ADIARYOFTHE RUSSIAN <^~> REVOLUTION •Y^LH-^MVIEISSinnf- - ILUBIKAIKy • Bought with the income of the Class of 1896 Fund A DIARY OF THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION "J.\ tut; Namk ok Lihkkty, Wah aiiainst (Jkumanism to Kilk Victory Revolutionary troops in t't'oi ¦ 1 of KnginecTs 1'aliu-e, April 1, 1917 A DIARY OF THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION BY JAMES L. HOUGHTELING, Jr. WITB ILLUSTRATIONS NEW YORK DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 1918 Copyright, 1918, Bt DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, lire. BW27.4-IO TO L. D. H. FOR WHOM THESE CHRONICLES WERE KEPT BUT WHO IS MENTIONED IN THEM ONLY ONCE PREFACE This story of the Russian Revolution of March 1917 is based partly on the actual experi ences of an eyewitness, partly on facts which stand of record or are common knowledge in Petrograd and Moscow, and partly on hearsay and rumour. I realise fully that information of the latter class, — as, for instance, the unsup ported testimony of persons whom I have only felt at liberty to designate by their initials, — is a weak foundation for a historical structure. But I beg leave to point out that such testimony is in no place used as foundation, but only as the ornamental scroll-work of the fagade. It is in teresting to know what clever and well-informed Russians were saying and thinking in the most crucial epoch of their country's history. The men of ability who so quickly adopted this al most accidental revolution and guided it, be lieved the situation to be approximately what these stories and rumours depict. I have included a few happenings which may appear to some to be too personal and there- viii Preface fore unnecessary, but their purpose is to show the conditions of life in a war-ridden country. To those Americans in Russia who may be surprised to have their names "called right out in meeting," without dashes or other subter fuge, I offer apologies, feeling sure that these friends will accept them. The experiences are theirs as much as mine and my highest hope is that they may think I have drawn the picture faithfully. I owe to the Hon. David E. Francis, Ameri can Ambassador to Russia, a debt of gratitude which I gladly acknowledge; also to the Hon. Maddin Summers, American Consul at Mos cow ; and to the embassy and consulate staffs. I wish to offer sincere thanks, in this place, to Professor Samuel N. Harper of the University of Chicago for the ground-outline he has given me of Russian institutions, politics and cus toms, which has enabled me in a greater meas ure to grasp the significance of what I saw and heard. James L. Houghtbltng, Jb. November 25, 1917. CONTENTS CHAPTEI I Petrograd in War Time . PAGE 1 II 18 III , 39 IV 62 V The News Bulletins of the Revolu- . 84 VI The New Order Replaces the Old . 107 VII . 142 VIII 162 IX The Turn Toward Order . 174 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "In the name of Liberty, War against German ism to full Victory." Revolutionary troops in front of Engineers Palace, April 1, 1917 Frontispiece FACING PAQE The Central District of Petrograd .... 8 The Liteiny Prospekt. Revolutionary troops with banner "Liberty, War and Victory" . 22 The District Court, a Petrograd Institution which the Revolutionists burned ... 44 The Liteiny District, the Scene of the First Revolt 64 The Barricade at the Corner of the Liteiny and the Sergievskaya. Built March 12, Removed March 17, 1917 70 "The Crosses." Political Prison after its Cap ture 92 Officers Registering in the Duma Hall and being addressed by the Deputy Skobeleff . . . 102 A Delegation of Sailors in the Catherine Hall, Duma Palace 124 Burning the Tsar's Coat-of-Arms in front of the Anitchkoff Palace 138 A Woman's Suffrage Demonstration on the Nevsky 166 Cavalry in the Petrograd Parade of April 1st . 176 "Without Victory There Is No Liberty" . . 188 INTRODUCTION A person who has spent even a few months in Russia cannot but be tremendously impressed by the ardent sentimental love which all classes of people show for their broad-stretching fatherland. Ties of family and of friendship do not seem to bind as fast as do the bonds of endless enthusiasm for "Holy Russia." There is an irresistible appeal in its undu lating flatness and fertility, in its dazzling win ter whiteness, in the sense that for thousands and thousands of versts there stretches always Russia, easy-going, kindly Russia, full of im practical, religious, likeable people. This enthusiastic love explains the great phe nomenon of the Russian Revolution of this year 1917 : the entire lack of selfish ambitions. Through good-nature and indifference, the Russians had let themselves be misgoverned for a hundred years after all other great peo ples had begun to reform their governments,.. A clique of grand-dukes, lordlings and politi cians, up to the minute in every refinement of xiv Introduction robbery, bribery and maladministration, had fastened itself upon the public treasury and the ministerial payrolls, taking cynical advantage of the confusing and obscuring bureaucratic system of "chins" or graduated civil ranks. These corrupt obstructionists had succeeded in dominating every Tsar and in nullifying every reform and concession which the crusading mi nority had been able to win, up to the very day of the Revolution. That there were reforms at all was due to certain chivalrous elements of the population who from altruistic motives carried on a stub born war against the old system. These groups were the "intelligentsia," the socialists and the terrorists, — subdivisions frequently overlap ping. They lived lives of devotion to Russia and to their own plans of reform. They knew no sordid impulses within themselves and were revolted by the crude selfishness of the bureau cracy. They won two great victories : first, in the re forms of Alexander II, the freeing of the serfs, the division of lands, and the establishment of the Zemstvos ; and second, in the institution of the Imperial Duma as a climax of the revolution of 1905-1906. During the rest of the last sixty years they watched reaction triumph and had Introduction xv not the organised backing to defeat it, nor the ability to marshal a successful revolution. The Great War awakened and organised the people. The corrupt autocratic system was swamped from the outset, and only the unselfish energies of the alert liberal minority saved Rus sia from a disgraceful collapse. The Zemstvos — representative assemblies of the landed gentry and richer peasants in each of the "gov ernments" into which Russia is divided — sud denly threw off the powerlessness which the bu reaucracy had imposed upon them and through their Union became the vitalising force of the war-ridden country. They cared for the wounded and fed and clothed all the armies in the field. * They directed and strengthened the peasant co-operative societies and thus reached out into almost every village of the fatherland. Capitalists and toilers joined hands a second time in the War Industry Committee, composed of public-spirited merchants, manufacturers and labor leaders from all parts of the empire. They took over bodily the production and pur chase of munitions and began putting Russia back on an efficient military footing after the ca lamitous retreat out of Poland. * See report of the Kussian Union of Zemstvos, published in January, 1916, by its London Committee, Bank Building, Kings- way, W. C, London. xvi Introduction These patriotic organisations were wrapped up in winning the war and tried to work with the bureaucracy. But their efficiency and popu larity were regarded by the latter with suspi cion and fear. The contrast was not to the ad vantage of the old system and the people were being educated to expect better things, which the bureaucracy had neither the inclination nor the ability to supply. Instead they did two things. They hampered patriotic endeavour in every way they could; and they tried to stop the war. The interference with the meetings of the Zemstvo Union and the arrest of the Labor Members of the War Industry Committee were stupid and brutal blows at the success of their own armies. The "separate-peace" mach inations of the Tsar, Stunner, Rasputin and Protopopoff were awkward attempts to save the old system from collapse by sacrificing the Rus sian people and their allies. The patriots sur vived all these attacks, and the reaction against the perpetrators had a tremendous momentum. It is hardly fair to have gone so far in re viewing the unselfish patriotic forces in the Russian state without mentioning the turbulent minority in the Duma, — hampered almost hope lessly by the ever-impending veto of the Council of Empire, by the overruling power of the Tsar Introduction xvii and by the crushingly limited electoral fran chise of its own body. Of the parties of Oppo sition, the most important were the Consti tutional Democrats, the Social Democrats and the Laborites or Social Revolutionaries. There was seldom peace or agreement among these parties, but their principal aim was held in com mon, — to free Russia from the curse of the selfish bureaucracy. Membership in any of them was an antidote to ambition, for all recog nised that their leaders stood much nearer to the famous casemates of the Peter-and-Paul Fortress than they did to real nation-wide power and influence. Men like Alexander Feo- dorovich Kerensky or Pavel Nikolaievich Miliu- koff spent their energies freely and risked life and liberty with no other motive than a true love of humanity and a burning passion of de votion for Russia. Suddenly the Revolution of March 12 came, and Russia found all her most devoted children on one side. Against the Imperial Family, the old guard of the bureaucracy, and the police, were lined up the Zemstvo nobility and gentry and their peasant collaborators, the business people, the bourgeoisie, the vast masses of the workingmen, the ablest generals in the field, and the entire army with many of its officers. Even xviii Introduction some members of the court and one or two of the Romanoffs believed a revolution unavoid able and favoured it. Selfishness, corruption and incompetence clashed for a moment against the awakened demand for freedom, justice and humanity and then were bowled over and swept away before the advance of the reborn nation. The methods of the old regime were accursed. The selfishness of the autocracy had its reflex in the same sort of exalted patriotism that in spired the fathers of the American nation in our Revolution. By common consent the best men in Russia were thrust into office, regard less of political differences, to form the great First Ministry. Not until the return of the Siberians and the exiles, who were untouched by the exaltation of the Revolution, did false ambition, class hatred, treason to Russia and greed for the gold of the enemy become promi nent factors of the situation. The BolsheviM and extremist agitators are not blood-children of the Russian Revolution. The century-long work of liberation was con summated in five days. The century-long work of building up the structure of a modern sys tem of liberty, restrained and accommodated to the welfare of an ever-increasing majority and to the rights of all, cannot be accomplished Introduction xix so quickly. But no one who has caught the spirit of the Revolution can doubt that the up building of such a system will be duly finished, — despite intervening disturbances, — generous ly, wisely and patriotically. A DIARY OF THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION A DIARY OF THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION CHAPTER I petrograd in war time January 18, 1917. En route from Stockholm to Petrograd. At noon we reached Haparanda and the Swedish frontier. Just before, we were treated to a most beautiful "sun-rise" effect. The sun had been up for two hours but hung low in the south, about twenty degrees above the horizon. Long low snow-islands of clouds lined the southern heavens ; the sun, instead of rising across these cloud-bars as a normal ris ing sun would, slid sideward between them. The colors were magnificent, the whole effect very thrilling. We were within fifteen miles of the Arctic Circle and it was moderately cold, about twenty below zero, Fahrenheit. At Haparanda we passed laboriously through the Swedish customs. The laws about taking 1 2 A Diary of the Russian Revolution food, shoes, etc., out of the country are as stren uous as those governing imports. After a frigid drive across the river to an island, we were admitted by a sort of toll-gate to the Russian Empire. Beyond the gate were a few rough wooden houses, including custom house, warehouses, and barracks ; also an enclo sure with a high paling that might have been a place of detention. The Swedish sleigh-driver left us and our hand-luggage on the hard-packed snow of the little square and a Russian soldier with a bashlik tied tightly around his head mo tioned us into the custom-house. Here we were treated with great courtesy by an officer who spoke English. The examination was far from rigorous but every one was obliged to answer an elaborate questionnaire. Then we were kept shut up for an hour or more in a packed wait ing-room ; we talked with a Roumanian dressed in the uniform of a captain of the French army, who was hastening home to help stop the Rou manian retreat, and with one or two Russian officers. Most of the travellers crowded into a dirty little restaurant and drank tea out of glasses. It was in this custom-house a short time ago that a courier, having a perfectly correct pass port and laissez passer from the Russian lega- Petrograd in War Time 3 tion in Stockholm, was detained. Everything seemed normal but the commandant, who has been here a long time and has developed a great nose fer spies, was suspicious. Despite threats from the courier that it meant ruin to the com mandant's military career, the latter ordered the pouches opened, and found therein several thousand pasteboard matchboxes, each contain ing a couple of layers of matches and under. them, tightly-folded pamphlets of a revolution ary pro-German nature addressed to the peas ants of Russia. The courier was, naturally, taken out and shot. What a futile errand to pay for with a man's life! Another cold drive across the river toward the hilly Finland shore. The crispness of the air and the slanting sunlight on the snow were most exhilarating. The wooded hills, the gilded bulb-domes of the Russian church in the village of Torneo and the long caravans of freight sledges tugging across snow-covered ice made an unforgettable picture. At the Torneo sta tion we went through the usual confused check ing of baggage and just as darkness fell Bailey and I found ourselves ensconced in a cramped compartment on the train of the Finnish Na tional R. R. We started south only two hours late. 4 A Diary of the Russian Revolution Friday, January 19. We travelled all day through Finland. In neatness, whiteness and woodiness it is much like Sweden but less rugged. We have not seen any really good stands of timber, but I suppose this is natural along the right-of-way of a trunk-line railway. We passed the Finnish-Russian Customs with the usual formalities at Bieloostroff, and reached Petrograd at midnight. Armour, John son and a courier met us at the Finland Station. Outside, we found that the automobile they had hired had, in characteristic Russian fashion, gotten tired and gone home ; so we had the long cold drive to the hotel in a sleigh. I drew two small rooms, a tiny bedroom and a fair-sized sitting-room. Dark walls, torn paper, drab fur niture ! The halls of this hotel smell like a third- class boarding house in Chicago. Saturday, January 20. I went at 11 :30 to call at our Embassy. The drive by the Winter Pal ace, the Hermitage, the Quays, the Marsovo Pole, the Summer Garden and the Liteiny made a great impression. But what an untidy town ! The buildings are of such a discouraged color ; perhaps in the sunlight they will look better but to-day is overcast. The unattractive war-loan posters are stuck about badly over everything, be it government office building or palace ; and Petrograd in War Time 5 firewood is piled in full view all over town. The Marsovo Pole (Field of Mars) looks like a wood-yard. Soldiers are drilling everywhere, on the Pal ace Square, on the Quays, in the side-streets. In the middle of the Marsovo Pole, surrounded by marching infantry, skirmishing machine-gun squads, and overshadowing fire-woods, two sec tions of field artillery are doing mounted drill, — a welcome sight to an expatriated artillery man. I was tempted to abandon my ivoshchik and spend my morning "reviewing" them. The Embassy stands on a fine broad street, the Fourstadskaya, but is a disappointing two- story affair without dignity of facade, squeezed into the middle of a block with a big apartment building on one side and another modest resi dence on the other. Above its low roof an American flag hung at half-mast (for Admiral Dewey). The Embassy staff were most cordial. I had a session, including luncheon, with the Ambas sador and told him the reasons of my coming. He was very definite in his suggestions, and greatly impressed me by his grasp of the Rus sian situation and by the largeness of his views. In the evening I dined at the hotel and was joined by . I went afterwards to his pala- 6 A Diary of the Russian Revolution tial suite for a wee drappie; we foreigners aren't as dry as the rest of Russia. told me that an official in the Foreign Office had in formed him that Russia was not worrying about the Roumanian situation; she has been warned by her allies that they intend to make a big push in the spring and end the war next fall, so she is bending every effort to get her house in or der preparatory to doing her share. I don't know what he means by "getting her house in order." Sunday, January 21. Went to 34 Fourstad- skaya at 11 with Bailey; there we picked up Rumchevich the door-man to act as interpreter and started out to look for apartments. A handy interpreter! He speaks only Russian and German, and in this town one dare not speak the latter above a whisper. The Kaiser once said that German is a tongue which must be spoken loud from the chest, and I believe him; at least my attempts to whisper it were not very successful. We saw only one apart ment and that was impossible. The bedroom and study were nice, but they were separated by a salon crammed full of heavy, inartistic Russian furniture, and the man who owned the apartment would only rent the three rooms to gether for 400 roubles a month. Petrograd in War Time 7 I thought Graham Taylor might arrive to day, so after leaving Bailey at the hotel I walked the length of the Nevsky to the Nikolaieff sta tion. What a conglomeration of a street the Nevsky is ! The curved colonnades of the Ka zan Cathedral are stunning but in the next block one comes face to face with the atrocious city- hall. The open square at the Anitchkoff and that palace itself are worthy of Paris, but across the street is a hodge-podge of straggly forlorn business buildings, much disfigured by ugly signs. It is not a creditable main street for the capital of 180,000,000 souls. And why doesn't any one speak anything be side Russian? At the Nikolaieff there was no one to be found to tell me about trains from Moscow and I wandered about mournfully like a lost soul. Luckily Graham didn't come, for if he had, I should probably have missed him. Monday, January 22. To the office about ten. It's hard to get started in the morning when one has to labor with the hotel servants to make them understand one's simplest wants and then to wait interminably for service. The ho tels are awfully short of even moujik "help," and if I get an answer to my bell in less than a half -hour, I'm proud of myself all day. At noon Norman Armour of our Embassy 8 A Diary of the Russian Revolution took some of us newly-arrived Americans over to look at the Demidoff house on the Sergiev- skaya. The United States has an option on it, furnished, for an Embassy. It has seventy rooms including state reception-rooms, banquet- rooms, a ballroom, a stunning conservatory where the Demidoff s are said to have gypsy dan cers perform when they give a ball, two beau tiful suites of apartments for the ambassador and the counsellor, a lot of smaller suites which could be used for secretaries, and all sorts of rooms for a chancery. We lunched with Armour at his apartment on the Liteiny, Sands and Miles being the other guests. The difficulties of living comfortably were discussed at length ; all present except Ar mour are huntmg better quarters and are hav ing no luck at all. Tuesday, January 23. At four this afternoon I went exploring. I had heard of an apart ment over on the Bolshoy Prospekt belonging to an erstwhile secretary of the erstwhile Ger man Embassy ; but there are two Bolshoy Pros- pekts, widely separated on different islands, one on the Kammeny Ostroff and the other on the Vassili Ostroff, and my informant failed to tell me on which one to look for this apartment building. I started along the Quays and across The Central District op Petrograd Petrograd in War Time 9 the Troitsky Bridge, pausing a few moments to study the old Fortress of Peter and Paul (the needle-pointed spire of its church is the fairest thing in Petrograd) ; then around by the Peo ple's House of Nikolas II, a big recreation building, and into a labyrinth of back streets. Soon I reached the Bolshoy Prospekt and its shoddiness convinced me that the other one must be that for which I was looking, for not even a German secretary would live on this Second-Avenue-like thoroughfare. I felt too weak on Russian for either sleigh or street-cars, so I trudged on and presently came out of the congested district and crossed the Little Neva + x the scholastic shores of the Vassili Ostroff. 1 had been two hours on foot and decided it was too late for any more flat-hunting. Therefore I skirted the Bourse and the Museums to the 'ourse Bridge, thence to the Admiralty Quay, and across the Palace Square to the Morskaya and home. It was my first tour of the city, which after all has many points of interest and beauty. Bailey and I dined together and went to a movie. I can already read a few words of the legends between the pictures. Wednesday, January 24. I lunched with the Wrights. told me that a revolution is 10 A Diary of the Russian Revolution much talked about in private and that some peo ple here think it may come soon. In the evening I went to the Imperial Ballet at the Marinsky Theatre. The ballet was ' ' Pax- ita," a Spanish affair, not one of the best, but very well done, of course. Between the acts we admired the sentinels at the door of the Impe rial Box. They faced each other and stood like statues, a most blase smirk on their nubbly Rus sian countenances. At fixed intervals the flicker of an eyelid of the senior would set them off on a stiff marionettish manual-of-arms drill lasting about three minutes. Heads were snapped to right and left, rifles ported, pre sented, shouldered, all in staccato time but with an air of utmost boredom. The Imperial Box was occupied by officers of the suite of the Crown-Prince of Roumania ; who rumor says is up here courting, trying to get Tatiana, — but Olga must go first. Thursday, January 25. I have found a solu tion for the perplexing problem of talking to the servants in this hotel. The chambermaid is an amusing old dame from the Baltic Prov inces, as quick as a steel trap, and talks Ger man fluently. By much gesticulation and point ing I can make her understand me in that tongue and she tells me the Russian words which Petrograd in War Time 11 I immediately hunt up in my dictionary, to make sure of their spelling. Unfortunately there lives next to me, separated only by a thin door, a French officer, and he has taken to bat ting on the door every time he hears us ' ' straf ing" the hated language. If he realised how I was murdering the Kaiser's German, he'd rec ommend me for a St. Vladimir Cross at the very least. After dinner to-night, old Mr. P of Bos ton dropped in to borrow some books. We chatted and our talk soon turned to Rasputin, a never-failing topic these days. He remarked with true New England disgust that Rasputin was the most immoral man in Russia; and a man of tremendous magnetic and physical pow ers. He has heard that the reason for the mur der was not politics but involved an intimacy between the self-styled monk and the wife of one of the high persons implicated. At any rate, Rasputin was invited to 94 Moika, Prince Yussupoff 's house, was met there by his host, with the Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, Purish kevich, and others, and after some preliminaries was ordered to commit suicide. When he re fused, one of them, reputedly Purishkevich, took the pistol and shot him. His body was taken across the Islands and dropped off one of the 12 A Diary of the Russian Revolution far bridges through a hole in the ice. The rope and weight slipped off, so that the corpse floated and was found. Armour tells me that a few days afterwards he drove across the same bridge and that his driver pointed out the hole, crossed himself and said, "It has not frozen; he was a saint!" Friday, January 26. A quiet day until 11 p. m. At that hour I went to Capt. M 's where I found a gay supper party in progress. The guests included the American Ambassador and two of his staff, a Russian general and his wife, an American banker, his wife and daugh ter, a cavalry captain stunning in a deep-red Caucasian uniform, an American special corre spondent and her husband, and a British tor pedo expert. After supper we danced until 3 :00 A. M. Saturday, January 27. On my way to work this morning I passed the church of St. Pante- leimon the Martyr just as they began to ring its chimes. I never heard better rag-time. The big bells boomed, while the little ones tinkled a syncopated anthem which showed a truly ' ' Rag time Temple Bells" spirit in the heart of the bell-ringer. After work, I walked along the Moika Canal almost to the Marinsky Theatre to see the house Petrograd in War Time 13 where Rasputin was killed. It is new, square and ugly. I dined with our Embassy's Commercial Attache. After dinner he and I went out to a reception at the apartment of Harold Williams, author of "Russia of the Russians." • Mrs. Wil liams is a very clever Russian woman and their apartment is a great rendezvous for liberals of all sorts. Mr. Williams has lived in this coun try for a dozen years and represents the Lon don Chronicle. There was a great crowd there, mostly speak ing Russian. I talked with Mr. Williams, with Ransom of the London Daily News, and with Capt. Grenfell, the British Naval Attache. I met Mr. Guchkoff, Mr. Shidlovsky, and several other Duma Members. At supper I was placed between Mr. Williams and a Mme. Protopopoff, who assured me hastily that she was no relation to the Home Minister. She spoke French and we talked about Tolstoi and things Russian, with the constant feeling on my part that she would prefer to listen to the animated Russian conversation going on around us. Huntington had a headache and left early ; I departed about midmght, although the party was still in full swing. I understand that shortly afterwards 14 A Diary of the Russian Revolution Prof. Miliukoff arrived and the conversation be came distinctly political. Sunday, January 28. Graham Taylor dropped in from Moscow this morning. He could not get a room at any hotel, so I am having an ex tra bed wedged into my palatial suite. There are said to be a million strangers, mostly refugees from Poland and Lithuania, in Petrograd at present. Every hotel is jammed and no house or apartment for rent stays on the market for twenty-four hours. Guests sleep in the private dining-rooms and the corridors of the hotels, and one can never get a bath be fore nine a. m. or after nine p. m. because some unfortunate is bedded down in every bath-room. I verified this yesterday, for when at eight in the morning I sceptically entered the near-by bath-room, clad in bathrobe, shippers and towel, I tripped over a poor wretch sleeping on a mat tress on the floor. This morning we went with one of the Amer ican secretaries to inspect the German Embassy. I have noticed the building before and consider it an insult to St. Isaac's Cathedral opposite. It is the worst type of new German taste, built of iron-grey stone with frowning square pillars from sidewalk to cornice. The interior must have been dreadful in its first glory, — gilt and Petrograd in War Time 15 black and "kaiserliche und konigliche" aggres sive. Now it is all most picturesquely wrecked, a complete wholehearted Russian job. Furni ture and fixtures are torn to pieces, wall paper scarred, door-handles and panels broken, ink spattered everywhere. Portraits, tapestries and carpets are ripped and torn. As art critics the Russians are soul-satisfying. The great en trance-hall and the corridors are piled high with broken furniture and statuary. Even the bath tubs, — of which we could find only three in that great building, — are broken or bent. The mas sive iron equestrian figures on the roof were torn down and thrown into the Moika Canal, where they floated, as they were only tin. Their salvaged remains still lie in the courtyard. All this took place a few weeks after war was de clared. It is said that police agents directed the mob. We supped at Eugene Prince's on the Peters burg side. His sister, who is a Red Cross nurse and was recently married to Capt. Afanasieff of the Russian Army, entertained us with stories of the front and showed us her war photo graphs, many of which were extraordinary. Some of the best were of the Russian priests conducting services on the battle line. Mme. Afanasieff 's stories and pictures showed people 16 A Diary of the Russian Revolution living a happy normal outdoor life in spite of trenches, aeroplane shelters and heavy ord nance. Only a picture or two of dead soldiers torn by shrapnel reminded us of the ghastly business in which these smiling cheery officers and nurses were engaged. Tuesday, January 30. There are still plenty of Russian soldiers, judging from what one sees here. They are a husky, healthy lot, and from my views of the recruits I do not think the qual ity of the material is deteriorating. At drill they are like children. H a recruit is abnor mally awkward, the rest of his squad will stop work entirely and roar with laughter at his ef forts. A friend tells me that he saw a recruit squad with one particularly clumsy member; the officer, when he had corrected him a dozen times, lost patience and stepping silently leapt upon him, striking with both feet in the small of his back and knocking him onto his face. The recruit rose sheepishly and immediately began getting the idea better. There are innumerable men of military age driving truck-sledges, cleaning the streets and doing all sorts of other work. It will take many years to exhaust Russia's man-power. I don't gather that the armies lost many men in Roumania. The Russians have fought one Petrograd in War Time 17 of those punishing man-saving rear-guard cam paigns at which they are so superior. They seem to loathe the Roumanians and tell all sorts of slurring stories about them. It is said that the complete wrecking of the Roumanian oil fields, done so well that Germany will not get a cupful of oil for several years, was borne with great stoicism in this country. CHAPTER IT BTJMBLINGS ( Wednesday, January 31. There is no doubt that a revolution is coming. G- says that in the provinces it is regarded as certain, and that people think it will be very bloody. The Tsar's actions alone are enough to pro voke a revolt. Last fall he put into office the pro-German Stiirmer. The latter immediately attacked the Zemstvo Union as a detriment to the war, but his own Ministers of War and Ma rine, acting upon representations from Generals Alexeieff, Ruzsky, and Brusiloff, reported that they could not get along without the Union. This fiasco and Miliukoff's denunciation of Stiirmer in the Duma, drove him from office, the first time popular opinion has been able to exert such strength. The Tsar is said to have asked the recall of Sir George Buchanan, the British Ambassador, as an accomplice of Miliu- koff, but to have met with a prompt refusal from Great Britain. Then Trepoff went in as a lib eral, but the Tsar saddled him with Protopo- 18 Rumblings 19 poff, the worst reactionary of all, as Home Min ister controlling the police and the press. While the Premier was expostulating and Niko las vacillating, Rasputin was killed and the Tsar immediately grew stubborn, confirmed Proto- popoff and forced Trepoff out. Now we have a nice old reactionary philanthropist as nominal head of the ministry, with Protopopoff as the real government. The Duma has been ad journed and while it is scheduled to assemble on February 27th, the wise ones say it will never meet. Meanwhile the throne has fewer adherents every day. Thursday, February 1. We have just heard the unbelievable news of Germany's submarine- zone proclamation. If the report is true, it shows that Germany is on her last legs. It surely means that we enter the war. Friday, February 2. No official news. The papers give the boundaries of the submarine zone. Will the Scandinavian steamers sail with our precious mail? Graham and I went after lunch to the Alex ander III Museum to see the pictures by Rus sian artists. It is a fine collection, but I found the much-talked-of Vereshchagins rather a dis appointment. The landscapes and a few of the Cossack pictures pleased me most. It is inter- 20 A Diary of the Russian Revolution esting to contrast these superb landscapes with the totally unreal paintings of the sea ; the Rus sians don't seem to understand the latter ele ment. We dined at Donan's, and I went home to work. Saturday, February 3. When I came from work this afternoon and entered the Palace Square from the Millionaya, I saw a picture only equalled by the Champs-filysees and the Arc de Triomphe on a May afternoon. The sun was setting behind the Admiralty Gardens, and the golden needle of the Admiralty Spire and the faultless dome of St. Isaac's stood out against a sky supremely rosy and beautiful. The square was darkening fast, and the Alexander Column, the grim old Winter Palace, and the crescent of stately government buildings with the chariot-topped Morskaya Arch to break their mass, were all toned down to a shadowy softness. I stood and stood, wishing I were Joshua to stop the sun and prolong the delight. Sunday, February 4. Graham Taylor left this noon. His visit has been a great treat. I went to the Embassy after lunch and found many people there making inquiries. Most of the newspaper men in town were on hand. I had some talk with the Belgian minister; also Rumblings 21 a long session with Shershevsky, a political ed itor of the Novoye Vremya, a nice little chap with a military uniform and a bad limp. Every one is greatly excited, and all beheve a break with Germany is inevitable, — with war to fol low. I spent an hour telling the Russian jour nalists what immense industrial resources and man power the United States could put into a war if she were roused. One of them asked if the Ford factory could make submarines and aeroplanes, and A who had joined us, of fered the whole establishment as if it were his own. Monday, February 5. Still no definite news. The papers think we have broken relations with Germany. Tuesday, February 6. I dined with H whom I like very much. He tells me that in his opinion the great bulk of Russian trade in re tail merchants' supplies will be captured by Germany again after the war. Neither the United States nor England can compete with her in prompt deliveries, long credits, nor the exact meeting of the buyers' needs. In ma chinery, steel and iron products, railroad and electrical supplies and in financing Russian manufacturers, we can lead the world if we will put aside provincialism and 22 A Diary of the Russian Revolution go at it in a big way. I pointed out that in financing one has to look to the law for pro tection and that the Russian administration of the law is so lax and so corrupt that it fright ens away capital. He thought this a very good point, and said that the business people were beginning to realise it and to turn against the present bureaucratic government which they, as conservatives, had tried to support before. Every one is gradually coming to see that this unfair, inefficient government must go. Wednesday, February 7. They clean the streets of this city well. It has been cold stead ily since I arrived, usually well below zero Fah renheit, and it snows often. If they did not clear the streets frequently, the spring thaw would be a disaster. There seem to be plenty of husky men to chop and cart snow. Thursday, February 8. Petrograd is more uneven in appearance than any other city I have seen. The guide books call the Mokho- vaya, the Sergievskaya and the Fourshtadskaya fashionable streets, but we have nothing in American cities that combines handsome resi dence buildings and cheap tawdry shops as do these streets. The Mokhovaya, in particular, is spotted with middle-class stores throughout its entire length. The Fourshtadskaya has a cou- The Liteiny Prospekt Revolutionary troops with banner "Liberty, War and Victory" Rumblings 23 pie of barracks, several cheap "traktirs" (tea-house saloons) and a coal yard. The pictured shop-signs, portraying with a fine dis regard for proportions the various wares of fered, be they beeves, boots, thimbles or aspar agus, may assist the illiterate peasant to shop, but they do not help the artistic eye to enjoy the architectural effects of these so-called resi dence streets. As I walked home along the quays to-night, the sun was setting right behind the Petropav- lovsk Fortress, and the gold spire of the Peter and Paul Cathedral, outlined against it, was marvellously beautiful. The haze of the Pet rograd marshes, which we dread twenty-three hours a day, redeems itself gloriously at sun set time. Friday, February 9. We seem to have broken with Germany. We hear all sorts of stories about Ambassador Gerard, that he has gone to Copenhagen, that he is detained in Berlin till Bernstorff 's safety is assured, that he has gone to Switzerland. I dined at Donan's Restaurant with White- house and two other diplomats. Most of the talk was of war and America's part in it. I heard some interesting things about the frustrations met in trying to do business with / 24 A Diary of the Russian Revolution the Russian bureaucracy. Nowadays the stand patters of the General Staff are paramount and anything that they do not understand, which in cludes almost everything in God's world, they veto. Repatriation of certain types of prison ers, women, old men, etc., has been solemnly agreed to for over a year, and the Palmyra hotel here is full of Germans for whom the pre liminary repatriation-order has been given. Mc Clelland of our Petrograd consulate is the tem porary bonifaceXYet for months not one soul has been allowed to depart from Petrograd for Germany. Recently an important German lady died in the hotel, and our Embassy told the Foreign Office that the latter was responsible for her death. The Foreign Office was discon solate, as it had arranged to exchange this woman for an important Russian lady whom it wanted very much. It blamed the delay on an old brigadier of the General Staff who does not believe in repatriation. Saturday, February 10. I am entertaining at dinner and the French Theatre next Tuesday. I went around this morning to get tickets, and when I passed the Resurrection Church, I dropped in for a minute or two. A gold-robed priest was celebrating morning prayer before a many-pictured altar, a sonorous male choir was Rumblings 25 chanting within, and in the nave a group of soldiers and common people were crossing themselves. The interior of the church is very gorgeous, lofty and picturesque, much more pleasing and uplifting than its bulbous exterior. I went specially to the spot where, under a mar ble canopy, one can still see the bloodstained street-paving on which Alexander II fell, mor tally wounded. Poor vacillating Tsar, who went further toward reform than any of his ancestors had dared, but not far enough! Afternoon — Bad news for my dinner-party! as it has just been decided that I go to Moscow to-morrow. Sunday, February 11. I started at 10:30 p.m. with Philip Piatt for a five-day trip to Moscow. Monday, February 12. This Nikolai Railroad is a traveller's joy; it has practically no curve nor grade from Petrograd to Moscow and is the easiest railroad in the world on which to sleep comfortably. And fares are ridiculously low. It costs R 21.75 (about $6.50 at present ex change) for first-class ticket and berth for the 400 mile trip and R 12.50, or $3.75, for a second- class ticket and berth. We reached Moscow at one this afternoon. On our way from the station to the office the 26 A Diary of the Russian Revolution isvoshchik lost himself completely and took us far around the inner boulevards. At the crest of the hill above the Hermitage Restaurant, we looked down on the river valley and half of the city, and marvelled at the innumerable gilded church-domes. On our way from the office to the National Hotel we passed the walls and quaint old Vlad imir Gate of the Chinese Town with its two churches, quite a fascinating picture in the win ter twilight. At the hotel I stowed myself in Graham's room while Piatt was assigned to a private dining-room (for which they are charg ing him a, la carte prices). Mr. Varkala of the International Harvester Company, erstwhile of the University Settle ment, Chicago, came to dinner and brought with him Mr. Narushevich, another Lithuanian, who is chief engineer of the Moscow City Railway. The latter talked little English, but we strug gled along and finally got onto Lithuanian his tory, a subject I had just been plodding through in "The Mongols in Russia." I talked of Ge- dimin and Olgerd and Vitold and Yagello as if they were members of my family and Mr. Naru shevich was much excited and pleased. Finally after dilating on the greatness of his race, he asked, "How do people at large in America feel Rumblings 27 about the independence of Lithuania?" I hadn't the heart to tell him that most Ameri cans thought Lithuania was a mineral water, so I "passed the buck" to Graham, who paused for a long breath and answered most diplomat ically. Mr. N. says there are only 3,000 tram cars in all Russia and that one-half of that number is in this city. There isn't an adequate street-car service in the entire empire. The municipality of Moscow is working on a plan for a cross- shaped subway, an improvement tremendously needed. After dinner G. and I went to a vaudeville show at the "Letuchny Muish," a famous and characteristic Russian music hall. It was in a cellar, and the pit and the gallery were fur nished with long tables. The performance was very amateurish but uproariously amusing, — a series of one act plays, tableaux, songs or stunts, all done well and with careless buoyancy. Between the numbers, an announcer kept up a running fire of comments, being often answered by the audience and getting into arguments which caused great laughter. Tuesday, February 13. At about three, Gra ham, Piatt and I quit work to go sight-seeing. We started for the Kremlin but stopped at the 28 A Diary of the Russian Revolution Iberian Gate of the old city to see the holy shrine of the Virgin. The unobtrusive little building (not more than fifteen feet square) was crowded with worshippers, all busy buying and lighting candles, praying and crossmg themselves, kissing the glass over the ikons with which every inch of wall is covered. Before the shrine, men and women knelt on the snow of the open square and prayed, the men uncovered in that icy weather. It was a wonderful and in spiring display of religious fervour, sincere and trustful and lacking any note of superstitious fear. We passed through the Red Square into the Kremlin, and inspected the long rows of can nons captured from Napoleon's army and the two curiosities called "Tsar," the cannon that will not fire and the bell that will not ring. We tried to get into the churches but found that they had all closed at four o'clock. So we con soled ourselves with a general survey and de parted through the Holy Gate. Then we ex plored that bulbous atrocity, the Church of Vas- sili Blajenni. Each of the eleven turrets covers a chapel, four in the basement and seven up stairs. Each is tiny, cramped and unimpres sive. From the dome above each chapel there looks down the likeness of the person to whom Rumblings 29 it is dedicated, Father, Son, Holy Ghost, Vir gin, or Saint, — a most surprising effect for the visitor, to look up and find great eyes staring down upon him. G. and I dined at the Praga Restaurant, where we ran into our intelligent Russian friend — -?