAN CHARTER 
 OF FREEDOM 
 
 INDUSTRIAL FREEDOM - FRED 
 DOM OF SPEECH AND OF THE 
 PRESS ' THE ABOLITION OF 
 SOCIAL RELIGIOUS AND 
 NATIONAL INEQUALITIES 
 AMNESTY FOR POLITICAL AND 
 RELIGIOUS OFFENCES 'UNI- 
 VERSAL SUFFRAGE 
 
 The Russian Provisional Government , re- 
 sponsible for this Charter , has stated “ that 
 it has no intention of taking advan- 
 tage of the existence of war 
 conditions to delay the 
 realisation 
 
 of the above-mentioned measures of reform 
 
 4 
 
GEORGE LANSBURY 
 
 ALL SORTS AND CONDITIONS OF MEN AND WOMEN ARE IN THIS 
 HALL TO-NIGHT. I BELIEVE THAT IT IS THE MOST REPRESENTATIVE 
 INTERNATIONAL MEETING THAT HAS BEEN HELD SINCE THE INTER- 
 national Socialist Congress in this country. W e meet here to celebrate 
 one of the great historical events in the history of the world. I was 
 going to say the greatest historical event, because those of us who 
 have been in the Labour and Socialist movement have at times 
 imagined that if there was one country in the world that would 
 always be backward it was Russia. Yet here, in the midst of a 
 tremendous war, a Russian revolution which thousands of men 
 and women in the last fifty or sixty years have given their lives 
 to make has been brought to a successful issue. (Applause.) It is 
 a great and glorious thought that you gather up this work, that 
 you gather up all the work of the men and women and the 
 boys and girls of Russia who have given all they had to give for 
 Russian liberty. This triumph has come, friends, because for the 
 first time that I know of in history — at least, in modern history — 
 soldiers, working-class soldiers, have refused to fire on the workers. 
 (Loud and continued cheers.) To me, comrades, that is the greatest 
 lesson of all. On Bloody Sunday they had not learnt that lesson ; 
 they have learnt it now, and it is for us to learn it now— (great ap- 
 plause) — because we can understand that when the working classes 
 of all nations refuse to shoot down the working classes of other 
 countries, Governments won’t be able to make wars any more. 
 (Loud cheers.) This war would end to-morrow if the troops on 
 all sides marched out into No Man’s Land and refused to fight any 
 longer. (Cheers.) 
 
 Mr. Lloyd George is head of a great Government. (Hisses.) Com- 
 rades, don’t let us hoot anyone here! We may disagree about lots of 
 things, but we are all wanting to celebrate a giant proletarian revolt • 
 we don’t want to bother our heads about hooting anyone. And 
 I believe this — that if he and his colleagues would whole-heartedly 
 back the programme sent out by the Revolutionary Labour Party 
 of Russia, we could get an International that would be a bulwark 
 for the future freedom of the whole of the human race. Now 
 we English people have to clear our own doorstep. I stood here 
 just about three years ago: almost where Williams is sitting sat 
 James Connolly. (Cheers.) He and his murdered colleagues of a year 
 ago were just too soon, that is all; and, friends, we British people 
 have got to clear that Irish question up, because until we do it is not 
 for us to celebrate other people’s triumphs over reaction. Further, 
 
 5 
 
there are to-night hundreds of young Englishmen in gaol for their 
 beliefs; there are to-night thousands of young men in India in gaol. 
 The people of India, the people of Ireland, the people of Ceylon, ask 
 that we who claim to be the leaders of democracy in the world shall 
 put our principles into practice at home. Now most of us here, every 
 man and every woman who is gathered in this hall, have some sort 
 of feeling and love and care for other men and other women, and I 
 think the one great outstanding thing to realise in regard to Russia 
 and the working-class movement is just this, that if this great human 
 race is to work out its salvation, it is by men and women like you 
 and me doing it. You have to get rid of the idea that someone else 
 can emancipate you, someone else can save you. W e here in Britain — 
 what is the thing that keeps us backward ? It is our jealousies, our fears, 
 and anxiety to find out where we disagree instead of where we agree. 
 I want to see this Russian movement impelling you and me to catch 
 their unity, their enthusiasm, and be ready to suffer, and if needs be 
 to die, for our faith. Men and women, the hardest thing is to live 
 for our faith, and that is what you and I have got to do. Do not go 
 home without realising that in British prisons, for religious, for poli- 
 tical offences, some of the best of the young men of this country are 
 lying. Do not forget that in Russia they have thrown open the 
 prisons. (Cheers.) Do not forget that in Russia they have put down 
 police spies. 
 
 To the young men — if there are any here; to the young women — 
 there are many here — I want to say this : you are celebrating to-night 
 a tremendous thing. It is fine to cheer these other people, fine to feel 
 you can sing about them, talk about them ; a finer thing still is to follow 
 their example. (Loud and prolonged cheers.) It is men and women 
 of goodwill, irrespective of race, irrespective of class or religion or 
 anything else, who will redeem the world. You men and women 
 gathered here in such magnificent numbers, go out with the words 
 of the song you have sung ringing in your ears, and remember always 
 the duty laid upon each one of you, “Quit you like men, be strong/’ 
 
 H. W. NEVINSON 
 
 Men and women, I have been put up to speak first after our 
 chairman because I happen to be one of the few Englishmen who were 
 present during those glorious and terrible scenes of the Russian revolu- 
 tion in St. Petersburg and Moscow twelve years ago ; and in con- 
 sequence I have had the privilege granted me of speaking to a theme 
 which requires no eloquence and for which the highest eloquence 
 would be inadequate — for I am to speak to the honour and memory 
 of those men and women, boys and girls, who have suffered and died 
 for the cause of Russian freedom. It is a long and glorious roll of 
 honour, and from that roll of honour I would not exclude any party 
 or denomination or race in Russia which has contributed to the 
 struggle. I would include the people who were called Nihilists, and 
 
 6 
 
the Social Democrats of Russia, and the Social Revolutionaries of 
 Russia, and the victims who fell on Bloody Sunday, January, 1905, 
 and those who died, as I saw them die, upon the barricades in 
 Moscow, and those who died in that terrible repression of the revolu- 
 tion under the hang-rope ^ that they called Stoly pin’s necktie, and 
 those who were betrayed by provocative agents more infamous in 
 ignominy even than the man Gordon, whom our Government has 
 not disdained to use; and I would also include those who have 
 striven within the last ten years for the maintenance of the Duma, 
 be they Social Democrats or Constitutional Democrats. I will net 
 here give you a long list of names, but I think we must mention the 
 names of a few women, such as Sophie Perovsky, Vera Figner, Vera 
 Zassulitch, Marie Spiridonova, and Katherine Breshkovsky, the aged 
 grandmother, as she is called, of the Revolution, who now, to our 
 great joy, is returning from Siberia to the country she has served. 
 And here in England we are especially bound to mention the names 
 of glorious Russian exiles, such as Stepniak, Felix Volkhovsky, 
 Nicholas Tchaikovsky, and that great friend of us all, and of all men 
 of good will, Peter Kropotkin. Those are great names; but what shall 
 I say of that great cloud of witnesses, unnamed, unknown, unre- 
 membered, the men and women, the boys and girls, who spent years 
 of hideous monotony shut up in such fortresses as that of St. Peter 
 and Paul, where on one side you can see the marble domes of the 
 Tsar’s Dynasty and on the other the glorious walls sanctified by the 
 blood and tears of the martyrs of freedom? What shall I say of those 
 men and women who were forced to march from stage to stage and 
 from one dreary barrack to another on their way to the inhospitable 
 and cold deserts into which they sank as into the oblivion of the 
 tomb; or those I have seen hunted up and down the streets of St. 
 Petersburg and Moscow by mounted Cossacks with heavy loaded 
 whips of leather and lead; or those who were hunted to death by 
 the secret police, who were betrayed by provocative agents, who 
 were handed over to the most terrible tortures that fiendish ingenuity 
 can invent, or the human frame can endure, in the torture chambers 
 of Riga and Warsaw? It is less than ten years ago that men and 
 women, 2,100 of them, were hanged within three years — an average 
 of about two a day — and that the Russian prisons were crowded with 
 181,000 men and women, chiefly political prisoners, and that 84,000 
 were sent to Siberia. It is for us that those men and women suffered : 
 in tears and sorrow they planted the seed^ of which we now reap the 
 harvestin joy. With their stripes we are healed. In 1885 the American 
 writer, George Kennan, in passing through Siberia, met Katherine 
 Breshkovsky, then a young woman of thirty or thirty-five, and as 
 they parted she said, 14 We may die in prison and exile, our children 
 may die in prison and exile, our children’s children may die in prison 
 and exile, but something must come of it in the end.” Something has 
 come of it now, and I wish we could penetrate the darkness into 
 which those noble men and women have passed, so that we could 
 
 7 
 
tell them that not all in vain has been their heroic struggle. Men and 
 women, there is a custom in Russia, at the beginning of meetings like 
 this, which, I think, we might imitate here to-night. It is the custom, 
 in memory of those who have suffered and died for the Revolution, 
 for all the audience to rise and stand silent for a few seconds, to show 
 that they do not forget what has been done for the cause. I call 
 upon the audience to rise now in memory of those who have died 
 and suffered for the Russian Revolution, to show that we do not 
 forget what they have done for us all. 
 
 At these words the audience of ten thousand rose as one and stood 
 silent for some seconds , and then hro\e into cheers. 
 
 ROBERT SMILLIE 
 
 I am asked to speak to one particular phase of the resolution. It is 
 refreshing at this time of day to be in a position to speak freely of 
 revolution— (cheers)— in Russia! (Laughter and cheers.) A few 
 weeks ago I ventured to express my regret that our people were fight- 
 ing side by side with the Russian Army for the alleged freedom of 
 small nations, while its men and women were being sent to prison 
 for political offences. I was told that I had brought myself danger- 
 ously near a breach of the Defence of the Realm — (laughter) — and 
 now the Government and the politicians by congratulating Russia are 
 proving that I was right then. I am delighted to be here to-night to 
 take part in this monster meeting to send our congratulations to our 
 brothers and sisters in Russia. I sincerely hope that we are sending 
 those congratulations to a free nation. I sincerely hope that the 
 Revolution is a revolution of the democracy, and that a free people 
 has been established in that great and magnificent country. If that 
 is so it will do more to bring about and strengthen a real international 
 movement of the world than anything else I know of. While I am 
 not sure whether this meeting is sending a message to a free nation, 
 I am sure that we are not a free nation ourselves ; and it is almost a 
 mockery for men and women who are not themselves free, men and 
 women, large numbers of whom are still denied the right to have 
 views in the making of the laws of their counry, to send congratu- 
 lations to Russia. During the past eighteen months we have had a 
 class of people in our own country who have been called cowards 
 by certain sections of the people and of the Press, men who are con- 
 scientious objectors — (loud and prolonged cheers) — men who refuse 
 at the bidding of a Government to shoot down their fellow-men. 
 (Cheers.) Many of those people have been tortured in this country. 
 We and our Press have often condemned torture in Russia, but we 
 have no right to condemn torture and persecution in Russia if we 
 allow it at home; and I think no truthful person will say that the 
 young men who have had the courage to face the Government and 
 to face the military authorities of this country, to go to prison, to be 
 tortured, were cowards. We have had magnificent courage in France 
 
 8 
 
and Flanders and on all the fronts, courage shown by men of all 
 nationalities; we have had splendid heroism— would to Heaven it 
 had been in a better cause than killing each other! (Cheers.) We 
 have had splendid heroism amongst all ranks of our own and the 
 other armies, deeds of great valour; but it does not require the same 
 courage to go into the trenches as it does to face the opprobrium and 
 the condemnation that our conscientious objectors have been face 
 to face with. I have some right to speak. I have lads in the Army, 
 and I have lads who are not and will not be in the Army. I give as 
 much credit to those who refuse as to those who have joined. There 
 has been suffering, unjust suffering, in our own country, and it is 
 not confined even to the thousands of conscientious objectors who 
 have been court-martialled : we too have “political offenders.” We 
 have no right to call ourselves a free nation so long as this lasts. The 
 time has come when we should follow the glorious example of Russia 
 and set those men free. The Russian Revolution has prevented, I 
 hope, one of the most brutal actions which could have been done by 
 our own Government, and that was the sending back to Russia of 
 men who came here as exiles. (Cries of “Shame!”) If Russia is free 
 send them back now if you like ! I hold in my hand a regulation of 
 a West Indian island, in which it is laid down that any person join- 
 ing a Trade or Labour Union or having any communication with a 
 Trade or Labour Union is to be fined £50 — (“Shame!”) — or six 
 months’ imprisonment, in the option of the magistrate. They can be 
 fined £6 if they talk about a Trade Union, write about a Trade 
 Union, collect for a Trade Union. The question has been asked in 
 the British House of Commons, Is it true? Mr. Long has replied that 
 it is true— (“Shame!”) — that it is suspected that a pro-German is 
 organising the people there. The Government have suspected a lot 
 recently ! Mr. Long said that this has the consent of our Government, 
 though it has not yet been enforced. We cannot have slavery in any 
 part of the British Dominions and be ourselves free. Men and women, 
 the business of these people in the West Indian island is our busi- 
 ness. I want you to make this part of the resolution the strongest of 
 all, that the Government must release every person suffering in prison 
 for a political offence — (cheers) — and when Labour Ministers tell 
 you that you must suffer many things just now because we are at 
 war, and when you are told that the Government will not do what 
 you are asking here, I tell you the Government must do what the 
 people of this country desire — (cheers)— and it will lie with the 
 people of great Britain to prove to the people of Russia whether 
 we are worthy of sending such a message as is contained in this 
 resolution. (Cheers.) 
 
 ROBERT WILLIAMS 
 
 We send our thanks, our praise and appreciationtomen and women 
 of all classes in Russia who have contributed to the cause of the 
 glorious Revolution. But as a member of the working class it comes 
 
 9 
 
to me as a great pleasure to congratulate the members of the working 
 class in Russia who were the corner-stone of the Revolution. Those 
 of us who are connected with the industrial movement in this country 
 are going to deal to-night with the rights of industrial freedom in the 
 light of the Russian Revolution. During the prosecution of the war 
 we have seen the rights of organised Labour hampered, ignored and 
 thwarted. Defence of the Realm Regulations have been devised, a 
 Munitions Act has been perpetrated, Orders in Council have been 
 passed, and other measures have been created to prevent the working 
 class from taking advantage of their essential rights of organisation and 
 combination. In my judgment the Defence of the Realm Regulations 
 are calculated more to defend the rights and privileges of the profiteer- 
 ing classes than the rights of the sovereign realm. (Loud applause.) 
 We have seen the rivets, the chains and the gyves being fastened 
 round the limbs of the working people, and when we have demanded 
 restrictions upon the desires of the profit-mongering and profiteering 
 class we have been told by Ministers and politicians, by those who 
 represent the inner Cabinet of the nation, that you cannot interfere 
 with the inexorable laws of supply and demand ! At a time when 
 Labour and Labour's powerful organisation is stultified, we see the 
 agriculturists refusing to sow and reap unless they can get their own 
 price for a commodity, and we see the profiteers heaping up moun- 
 tains of profits, which they are putting in the War Loan to make 
 us and those who come after us their slaves and dependents. {Cheers.) 
 We are told that there must be a further dilution of labour. I want 
 seriously to suggest that the time is coming when we must demand 
 a dilution of capital — (cheers) — especially that of shipowners, mine- 
 owners, war contractors, financiers, and the others who are investing 
 their ill-gotten war profits in the War Loan. 
 
 For the debts of the parents will be debited to the children even unto 
 the third and fourth generation. We have been told — the working 
 people have been told — in the words of the recruiting posters, “It is 
 your flag. Work for it ! Fight for it ! ” I say to the profiteering classes, 
 “ The land and the industrial capital is yours. Pay for the defence of 
 it !” (Cheers). When I suggest that capital must be diluted I mean 
 this, that we must reduce the interest upon the War Loan from 
 5 per cent, to 4 per cent., to 3 per cent., and even to 1 per cent., and 
 then we must dilute that too. We are going to assert our inalienable 
 rights to use our Trade Union organisation, and there are some of 
 us, two of my friends on my right and left, who are prepared to 
 “damn the consequences.” (Cheers.) A few weeks ago my friends 
 Smillie and Bellamy, with three of our colleagues and myself, waited 
 upon the Prime Minister and the Inner Cabinet of five at Downing 
 Street; and we said, “We have made up our minds irrevocably that 
 we will not countenance the introduction of indentured coloured 
 labour into this country.” Nor will we. Further than that, my 
 friends, a sinister scheme is afoot to introduce indentured British 
 white labour, through the means of compulsory industrial service. 
 
 10 
 
Now we will use the great Triple Alliance of Railway Workers, 
 Miners, and Transport Workers — at least we will advise the use of 
 that organisation— -as resolutely against indentured white labour as 
 against indentured coloured labour. I would like to utter some 
 words of warning, if they can reach as far, to Messrs. Neville 
 Chamberlain and Arthur Henderson. We will not tolerate indus- 
 trial servitude. (Cheers.) 
 
 We have recently seen that British Labour is to be represented in 
 Russia by two nominees of the majority of the Labour Party or of 
 the Government. We say these nominees are not representative of 
 the British Working-Class Movement. I suggest that if they go we 
 should ask for passports for representatives of our movement, men 
 who are real internationalists, like Smillie, Lansbury, and Anderson. 
 (Loud cheers). 
 
 Those of us who are Internationalists find our minds and souls 
 exultant at the glorious message which has come through from the 
 Russian Workmen and Soldiers 1 Delegates — in my judgment it is the 
 tocsin of revolt for every country in Europe. I quote : 
 
 THE RUSSIAN MANIFESTO 
 
 Brothers of the Proletariat , — Russia will steadfastly defend her 
 own liberty from all reactionary onslaughts , within and without. The 
 time has come to begin a decisive struggle against the conquest aspira- 
 tions of the Governments of all countries. The time has come for the 
 peoples to take into their hands the decision of the questions of war 
 and peace. Conscious of its revolutionary strength 5 Russian democracy 
 proclaims that it will combat in every way the ruling classes policy 
 of conquest, and it calls on the peoples of Europe to take common 
 decisive action in the interest of peace. Workers of all countries , in 
 extending to you a fraternal hand over mountains of brothers 1 corpses , 
 across rivers of innocent blood and tears , and through the smoking 
 ruins of towns and villages and the destroyed treasures of civilisation) 
 we summon you to a renewal and strengthening of international unity. 
 Therein lies a gage of our victory and of our complete freedom. 
 
 Friends, some of us have complained at the fatuous policy proclaimed 
 by the majority of Social Democrats of Germany, who went gladly 
 into the war because they thought that they were contributing 
 to the destruction of Tsardom beyond their Eastern frontiers. But 
 German militarism has been calculated to sustain and support the 
 institution of Tsardom in Russia. It is now clear that it is the 
 Russians themselves who are responsible for bringing about their 
 own measure of freedom. Friends, I want you to realise the analogy. 
 Some of us are thinking we may by force of arms destroy Prussian 
 militarism. Prussian militarism can only be destroyed by Germans 
 in Germany. (Cheers.) They strike best for freedom who strike the 
 
 11 
 
hardest blows in their own country. In so far as we can emulate 
 the splendid example of Russia, so shall we be in Britain and Germany 
 and throughout Europe, bringing nearer a lasting and honourable 
 peace. (Cheers.) 
 
 ISRAEL ZANGWILL 
 
 As a representative of the race which has suffered more than any 
 other from the old Russia, I am very happy on this great occasion to 
 add my word of welcome to the new Russia. (Cheers.) But I must con- 
 fess myself surprised at the unabashed tone which reigns here, for I 
 gathered from a recent leader in the “Times,” entitled “British Labour 
 and the Russian Revolution,” that you were all against Russia and 
 any truck with her. And now that Russia has been proved the friend 
 of liberty, not its enemy, now that the objection to our Alliance with 
 her is seen to have been unjust, “ will the Labour pacifists and pro- 
 Germans,” asks the “Times,” “have the manliness to recant? ” Such an 
 appeal from such a champion of liberty, the only begetter of the 
 Russian Supplements and of Mr. Stephen Graham, would, I thought, 
 be irresistible. (Loud laughter.) I expected to see all of you Labour 
 leaders — all of you, at apy rate, with any spark of manliness — stand- 
 ing here at the penitent’s table, draped in white sheets. Nay, editors 
 like Mr. Lansbury wrapped in their own journals. But you seem to 
 think that this demand of Lord Northcliffe’s is only the brazen crow- 
 ing of the weathercock. (Cheers and laughter.) You seem to imply 
 that it is rather Lord Northcliffe who should be standing here doing 
 penance, wrapped in the “Times.” I should agree with you but for one 
 small consideration — the “T imes” is not a white sheet. But LordNorth- 
 cliffe is not the only weathercock that has been crowing. Nearly all 
 the great organs of England, alas ! — dailies, weeklies, monthlies — have 
 similarly saluted the sunrise, with all the air of Rostand’s chanticleer 
 who thought he had brought it about. We democrats never de- 
 nounced Russia: we denounced only the Russian Government. 
 (Cheers.) We welcomed to our shores the representatives of the 
 Duma: it was only the Tsar we never let land here. We always 
 recognised that there was a Holy Russia — it was not the Russia of 
 church candles and ikons, but the Holy Russia of the struggle for 
 liberty. But our rulers and our Press have been backing the wrong 
 Russia. (Loud applause.) There was a literary and political conspiracy 
 to beslaver and bolster up despotism, superstition, and reaction ; a 
 conspiracy which, aided, or rather enforced, by a brainless censorship, 
 made an atmosphere asphyxiating to all free thought, and turned this 
 war for freedom and for oppressed nationalities into an unreal night- 
 mare. And what was the result of this audacious attempt to paint 
 Russia rosy ? Did it help to win the war ? Quite the contrary. It 
 nearly lost it. It alienated all intelligent neutrals, disheartened Rus- 
 sia’s best elements, embittered all her persecuted minorities, whose 
 oppressions were actually increased, not relaxed, during the war, and 
 
it encouraged only the pro-German bureaucracy, which all but suc- 
 ceeded in engineering a separate peace. We may well ask the “Times” 
 who are the real pro-Germans, we or Lord Northcliffe ? In pursu- 
 ance of this nigh fatal policy and in deference to the Russian Embassy, 
 a play of my own — a play to which Cabinet Ministershad originally 
 written testimonials — was dragged from the limelight. For it ripped 
 up the picture of Rosy Russia painted by a thousand hireling hands 
 — that picture of the one really Christian country, where the bear 
 lay down with the baby, where Grand Dukes turned the other cheek 
 and even the capitalist went about singing Christmas carols. (Loud 
 laughter.) And simultaneously with this creation of a fairy Russia, 
 Professors arose to declare that the real Russia, the Russia of knouts, 
 and gaolers, and Siberia, was only an invention of novelists. The 
 pliability of Professors is one of the saddest features of the war. 
 Even Professor Gilbert Murray has found the policy of Viscount 
 Grey a model of detailed perfection. And Professor J. W. Mackail 
 wrote in his twopenny pamphlet, “ Russia’s Gift to the World,” that 
 the Russian spy and the Russian conspirator, as popularly conceived, 
 are figures of melodrama, not actual life. “To novel writers,” he 
 says, “ Russia has been a happy hunting-ground, where they could 
 lay on their colours as they chose and make scenes as fantastic as 
 those of the Arabian Nights.” What would this gentleman say, I 
 wonder, to that fantastic Arabian land in which a drunken peasant 
 monk with a harem could rule Emperors and Empresses, sway the 
 fate of Armageddon, and be lured to his assassination at the hands of 
 a Grand Duke by a member of the Duma disguised as a chauffeur ? 
 And our scoffers at the novelistic knout — what would they say to 
 the calculation endorsed by Miliukoff, that 150 political prisoners had 
 received among them some 5,625 lashes ; or to the report vouched 
 for by Gorki that “ batches of prisoners were flogged as they arrived, 
 until they fell fainting on the stone floor, and wakened to find them- 
 selves surrounded by the nearly naked bodies of groaning men ;” 
 that, out of a batch of forty so handled, fourteen died ? One girl, 
 according to a Russian newspaper of 1908, received 500 lashes. Dur- 
 ing this very war there have been hundreds of pogroms against the 
 loyal Jewish population, millions of whom, moreover, were driven 
 from their homes. Even crippled Jewish soldiers, with the cross of 
 valour, were hounded from the cities they had helped to save. As 
 for the “ myth ” of Siberia, the Duma itself was not immune — wit- 
 ness the five Social Democrats banished there. And the Scribes and 
 Pharisees who backed up this Russia, and from whom no whisper of 
 encouragement came to the struggling Russian people, now have the 
 brasenness — (cheers)— to rejoiceattheRevolution.What in the name 
 of the Prince of Lies are they rejoicing over ? How could the Para- 
 dise they depicted be changed, except for the worst ? Do they not 
 see that their jubilations over the new Russia are a judgment upon 
 themselves, that every cheer they raise is their own condemnation? 
 (Loud applause.) They confess now, these Judases of journalism, these 
 
 13 
 
Parliamentary parasites of success, that Russia was always a dead- 
 weight in the Alliance, a political incubus ; that, in fact, England was 
 ashamed of her. And this was the real truth, and the best Russians 
 knew it, and it distressed them. But what is the position to-day ? 
 By the irony of history just as Russia has gained a constitution we 
 have lost ours. (Loud cheering.) And instead of our having the right 
 to be ashamed of Russia, it is Russia that may soon be ashamed of 
 us. Evil communications corrupt good manners. What was worst 
 in Russia was wafted over here : the Censorship, the passport, the 
 police documentation, the prohibited zone, the “ oblawa,” or drive of 
 human beings, the persecution of religious sects— for what else is the 
 conscription of Quakers? — the“okhrana 11 or secret police, the “ agent 
 provocateur,’ 1 the farcical trial ; even, on a mild scale, the pogrom. If 
 Russia has turned into England, England has turned into Russia. If 
 we have no Grand Dukes we have Lord Northcliffe, and if we have 
 no royal autocrat we have Lloyd George, who has ignored the House 
 of Commons and given the Cabinet the knock-out blow. (Cheers.) 
 No doubt Lloyd George loves freedom — has he not welcomed the 
 Russian Revolution as a resounding blow for liberty? But like the 
 king who, when he had dined well, thought his people happy, Lloyd 
 George thinks because he can do exactly as he pleases, therefore old 
 England was never such a land of liberty as to-day. (Loud laughter and 
 cheers.) Now, Mr. Lloyd George, tempered by the constitution, may 
 be all very well, but unalloyed George — (laughter)— is a national 
 danger. And, therefore, we hope that the first effect of the Russian 
 Revolution will be to give us back our Duma. To the new Russia 
 we look for the redemption of the new England. At the very begin- 
 ning of the war I ventured— as one of an ancient people of sorrows, 
 experienced in the ways of despots— to warn my guileless fellow- 
 citizens, who were making ducks and drakes of the freedom be- 
 queathed to them by their forefathers, that it is infinitely easier to 
 give up one’s liberties than to get them back. The simple Englishman, 
 unused to tyrants, imagines that the tiger which has tasted blood will 
 still pay regard to the Food Controller. (Laughter.) He does not know 
 that all who have power abuse it. We have always prided ourselves 
 —not over- wisely— on the cautiousness of our Liberalism ; boasted 
 that our 
 
 Freedom broadens slowly down 
 
 From precedent to precedent. 
 
 Would at least there were similar caution in our reactions from 
 Liberalism! But, alas! our freedom tumbles swiftly down from preci- 
 pice to precipice. (Cheers and laughter.) Does anybody know what 
 law we are living under now, if there still is any law ? I ordered a 
 copy of the Defence of the Realm Act. The bookseller inquired 
 which volume, as there were several hundreds. Such an Act is a 
 ‘Destruction of the Realm Act. The war after the war must not be a war 
 against German trade but a war to win back England from our home- 
 born Huns. (Cheers.) Even Russia, whose “agents provocateurs” we 
 
have now imitated, never refused to produce them in Court. That 
 refusal was worse even than murdering Lloyd George — it was mur- 
 dering the soul of England. (Loud applause.) And the sanctity and 
 stability of the State are equally undermined when there is talk of 
 industrial conscription, or the importation of coloured labour, or 
 domiciliary police inspection, or when taxes are collected with an 
 unscrupulousness unknown to Turkey. Who gave the Government 
 power to do these things? Whence comes their mandate — a word 
 so often in their mouths when we stood on this platform demand- 
 ing votes for women and were told they hadn’t got it? We say to- 
 night that this autocracy must end, as it has ended in Russia. We 
 demand a vote for the people in all future foreign policies, in all 
 treaties, in all alliances, in all peace settlements, and, above all, in all 
 wars. (Cheers.) As I look round this colossal assembly it is borne in 
 on me that precisely such a mass of living humanity - counting all 
 belligerents — has been murdered and mutilated this very day, and 
 that the same mass has been mutilated and murdered every day for 
 nigh a thousand days. And I say, Never again ! (Loud cheers.) 
 
 In celebrating this Revolution to-night, our first thought and our 
 last word should be of those brave soldiers of freedom, those men, 
 women, and girls, lashed and tortured, starved and driven to suicide 
 in verminous dungeons, shot without sentence, hanged by bungling 
 amateurs, sent to rot in exile. They seem to be here with us to-night, 
 these racked spirits, but at peace and exultant at last, knowing that 
 the price they paid was not in vain. Some of these great souls are 
 happily still in the flesh, witness the noble veteran who has so long 
 honoured our country with his presence — Prince Kropotkin. And 
 still more heartening is the triumphal return to Petrograd after forty- 
 six years in Siberia of the beloved grandmother of the Revolution, 
 Catherine Breshkovsky. It all serves to remind us that the mills of 
 God do grind, however slowly. (Cheers.) And among these martyrs 
 there sweeps before me the long array of those heroic young Jews 
 whose Bund was the brains of the movement for freedom; and who 
 died equally for Russia and for the prisoners of the Pale. That Pale 
 is now to be swept away, with every other oppressive discrimina- 
 tion of race and sect. For the great gesture with which the new 
 Russia has freed my people at a stroke Ido not thank her : I congratu- 
 late her. (Cheers.) I rejoice with her that Russia is at last able to look 
 civilisation in the face, for the persecution and massacre of her Jews 
 weighed upon all her noblest sons. Gorki, Andreiev, Sologoub, 
 Mereshkovsky — all confessed that it was staining their own history, 
 humiliating them before the world. I rejoice that this burden has 
 been lifted from the Russian soul as from the Jewish body. Hand- 
 in-hand with their Russian brothers will the Jews, drawing over 
 their agonies and oppressions the veil of forgiveness, go forward 
 with them to build the great Russia of the future, that real Holy 
 Russia which is already to-day a new inspiration to humanity, an 
 inspiration already working in Germany, in Ireland, among our 
 
 15 
 
women, among ourselves, and wheresoever the great glad hope of 
 the French Revolution— the message of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity 
 — still leaps unquenched in the human heart, an immortal aspiration. 
 (Loud cheers.) 
 
 MAUDE ROYDEN 
 
 I stand here to greet the principle of universal suffrage in the great 
 Russian charter of freedom, and I gather, from what some of the 
 speakers have said, that I should be the last person in this long row 
 of speakers to dare to send a message to Russia because she has set 
 her women free ; but I do not feel like that. The spirits in prison 
 may send a message to the spirits who are free. Universal freedom, 
 universal suffrage — that means something much more than just a 
 political privilege ; it means the recognition by Russia that every 
 human being counts for one, and no human being counts for more 
 than one, and that is the fundamental principle of their great charter 
 of freedom. Russia has made this great step forward, and those who 
 do not know Russia have been surprised at the swiftness with which 
 she went forward. We think of our long slow advance, from one 
 class to another, and from one sex to another, and it seems a kind of 
 dream that Russia should in one step have passed from bondage into 
 freedom. But those who have sat at the feet of Russia during the 
 last few years, or longer, know that if there is one thing that is 
 characteristic of Russian prophets and of Russian people it is a deep 
 reverence for other human beings, not only the unfortunate but even 
 the vile, not only those who are poor and suffering, but those who 
 are evil and degraded. The Russian never loses sight, as we do, of 
 the fact that every human being is redeemable, has somwhere in 
 him something that is noble, something to which you can appeal. 
 We are idealists in another way. We put on one side our dreams 
 and on the other reality, but Russia has passed in one leap from the 
 dream to the realisation. While we are still consulting with one 
 another, at conferences and in the House of Commons, whether 
 every man is really one man or whether, perhaps, some of them are 
 twins, whether women are really grown up at thirty or thirty 'five, 
 while we argue and haggle as to whether a female being is quite 
 human unless she is a municipal voter, whether this or that barrier 
 should be put up between this or that part of the people and the 
 expression of their will, while we do this so falteringly, so fumblingly, 
 we yet may send a message to those brave and gallant spirits who 
 dare the great deeds of the world in one stride; those who have done 
 what we have haggled over, those Russians with their visionary 
 prophetic logic based on the belief in the great heritage of every 
 human being. We shall follow in the distant or the near future that 
 heroic example which tomight we only celebrate, and I believe that, 
 like Russia, we must learn that people of all classes and all ways of 
 thought can help if they care about freedom and are willing to suffer 
 
 16 
 
for it. I do not desire to set one heroism against another. I will not 
 compare or contrast the heroism of Clifford Allen— (cheers) — with 
 the heroism of those who are here in khaki to-night — (cheers) — and 
 with all those who are not with us because they are in Hell some' 
 where in France. I cannot understand how anyone could for a 
 moment forget that the soldier and the conscientious objector alike 
 are risking everything for freedom. (Cheers.) 
 
 Russia’s Revolution has lifted us all into the light, and those of us 
 to whom the gradual loss of freedom in our own country was bring- 
 ing a sense of almost intolerable tragedy, can now take heart and 
 believe that where Russia has led the way Germany is going to 
 follow — for I see stated in the “ Times ” that the vote of the Social 
 Democrats in the Reichstag was only a sham revolt, and so we know 
 it must be a real one! (Laughter and applause.) Russia has started 
 and Germany is following. Shall England be too far behind? (Cries 
 of “ No!”) To-night we know that everything is possible. (Cheers.) 
 
 COMMANDER WEDGWOOD. M.P. 
 
 Most of us here to-night will never benefit personally by the free- 
 dom of the Russians, but the gift that the Revolution has given to 
 us all here is the greatest of all gifts, the gift of hope. I know the 
 rebels of the “ Herald ” — (cheers) — the little men, obscure, unknown, 
 the men who have broken their fists against the bars and failed ; men 
 who have lost their families, their jobs, their friends, their homes; 
 the fools and dreamers, the men who have lost everything except 
 faith. (Cheers.) These are the men to whom this star in the East is as 
 a sign in the sky, a sign in which soon we shall conquer. The 
 Russians are free, but they have given us the hope of freedom, and 
 when we rejoice with them, as we do to-night with the Russians of 
 to-day and the Russians of yesterday, let us remember also all those 
 rebels in other countries, in England and elsewhere, who have gone 
 under in the struggle. (A voice: “ Liebknecht,” and loud applause.) 
 Russia is free. What are we to do? Every real freedom lover stands 
 for the equality and freedom of all the races. If we feel.our responsi- 
 bilities for the belief that the democracy is international and irre- 
 spective of race or colour, then I say that it is our duty everywhere 
 to support those democracies when they are in trouble and to sup- 
 port them by every means in our power. 
 
 The next thing is this: it is our duty to look to our own house 
 and to see that that freedom which we acclaim in others is extended 
 to the best of our ability, not only to our own people here, but to 
 all people in our great democracies. I pass over the Irish question, 
 because it is an impertinence in an Englishman to deal with the in- 
 justices of Ireland. (Applause.) I passover, too, the woman question. 
 
 I pass over these things because the point I want to make is, we 
 have a duty also to India. I ktiow well enough that unless we 
 adhere to the old English principles of freedom for all the people in 
 
 17 
 
the British Empire, unless you treat your fellow-dtisens as though 
 they were reasonable individuals, they will not become reasonable 
 individuals, and you will not end by glorifying the name of England 
 but by degrading it in the dirt. I want to see as a result of this heroic 
 struggle, in which the Indians have taken no small part — I wish to 
 see an acknowledgment that men who are fit to stand side by side 
 with us in the trenches are also fit to stand side by side with us in 
 the government of their own country. (Cheers.) 
 
 A. BELLAMY 
 
 I hope, friends, that from to-night we shall send not only a 
 message to Russia, but a message from this meeting to the people of 
 this country, telling them that for the first time since the war started 
 we have had a meeting in order to hail a revolution, and that that 
 meeting, in hailing a revolution, hails the beginning of a revolution 
 in this country. (Cheers.) For years a large number of men in this 
 country have had the franchise. We have had certain liberties, but 
 we have found, even so, that warfare was constantly facing us; and, 
 depend upon it, the influences that bind the working people of this 
 country will yet have to be broken in Russia. So we express the 
 hope to-night that, in the drawing up of the charter of freedom, the 
 measure of it will go infinitely further than the measure we have 
 here. The capitalists in Russia I do not assume are any more benevo- 
 lent than they are here. I assume that the Russian working people 
 will have to work as hard for increases as we have to fight here. I 
 hope we shall not forget the illustration we have had since this war 
 commenced, of how one by one silken cords have been wound round 
 the necks of the people of this country, how one by one the liberties 
 of the people have been taken away, how one by one they have 
 taken away the little props we have leant upon, until they have 
 made us almost impotent to fight a fight that is a real fight and 
 affects the real life of the people. We want to win our liberties back. 
 We want our own people to win them even now. “We recognise 
 that your fight,” we say to the working people of Russia, “ is the 
 fight that we have here. You are going to use weapons that we have 
 tried to use for a very long time; see that they are stronger weapons 
 than we ever had ! ” And may I go further than that, and say not 
 only they shall be stronger, but the ideals of the people shall be higher 
 than we have ever been able to raise the ideals of the people? And 
 in conclusion, friends, may I suggest that this meeting shall not be 
 the end of this note, but shall only be the beginning? (Cheers.) That 
 from this meeting (and I am confident it echoes the desire and the 
 will of the large mass of the provinces) shall go not only a note to 
 Russia, but a note to the working classes of this country : “From now 
 we are going to unbind the chains that have bound us — (cheers) — 
 from now we are going to cut loose some of the silken cords, from now 
 we are going to try to do some of the controlling ourselves — (cheers) 
 
 18 
 
— -instead of allowing everything to be done for us.” As a people we 
 will rise up and say — and I am sure our comrades in the trenches will 
 help us when they come back — “ We have fought for long, and now 
 shall be the beginning of a revolution in this country ” — a revolution 
 that has a higher aim than merely moving kings, a revolution that 
 has for its aim what Kropotkin sets out as the aim and object of the 
 Russian people— namely, to work, night and day, week in and week 
 out, until we secure for the people that which is their right. (Loud 
 Cheers.) 
 
 ARTHUR LYNCH, M.R 
 
 I rise to sound two notes: one, amnesty for political prisoners; and 
 the other, the establishment of the republic. And, in using the word 
 republic, I noticed that at times speakers were inclined to shy at the 
 name for this country. But there is no good thing of which I would 
 like to deprive the people of this country also: and already you have 
 named it in the magnificent charter I have the pleasure to uphold — 
 for how is “ political freedom ” possible if a republic be not the 
 regime? For myself, long ago I divided all human beings into two 
 classes, republicans and lackies. (Applause.) I wish for the moment 
 to make a plea on behalf of political prisoners in this country and in 
 all the countries of the world, because I know from experience of 
 State trials that a State trial is never fair; the die is loaded against 
 the prisoner, and in nine cases out of ten his one effective defence 
 would be to put the Government in the dock in his place. (Applause.) 
 The Russian Revolutionists put their Government in the dock and 
 found it guilty. I hope this meeting will not dissolve away before 
 we see a concrete result in the establishment of a great Republican 
 Party. (Applause.) I would like to see not Imperial Federation, that 
 Pecksniffian imitation of the great German model, but in the Do- 
 minions a ring of real Republics united together only by the interests 
 of mutual defence, and I believe that programme is to be the solu^ 
 tion even of the Irish question itself. Now I have come here not so 
 much to argue as to enjoy myself, to feel my spirits revived by that 
 infectious enthusiasm of men who look forward to great ideals. The 
 famous French thinker, Pascal, said “ The heart has reasons which 
 reason cannot understand,” and to-night I experience that. My feeP 
 ings, my hopes, outrun my arguments and reason, and, looking at 
 this horrible war which is now convulsing and shaming humanity, 
 amongst all the lurid glare of the war itself I seem to distinguish also 
 another scene, the rosy fingers of the dawn of a new era; and I be- 
 lieve that the things that are now transpiring will echo on through 
 history for a thousand years, and generations yet unborn will look 
 back to the things before our eyes and to meetings such as this, and 
 in history it will be recorded that a new date took place when the 
 Russian Revolutionaries overthrew their secular tyranny, and this 
 date marked a new era for all the generations of men. 
 
 19 
 
W. C. ANDERSON, M.P. 
 
 We have been witnessing the dawn of political freedom in Russia; 
 and a meeting, nay, a great demonstration like this proves clearly 
 enough that the love of freedom, the faith in liberty, is not dead in 
 England. Russia, dark Russia, not the Russia of the people, but the 
 Russia of Tsars and Governments, has been a hindrance and a handi- 
 cap to freedom throughout Europe. Do you think that the conse- 
 quence of what has now happened in Russia is going to be confined 
 to Russia? The effect is going to be felt in every country. The 
 Russian people have struck a blow not for themselves alone, but for 
 free humanity throughout the earth. Aye, and they knew well what 
 they were fighting against; they have long memories in Russia. 
 They know what has been in the past, what political persecution 
 has meant. The long road to Siberia, the snow sometimes marked 
 with the blood of the bravest men and the bravest women inside the 
 Russian Empire, the knout, the prison, the dungeon, freedom marked 
 in its own blood, have been the story of dark Russia in the past. 
 Now comes a great gleam of hope, and that sunshine is going to 
 spread not only throughout Russia but throughout Europe, through- 
 out the world. We ask our Socialist comrades in Germany to re- 
 spond to the lead. (Loud and prolonged applause.) Freedom will 
 never be won by shrapnel from without. Every people must work 
 out their own destiny, their own emancipation, and that must happen 
 in Russia, in Germany, and in this country also. Now, my friends, 
 this is the strange irony, that whilst the cause of freedom is forging 
 ahead in Russia it is going back in England. It has been going back 
 in England during the last two and a half years, and there have-not 
 been over many champions of defence of economic and industrial 
 freedom and the rights of the people during that time. A few brave 
 journals we have had, journals like the “ Herald 11 — (applause)— the 
 Independent Labour Party and the “Labour Leader 11 — (applause) — 
 the British Socialist Party and their journal — (applause) — and time and 
 again the cause of industrial freedom has been bravely championed 
 by men like Mr. Massingham in his paper the “ Nation . 11 (Applause.) 
 I protest against the growth of autocracy and of compulsion in our 
 own country. We have to-day an increasingly servile House of 
 Commons. You have people being appointed in every direction, 
 Whitehall prohibitionsts, Whitehall controllers to control this, that, 
 and the other thing — as if they know anything about the needs of 
 the working class! People sometimes talk as if that meant Socialism. 
 Heaven help us, there is no Socialism in that! There is no Socialism 
 that / want that is not controlled by the people, that does not spring 
 from the people. We have been having the opposite; all freedom of 
 the subject, freedom of conscience, freedom of thought, has been re- 
 stricted more and more. We have on this pFatform a man like Mr. 
 Bertrand Russell. (Cheers.) Mr. Russell is a wicked and a seditious 
 person, but his sedition is of such a character that it can be delivered 
 
 20 
 
in Manchester but must not be let loose in Glasgow. Yet that policy 
 is not only a wicked policy, it is absolutely a futile and foolish policy. 
 They would not let Mr. Russell go to Glasgow to deliver a lecture 
 on “Political Ideals.” The result was they held in Glasgow a much 
 bigger meeting than if Mr. Russell had gone there personally, and 
 that splendid leader of the miners, Robert Smillie, read from the plat' 
 form every word which Mr. Russell would have said ! The time has 
 come, and urgently come, for rebuilding, for reconstruction, for the 
 winning back in this country the things that we have lost during 
 the last two and a half years. I venture to say this, that in that task 
 the men and the women who are here to-day and the men who are 
 in the trenches in France and elsewhere will join hands. The Russian 
 Revolution was won by an alliance between the workmen and the 
 soldiers. The conscript and Cossack soldiers of 1905, all well-dis- 
 ciplined soldiers, responded to the word of command, but to'day these 
 raw lads who have just been pulled from their homes and who have 
 not had the authority of militarism long upon them, were called upon 
 to shoot their own fathers and mothers, and they refused to do it — 
 (loud and prolonged cheers) — and because they refused to shoot the 
 red flag flies over the palace of the Imperial Tsar. And I tell you 
 this (I don’t say it for the first time to-night; I have been saying it 
 from hundreds of platforms in this country), that in my opinion this 
 war is going to develop among our people a far more revolutionary 
 spirit than we knew in the days before the war. We were asking 
 for small things in the days before the war. The cry was, “Where 
 is the money to come from?” What, in Heaven’s name, will they 
 say when the country is burdened with five thousand million pounds 
 of debt? Well, it is no good asking for little things in face of that. 
 It you ask for little things you won’t get them, and therefore you 
 have got to ask for the big things ; you have got to ask for the 
 government of the nation for the people by the people. And the real 
 future and the real issue, I believe, for Labour is this : Is the worker 
 going to be a mere helot, a mere wage labourer, as he has been ? It 
 is not a question of hours or wages ; it is a question of the status of 
 the workman ; and I want to see men and women joining hands to- 
 gether in order to establish a real co-operative commonwealth, a 
 Socialist commonwealth. And we are going to have no more war. 
 (Cheers.) So I ask you, friends, to be of good heart, and feel that 
 this day that has been in Russia is going to quicken the coming of 
 the people, and that we will follow after the Russians on their march. 
 In the words of William Morris, our Socialist poet: 
 
 “WHAT IS THIS, THE SOUND AND RUMOUR? 
 WHAT IS THIS THAT ALL MEN HEAR? . . . 
 THE PEOPLE MARCHING ON!” 
 
 21 
 
A POSTSCRIPT 
 BY H. N. BRAILSFORD 
 
 T HE ALBERT HALL MEETING was for 
 thousands of Englishmen a landmark in the moral 
 history of the war. We were thinking then only 
 of rejoicing with a sister democracy that it had 
 so greatly won its freedom, and of steeling our 
 own resolves to broaden our own liberties after 
 this great example. Since March 31 we have 
 realised that the Russian Revolution has an even 
 deeper significance for European Democracy. If 
 President Wilson has pointed the way, with the vision of a seer, to 
 an enduring and constructive peace, the Russian Revolution, with 
 an unflinching honesty and courage, has led the way in the internal 
 conflicts to secure it. We shall not win a great peace merely by 
 dreaming of the League of Nations : the way to that goal lies over 
 the ambitions and the wills of all the Imperialists of all the Powers. 
 
 Early in April the Russian Foreign Minister, Professor Miliukoff, 
 a Liberal of great ability and high character, challenged the Revolu- 
 tion in a statement made to the Press in which he included, among 
 Russia’s war aims, the annexation of Constantinople and the dis- 
 memberment of Austria and Turkey. The Council of Workmen’s 
 and Soldiers’ Delegates, after hearing a reassuring speech from 
 Kerensky, demanded from the Provisional Government a Note dis- 
 claiming all aims of conquest. The Note was promptly issued, and 
 to plain men could bear only one meaning. It was soon clear, how- 
 ever, that M. Miliukoff placed some private interpretation of his 
 own upon it. In interviews he repeated his plans of conquest, and 
 presently sent out the Note itself to the Allied Governments with 
 a covering despatch, which reduced it to a meaningless equivocation. 
 He adhered, out of loyalty to the Allies, to all the secret treaties 
 concluded by the Romanoffs with the Allies, for the partition of 
 Austria and Turkey. These treaties he would not disclose ; with 
 all the Imperialist aims of the old regime, he meant to continue also 
 its tradition of a secret, double-dealing diplomacy. 
 
 A crisis followed in which Petrograd and Moscow were stirred 
 to their depths. Immense processions were formed, and some regi- 
 ments of soldiers paraded with placards bearing the words “ No 
 Annexations! ” “Down with Miliukoff !” The Provisional Govern- 
 ment met the Executive of the Workmen’s Council, and a fresh 
 Note was drafted, which reaffirmed the original declaration and 
 explained away the dangerous phrases in M. Miliukoff’s despatch. 
 Confidence was not yet restored. The future was not safe while 
 M. Miliukoff remained at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and it 
 was only by the bare majority of 35 in a House of 2,500 delegates 
 
 22 
 
that the Workmen’s Council passed a vote of confidence in the 
 Ministry. 
 
 The result was that the Provisional Government recognised that 
 its position had become untenable. M. Miliukoff resigned his office, 
 and the Workmen’s Council consented to nominate Socialist 
 ministers who will occupy approximately half the seats in the 
 Cabinet. They are not hostages, who hold office, as Socialists do 
 elsewhere, as a pledge for the good behaviour of Labour. They con- 
 trol the Government and wield the power. The Revolution which 
 first destroyed Tsardom, has won its scarcely less difficult battle 
 with Imperialism. 
 
 From this victory Russian Socialism rises to summon the reunited 
 Proletariat of Europe to prepare an early general peace by bringing 
 all its Governments to a like repudiation of their aims of conquest. 
 The Dutch proposal for an International Socialist Conference has 
 broken down, mainly through the manoeuvres of the Allied capital- 
 ist Press. In its' place the Russian Workmen’s Council has now 
 issued an invitation to a Socialist Conference of all belligerents and 
 neutrals, which it will summon itself in a neutral city. The prestige 
 of the Revolution is too great for a refusal. The Conference will be 
 held, and for the first time in the history of civilisation the working- 
 class and the idealists of Socialism have the opportunity of imposing 
 peace by the compulsion of an appeal to reason and morals. What 
 is meant by the formula “no conquests?” It does not mean a 
 simple return to the frontiers that existed before the war, nor a 
 refusal to meet the case of wronged nationalities. It does mean, how- 
 ever, that the few changes of territory, which are really necessary, 
 must not be dependent on force. The consent of the people con- 
 cerned must be honestly obtained, and the alteration must be made 
 by mutual agreement and with mutual concessions. On all the 
 projects of colonial, capitalistic and strategical expansion in Africa 
 and Turkey, it opposes an absolute veto. For such aims the inter- 
 national proletariat must refuse to be driven to slaughter. Our part 
 is clear. It is to meet and overcome our own Imperialists as boldly 
 and completely as the Russians have overcome theirs. 
 
 23 
 
THE SECOND EDITION 
 
 PRINTED AT THE 
 PELICAN PRESS TWO 
 GOUGH SQUARE E.C 
 BY FRANCIS MEYNELL 
 IN THE III YEAR OF 
 THE WAR BUTTHE 
 MCMXVII OF OUR 
 SALVATION