VIEXAMINATION OF PAVEL MEDVEDEFF

On one of the following days, either Medvedeffor somebody who heard him, told me that Luhanoff took the bodies to the Verkh-Issetsk Works. The truck went through a wooded country. The ground began to get soft and swampy. The car was proceeding with difficulty, as its wheels sank into the mud. With many difficulties the automobile arrived at its destination, where a hole was already dug. All the bodies were laid in the hole and covered.

All that I am telling is the exact truth. Neither myself nor any other of our Zlokasoff workmen knew anything in the evening about the intended murder. After that evening Medvedeff did not come to our quarters and did not explain anything to us. I admit that some of the Sissert workmen may have known about it through Medvedeff, but the Sissert workmen were holding themselves aloof from us, and we from them. Among the Sissert workmen there was a greater number of Bolsheviki than among us.

Regarding the weapons, I can say the following: Iourovsky had two revolvers; one of them was a big Mauser and the other a Nagan. Besides that I have seen a big revolver in the commandant’s room and it is possible that it was a Colt. All the Letts had revolvers and judging by the holsters they had Nagans. Besides that a few more revolvers were brought from some place at the time Iourovsky was commandant.

The description of the murder of the czar and his family impressed me very much. I was sitting trembling. I did not go to bed, and at eight o’clock in the morning I went to see my sister, Kapitolina, with whom I was on very good terms. So I went to her to share my feelings with her. I was deeply pained in my soul. I found my sister alone; her husband was working in the commissariat of justice. When my sister saw my distressed expression she asked me: “What is the matter?” I answered her: “The czar is shot.” My sister asked me: “Is it possible that you were there?” I told her the same thing I am telling you, but not in such detail. I told her the imperial family were shot by decision and order of the “district soviet of workmen deputies.” I have the same opinion at present; it could not be possible that Iourovsky did it on his own decision. As at that time all the power was in the hands of the district soviet, I believe that the murder was done by the order of the soviet.

Previously among the Red Guards there was the following conversation: “What will happen if the Czechs enter the town? What will they do with the imperial family?” Some suggested that they would execute the family.

I remember that Deriabin said that Demidova had about thirty bayonet wounds. I told that to my sister.

At about ten o’clock in the morning I returned from my sister’s to the Popoff house. I do not remember what I did until two p. m., when my duty commenced. I placed the guards on all the postsand entered the commandant’s room. There I met Nikoulin, two Letts and Medvedeff. They were not gay, any of them; they looked preoccupied and depressed. None of them was speaking. A large number of precious things were placed on the table. They were pins, stones, ear-rings, beads and all sorts of jewels. A part of them lay in boxes, which were all open. The door from the lobby leading to the rooms where the imperial family used to live was closed as before, but there was nobody in the rooms; not a single sound was heard. Before, when the imperial family used to live there, sounds of life were always heard in those rooms. There was not any life there at present. Only their little dog was standing near the door in the lobby, waiting to be let into those rooms. I remember very well that I thought at the time: “You are waiting in vain.” Before the murder there was a bed and a couch in the commandant’s room. On this day at two o’clock of July 17th, when I came to the commandant’s room, I noticed there two more beds, on one of which a Lett was lying. Later Medvedeff told us that the Letts did not want to live any longer in the room where the murder took place (they had lived before in this room). Obviously this was the reason why the two beds were transferred to the commandant’s room.

From two o’clock p. m. up till ten o’clock p. m. on July 17th I performed duty. On this day I did not see Iourovsky in the house.

The same day Medvedeff told us that all of us guards would be sent to the front. So, on July 18th, I went in the morning to the Zlokasoff factory for the purpose of drawing the money that was due me. At two o’clock of the same day I again went on duty. On this day the czar’s belongings were being taken from the Ipatieff house and loaded on an automobile. Beloborodoff was sitting in the automobile. A number of things were also taken away on carriages.

On July 18th I saw Iourovsky in the house about six o’clock in the evening; he was constantly coming and going. At about eight o’clock in the evening he called up Medvedeff and gave him the money for our wages. On July 18th all the things had been taken out of the house.

On July 20th, during the night, together with the other guards, I was sent to the station Yekaterinburg First. A part of the guard remained in the Ipatieff house.

At the end of July we arrived at Perm and about a week after our arrival we were joined by the remainder of the guards from the Ipatieff house. All were assigned to the command of the commissar of supplies of the third army, by the name of Gorbounoff, and taken on a steamer to Levshino. Klesscheeff alone did not go with them to Levshino as he had to stay in Perm owing to illness from venereal disease.

For about a month I was guarding the steamer and railroad cars of the commissar Gorbounoff. On

EMPRESS ALEXANDRA FEODOROVNA IN TOBOLSK

XTHE IPATIEV HOUSE IN EKATERINBURG (GENERAL VIEW)(X) The Basement room in which the murders took place.

THE IPATIEV HOUSE IN EKATERINBURG (GENERAL VIEW)

(X) The Basement room in which the murders took place.

YANKEL YUROVSKY, THE MURDERERHe shot the Tsar and the Tsarevich with his own hand.

YANKEL YUROVSKY, THE MURDERER

He shot the Tsar and the Tsarevich with his own hand.

THE IPATIEV HOUSE: SHOWING THE STOCKADE AROUND THE HOUSEThe above photograph was taken in May, 1918, directly after the arrival of Nicholas, Alexandra and Maria. Their jailers had had time to put up only the inner fence. The outer stockade, erected later, inclosed the gateway and approaches to the house. Machine-guns were mounted at different points within the inclosure and in the garret. Note the shrine on the left.

THE IPATIEV HOUSE: SHOWING THE STOCKADE AROUND THE HOUSE

The above photograph was taken in May, 1918, directly after the arrival of Nicholas, Alexandra and Maria. Their jailers had had time to put up only the inner fence. The outer stockade, erected later, inclosed the gateway and approaches to the house. Machine-guns were mounted at different points within the inclosure and in the garret. Note the shrine on the left.

THE TSAR SAWING WOOD IN THE COURTYARD OF THE governor’s PALACE, TOBOLSKIt is winter. He wears the papaha (military fur hat) and felt boots.

THE TSAR SAWING WOOD IN THE COURTYARD OF THE governor’s PALACE, TOBOLSK

It is winter. He wears the papaha (military fur hat) and felt boots.

BED-ROOM OF THE EMPEROR AND THE EMPRESS IN THE IPATIEV HOUSE

November 1st, of my own will, I went to Motoviliha and remained there. After the place came under the rule of the supreme ruler I was mobilised, participated in battles with the Reds and finally was arrested.

I remember another fact in the life of the emperor. On one occasion I entered the commandant’s room and met there Nikoulin and Kabanoff. I heard Nikoulin asking Kabanoff what he spoke about with the czar during the time of his walk. Kabanoff replied that the emperor asked him if he had not been previously in a certain cuirassier regiment. Kabanoff answered that he had been and added also that once, during the time he was in the regiment, the regiment was reviewed by the czar. We were all surprised at the czar’s memory.

I can not say what became of the boy who stayed with the imperial family. On one of the days immediately following the murder I saw the boy from a distance; he was sitting in the room where the Sissert workmen were dining and was weeping bitterly so that his sobs were heard by me. I did not go towards him, nor did I ask him any questions. I was told that the boy learned about the murder of the imperial family and began to cry.

On July the 17th, after I became calmer, I went to Medvedeff’s room. In this room I met another man who had previously obtained the supplies for the imperial family and the guardsmen. I began to question Medvedeff about the murder. Medvedefftold me that shortly after twelve in the night, Iourovsky woke up the imperial family and said to the czar: “An attack is being prepared on the house, I must transfer you all to the lower room.” They all came down. In reply to my question who did the shooting, Medvedeff answered that it was the Letts. When I asked where the bodies were taken, he told me that the bodies were taken by Iourovsky and the Letts on an automobile to the Verkh-Issetsk Works and there in a wooded place by the swamp all the bodies were put in one hole that was previously prepared and covered with earth. I remember he said that the automobile sank and only with great difficulty arrived at the grave.

I know that Avdeieff, before being appointed commandant of the Ipatieff house, went to Tobolsk to get the czar and his family. He was accompanied by Hohriakoff, who was afterwards killed at the front and buried with great ceremony in Perm by the Bolsheviki.

I also remember that when I went to Yekaterinburg I heard in the car two workmen saying that the czar had left Yekaterinburg. All of us who were of the guards began to tell them that the czar had been shot.

I can’t explain anything else. My testimony has been read to me, and is correct.

(Signed)Anatolie Alexandrovitch Iakimoff.N. Sokoloff.

[The deposition of Pavel Medvedeff, the former workman at the Sissert Factory, reveals a more hardened character than that of Yakimoff. He regards events in the cold light of reason, and offers no comment either of pity or of dislike. As he informed the member of the District Court, the fate of the czar and his family did not “interest” him. But it is worthy of notice that this unemotional workman insists that he took no part whatever in the actual murder, which implies that the tragedy was repugnant even to a man of his type.His account also bears the imprint of truth. It is evident from it that Medvedeff possessed no imagination, and he describes the blood-stained room, and the bleeding corpses exactly as everyday occurrences. There is no attempt to impress his interrogator. His standpoint is: “I saw these things, this is how they happened. I have nothing more to say.”His account of the disposal of the corpses differs from that of Yakimoff. It agrees, however, that the route taken by the motor lorry was in the direction of the Verkh-Issetsk Works.—Editor’s Note.]

His account also bears the imprint of truth. It is evident from it that Medvedeff possessed no imagination, and he describes the blood-stained room, and the bleeding corpses exactly as everyday occurrences. There is no attempt to impress his interrogator. His standpoint is: “I saw these things, this is how they happened. I have nothing more to say.”

His account of the disposal of the corpses differs from that of Yakimoff. It agrees, however, that the route taken by the motor lorry was in the direction of the Verkh-Issetsk Works.—Editor’s Note.]

On February 21, 1919, in the town of Yekaterinburg, a member of Yekaterinburg district court, J. Sergeeff, examined the person named below as one of the accused, in accordance with Article No. 403-409 of the Code of Criminal Procedure. The accused deposed as follows:

I am Pavel Spiridonovitch Medvedeff, thirty-oneyears of age, and belong to the Orthodox Church; able to read and write; born a peasant of the Sissert factory of the Yekaterinburg district. I have a house belonging to me at the factory.

In September, 1914, I was mobilised and assigned to the Opolchenskaia Drujina (33rd territorial battalion), located in the town of Verhotourie. I stayed with the battalion for two months. I was then discharged and exempted from military service, on account, I believe, of being employed as a munition worker.

After the February revolution, in April, 1917, I joined the Bolshevik party, as the majority of the workmen in our factory did. During three months I paid to the party treasury one per cent of my wages. Then I ceased to pay because I was not willing to participate in the activities of the party.

After the October revolution, in January, 1918, I was enlisted in the Red army and in February they sent me to the front to fight against Dutoff. Commissar Sergius Mrachkovsky was in command of my detachment. We were fighting in the vicinity of Troizk, but our fighting was not a success, as we did more wandering on the steepes than actual fighting. In April I came home on leave and spent three weeks there. In the second half of May the above-mentioned Commissar Mrachkovsky came to our factory and began to recruit workmen for a special detachment which was assigned to guard the house where the former emperor, Nicholas II, and his family lived. The conditions appeared attractive to me and I enlisted. Altogether thirty workmen were enlisted.

On May 19, 1918, the detachment recruited by Commissar Mrachkovsky came to Yekaterinburg and was quartered in the Novy Gostiny Dvor (new market house), where we lived till May 24th. According to the order of the Ural district soviet, we elected from amongst our number two seniors. Alexis Nikiforoff and I were elected. On May 24th our detachment was transferred to new quarters, to the lower floor of the Ipatieff house. The same day the former emperor with his family arrived. They were placed in the upper floor of this same house. The whole upper floor of the house was at their disposal, except one room (to the left from the entrance), which was occupied by the commandant of the house and his assistant. Alexander Avdeieff, workman of the Zlokasoff factory, was the commandant. Moshkin (I don’t remember his Christian name) was his assistant. Two other men were also quartered in the commandant’s room. I do not know their names, but I know they were Zlokasoff workmen.

As soon as our party arrived at the Ipatieff house the commandant ordered me, as I was senior, to receive the prisoners. Together with Avdeieff and Moshkin I entered the corner room (the czar’s bedroom). The following persons were there: The emperor, his wife, son, four daughters, Dr. Botkin, the cook, the waiter and a boy. (I do not know their names.) After having counted the party and finding that they were twelve in number, we left, without having spoken to them. In the room adjoining the czar’s bedroom were placed the czar’s four daughters. At first there were no beds for them. After two or three days the beds were put in. The commandant was in charge of the internal life in the house; the guards performed only sentry duty. At first the guards were on duty in three turns, but later in four. We stayed in Ipatieff’s house two or three weeks, after which we were transferred to Popoff’s house, which was exactly opposite Ipatieff’s house. In a few days after this the guard was augmented by fourteen more workmen from the Zlokasoff factory, which is situated in Yekaterinburg. These Zlokasoff workmen also elected their senior, by the name of Iakimoff. There were altogether eleven sentry posts; two were inside the house; two by the machine guns; and four outside the house.

Every day the czar’s family used to walk in the garden. The heir was sick all the time and the emperor carried him to his wheel chair. At the beginning, dinner for the family was brought from the soviet’s dining-room; but afterwards they were allowed to prepare their own dinner in the kitchen of the upper floor. The seniors’ (guard captains’) duties were to take charge of the food and supplies of the guardsmen, to change the sentries, and supervise them. When on duty the senior had to stay inthe commandant’s room. At first the seniors took turns every twelve hours in performing their duties. Then the third senior was elected, Constantine Dobrynin, and after this we did duty in eight-hour shifts. At the end of June or at the beginning of July (I don’t remember exactly), the commandant, Avdeieff, and his assistant, Moshkin were removed (it seems that they were suspected of stealing the czar’s belongings). A new commandant was assigned; his name was Iourovsky. The new commandant’s assistant arrived with him. His name I do not remember. In the evening of July 16th the time of my duty had just begun, when between seven and eight p. m. the commandant, Iourovsky, ordered me to take all the Nagan revolvers from the guardsmen and to bring them up to him. I took twelve revolvers from the sentries as well as from some other guardsmen and brought them to the commandant’s office. Iourovsky announced to me: “We will have to shoot them all tonight; notify the guardsmen not to be alarmed if they should hear the shots.” I understood that Iourovsky had in mind to shoot the whole of the czar’s family as well as the doctor and servants who lived with them, but I did not ask him where or by whom the decision was made. I must tell you that the boy who assisted the cook, in accordance with Iourovsky’s order, was transferred in the morning to the guardsmen’s rooms in the Popoff house. The lower floor of Ipatieff’s house was occupied by the Letts from the Letts commune whotook up their quarters there after Iourovsky was made commandant. They were ten in number. At about ten o’clock in the evening, in accordance with Iourovsky’s order, I informed the guardsmen not to be alarmed if they should hear firing. About midnight Iourovsky woke up the czar’s family. I do not know if he told them the reason they were wakened and where they were to be taken, or not. I positively affirm that it was Iourovsky who entered the rooms where the czar’s family was. Iourovsky had not ordered me or Dobrynin to waken the family. In about an hour the whole of the family, the doctor, maid and two waiters got up, washed and dressed themselves. Just before Iourovsky went to wake the family up, two members of the extraordinary commission arrived at Ipatieff’s house. Shortly after one o’clock in the night the czar, czaritza, their four daughters, the maid, the doctor, the cook and the waiter left their rooms. The czar carried the heir in his arms. The emperor and heir were dressed in “Gimnasterkas” (soldiers’ shirts) and wore caps. The empress and the daughters were dressed, but their heads were uncovered. The emperor with the heir proceeded first. The empress, her daughters and the others followed him. Iourovsky, his assistant, and the two above-mentioned members of the extraordinary commission were accompanying them. I was also present. During my presence nobody of the czar’s family asked anybody any questions. They did not either weep or cry. Having descended thestairs to the first floor, we went out into the court, and from there by the second door (counting from the gate) we entered the lower floor of the house. When the corner room, adjoining the storeroom with a sealed door, was entered, Iourovsky ordered chairs to be brought. His assistant brought three chairs. One chair was given to the emperor, one to the empress, and the third to the heir. The empress sat by the wall with the window, near the back pillar of the arch. Behind her stood three of her daughters (I knew their faces very well, because I saw them every day when they were walking, but I didn’t know them by name). The heir and the emperor sat side by side, almost in the middle of the room. Dr. Botkin stood behind the heir. The maid, a very tall woman, stood by the left post of the door leading to the storeroom; by her side stood one of the czar’s daughters (the fourth). Two servants stood at the left from the entrance of the room, against the wall separating the storeroom.

The maid had a pillow. The czar’s daughters also brought small pillows with them. One pillow was put on the empress’s chair; another on the heir’s chair. It looked as if all of them guessed their fate, but not a single sound was uttered. At the same time eleven men entered the room: Iourovsky, his assistant, two members of the extraordinary commission, and seven Letts. Iourovsky ordered me to leave, saying: “Go to the street, see if there is anybody there and if the shots can be heard.” I wentout to the court which was enclosed by a fence, and before I could get out to the street I heard the firing. Immediately I returned to the house (only two or three minutes having elapsed), and on entering the room where the execution took place, I saw all the members of the czar’s family lying on the floor, having many wounds in their bodies. The blood was running in streams, the doctor, the maid and the waiters were also shot. When I entered the heir was still alive and moaned. Iourovsky went up and fired two or three more times at him. The heir grew still.

The aspect of the murder and the smell and sight of the blood made me sick. Before the assassination Iourovsky distributed the revolvers; he gave me one also, but, as I said before, I did not take part in the murder. After the assassination Iourovsky said to me that I was to bring some guardsmen to wash up the blood in the room. On the way to Popoff’s house I met two seniors, Ivan Starkoff and Constantine Dobrynin. They were running in the direction of Ipatieff’s house. Dobrynin asked me: “Has Nicholas II been shot?” I answered that Nicholas II and the whole of his family had been shot. I brought twelve or fifteen guardsmen with me. These men carried the bodies to the motor truck that stood near the entrance of the house. The bodies were carried on stretchers that were made from bed sheets and shafts of sledges taken from the court. When loaded on trucks they were wrappedin soldiers’ clothing. The driver was Luhanoff, a Zlokasoff workman. The members of the extraordinary commission sat on the truck and the truck went away. I do not know in what direction the truck went, neither do I know where the bodies were taken.

The blood in the room was washed out and everything was put in order. At three o’clock in the morning everything was in order. Then Iourovsky went to his room and I went to the guardroom.

I woke up after eight o’clock and went to the commandant’s room. I met there the president of the district soviet, Beloborodoff and Commissar Goloschekin and Ivan Starkoff; the last-named was on duty (he had been selected to be senior two or three weeks before). All the rooms in the house were in disorder. Things were scattered. Suit-cases and trunks were opened. Piles of gold and silver things were laid on the tables of the commandant’s room. Objects of jewelry which were taken from the members of the czar’s family just before the murder, were also there; as well as things that were on them after their death, such as bracelets, earrings and watches. The precious objects were put into trunks that were brought from the coach house. The assistant commandant was present. In one of the rooms I found under the Holy Bible six ten-rouble bank notes and appropriated them. I took also several silver rings and a few other trifles.

On the morning of the 18th my wife arrived andI went with her to the Sissert factory. I was instructed to distribute wages to the guardsmen’s families. On July 21st I returned to Yekaterinburg. All the czar’s belongings were already taken from the house and the guards relieved. On July 21st I left Yekaterinburg together with the commissar, Mrachkovsky. In Perm the Commissar Goloschokin assigned me to the party that was in charge of preparations for the destruction of the stone bridge, in case of the appearance of the White troops. I had not time enough to blow up the bridge, according to the instructions received by me, and furthermore I did not wish to do it either, as I was to surrender myself voluntarily. I received the order to blow up the bridge when it was under the fire of the Siberian troops and I surrendered voluntarily.

Answering the question as to where the bodies of the killed were taken, I can say only the following: On the way from Yekaterinburg railway station to the Alapaievsk I met Peter Ermakoff and asked him where the bodies had been carried. Ermakoff explained to me that the bodies were thrown down the shaft of a mine near the Verkh Issetsk works and after that the shaft was destroyed by bombs or explosives in order to fill it up. I do not know and never heard anything concerning the wood piles that were burned near the shaft. I do not know anything more as to where the bodies are. It did not interest me on whom depended the fate of the czar’s family and who had the right to dispose of them. I executedonly the order of those in whose service I was.

The above is all that I can tell in reference to the accusation that is made against me. I can not say any more. My testimony has been read to me and it is taken correctly.

(Signed)Medvedeff.Member of the Yekaterinburg District Court,J. Sergeeff.

On February 22, 1919, in the town of Yekaterinburg, a member of the District Tribunal, Sergeeff, having questioned the peasant, Pavel Medvedeff, prosecuted as an accomplice in the assassination of the former emperor and the members of his family, and considering what measures must be taken to prevent his escape from further inquiry has found:

(1) That Medvedeff is indicted for a crime that may be punished by a very serious penalty; (2) that before having been arrested, he was hiding himself in the Red army; and, previous to that, he escaped from Yekaterinburg just before the said town was taken by government troops. On account of the foregoing, it was resolved to put Pavel Medvedeff, thirty-one years old, under arrest in the Yekaterinburg prison.

(Signed)Member of the Yekaterinburg District Court,

J. Sergeeff.

THE WORKMEN’S AND PEASANTS’ GOVERNMENTOF THERUSSIAN FEDERATIVE REPUBLIC OF SOVIETSURAL DISTRICT SOVIETOF THEWORKMEN’S, PEASANTS’ AND SOLDIERS’ DEPUTIES

Presidio

Yekaterinburg, April 30, 1918.

“On the 30th of April, 1918, I, the undersigned, Chairman of the Ural District Soviet of Workmen’s, Peasants’ and Soldiers’ Deputies, Alexander Georgievitch Beloborodoff, received from the Commissar of the All Russian Central Executive Committee, Vasily Vaselievitch Iakovleff, the following persons transferred from the town of Tobolsk: (1) The former czar, Nicholas Alexandrovitch Romanoff; (2) former czaritza, Alexandra Theodorovna Romanova; (3) former grand duchess, Maria Nicholaevna Romanova—all of them to be kept under guard in the town of Yekaterinburg.

(Signed)A. Beloborodoff,Member of District Executive Committee,D. Didkovsky.

The true story of the martyrdom of Nicholas II., ex-Tsar of Russia, and of his wife and family is told below.

It is based upon evidence obtained by a properly constituted legal investigation. The signed depositions of eye-witnesses are in the writer’s possession, but he does not disclose their identity because many of the deponents are still in the power of the Soviets. The day will come when the guilty will be called to account, but a long time may elapse before the day of retribution dawns. The writer has sought to present the opening for the prosecution, fully confident that the eventual hearing of the evidence before a Court of law will substantiate his statement and impose a verdict of “Guilty.”

At Ekaterinburg, on the night of July 16, 1918, the Imperial family and their faithful attendants—eleven persons in all—were led into a small room in the house where they had been imprisoned and shot to death with revolvers. There had been notrial of any kind. Before their death, the captives were subjected to ill-treatment, amounting to horrible torture, mental if not physical. After death, the bodies were taken to the woods and completely destroyed. These acts had been premeditated and the murders elaborately prepared.

The actual arrangements for the crime began some weeks before the advent of anti-Bolshevist forces. Neither fear of rescue by the Whites nor plots to release the captives—the existence of which is doubtful—can be reasonably alleged in explanation of the slaughter.

The official statement issued by the Moscow Government on July 20—four days afterwards—spoke of the shooting of Nicholas as an act of necessity, but categorically affirmed that the ex-Empress and the children had been conveyed out of the city. These deliberately concocted reports of the safe removal of the family were intended to circumvent any investigation—and did so at first.

It is established beyond doubt that the ex-Tsar fell a victim to his loyalty. He had refused offers from the enemies of Russia’s Allies, proposing that he should endorse the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk.[2]

Attempts to inveigle him into an unholy alliance undoubtedly preceded the murder. All the Romanovs who died violent deaths were, like the Tsar, inconvenient to German as well as to Internationalist plans. So many tales have been circulated regarding the fate of the Romanovs, in most cases without the slightest approach to the truth, that I consider myself bound to relate the circumstances which have (1) placed in my possession the complete history and documents of the case; and (2) imposed upon me a moral obligation to publish them to the world.

In March, 1919, returning from Omsk for a short visit to Vladivostok, I met General Diterichs, an old acquaintance, of the Russian Western Armies. After the Revolution he had piloted the Czechs to Siberia and then taken charge of the Uralian front. By one of the fateful blunders that have marred intervention in behalf of Russia he had been superseded by inferior leaders, and was devoting his energies to the investigation of theTsarskoe delo(Tsar case). Knowing Diterichs, I felt sure that, sooner or later, he would again become commander-in-chief of the armies, then fighting the Reds with British and Allied assistance. Personal regard and journalistic considerations equally prompted me to follow his fortunes, good or bad. I have not had cause to regret my decision. General Diterichs was found to be indispensable and recalled to his command, when it was too late. From the first he hadseen only too clearly the rocks ahead and warned everybody concerned, and he knew that the fate of Kolchak’s attempt to restore Russia was sealed. Yet he accepted the leadership. With equal perspicacity he had also long ago realised the enormous importance of the Tsar case. Thanks to his efforts much was accomplished before the Reds, having recaptured the Urals, could obliterate all traces of the crimes committed there. He continued to follow the case even after his appointment as Commander-in-Chief and after thedébâcle.

On my arrival at Ekaterinburg a month later, I met the investigating magistrate who had been specially appointed by the Supreme Ruler (Kolchak) to conduct the inquiry into the Tsar case—Nicholas Alexeievich Sokolov. He had left his home and family in Penza to avoid service under the Reds, and had managed, after innumerable hardships and hair-breadth escapes, to cross, disguised as a peasant, into Siberia. He walked the last twenty-five miles foodless, his feet one mass of sores and blisters. An ardent sportsman, he had lost an eye through the carelessness of a comrade. He had made a name for himself in the investigation of famous criminal cases. He was relentless, tireless, full of resource in the pursuit alike of murderers and beasts of prey. The Tsar case called for the exercise of all the skill that the most genial and courageous of magistrates could display. Sokolov never faltered. It is thanks to him that an overwhelming mass of evidence has been built up into a structure that cannot be overthrown—that still continues to grow.

At all the centres of interest for the investigation—Ekaterinburg, Perm, Omsk, in field or forest, amid the disused iron mines which hid so many a gruesome record of Bolshevist “justice”—I was for many months in constant touch with the course of the inquiry, and personally took part in the search for the remains of the victims. Besides Sokolov and Diterichs only two persons signed the more importantprocès-verbaux—I was one of the two.

When the fall of Omsk appeared to be imminent, N. A. Sokolov departed eastward, taking with him all the documents, material clues, etc., which by right could be in no other hands save his. I followed later with General Diterichs, after he had resigned his command, in despair over Kolchak’s suicidal decision to defer the evacuation of the city—a decision that entailed the loss of countless lives and the death of the Supreme Ruler. We found Sokolov at Chita, persecuted by the myrmidons of the redoubtable Ataman because they personally desired that the Romanovs should be alive for certain obscure purposes of their own, and therefore wished to get rid of Sokolov for proving the contrary. After many vicissitudes and adventures he reached Harbin, whither I had also made my way, and was joined by General Diterichs.

The ultimate fate of thedossierthere had to bedecided. On all sides were hostile or doubtful organizations. To leave the originals behind and take away only duplicates was, to say the least, risky. Sokolov’s life being in danger, he hid thedossierin my car, which had the protection of the British flag. General Lokhvitsky rendered invaluable assistance in bringing about a decision. I must express my feelings of gratitude and personal regard for this very gallant soldier and gentleman, who here in the midst of a veritable bedlam preserved his unruffled courtesy and calm just as he had done in the turmoil of battle in France and of disaster in Siberia.

With the knowledge and approval of the three distinguished men above-mentioned—representing the Russia that was and that we all hope will be again—I took charge of thedossier, it being understood that, given certain contingencies, I should be free at my own discretion to make it public in whole or in part. The contingencies have arisen, and I am free. But that is not all. I consider the circumstances of today render it an imperative duty to let the Allies and the Russians know the truth. Too many hostile interests are served by deliberately concocted lies and legends regarding the fate of the Romanovs. It is time to let the light of day into this tragic and gruesome history.

When I first came into personal touch with the Tsar case many points were still obscure. I refer to the actual circumstances of the murder itself,not to extraneous aspects—political and international—that were only vaguely hinted at, and that have since attained extraordinary proportions. The confusion then existing was due to two causes: first, to the inexperience of the officials who took charge of the investigation; secondly, to the activity of Bolshevist agents who remained in the city or were concealed among the ranks of the White Administration.

The official version of the events of July 16th-17th, given out by the Reds before they fled from Ekaterinburg, was that Nicholas Romanov had been executed “after trial,” but that the family had been removed “north.” This legend became engrafted upon the minds of a great many people and still continues to exercise its luring appeal. Every sympathiser with the Soviets considered himself or herself bound to foster this version, since no Russian, however hostile to the ex-Sovereigns, could find the slightest excuse or pretext for “executing” a whole family of five children who had never taken, or been able to take, the slightest part in politics. The Russians who still belonged to the German “orientation” were also—curiously enough—disposed to credit any tale of a miraculous escape. They seemed to think that a restoration of the Monarchy—which formed the basis of their political creed—would be furthered by the “miracle” theory. Some of them had more practical aims, as will be shown later on.

N. A. Sokolov was not deceived for an instant. If, supposing, the family had been removed, their death was, to him, none the less a moral certainty. He had precise information that every other member of the Romanov kin had been murdered, although they were just as unconcerned in politics as the boy Alexis and his sisters. But the evidence of eye-witnesses, coupled with and corroborated by countless material proofs, could leave no doubt as to the fact of a wholesale murder at Ekaterinburg. All the efforts of the organisers and the supineness of the earlier investigators could not completely tangle the threads. But it became a harder task to assemble the evidence that would secure a conviction in a Court of law.

I visited the house where the victims had lived. It belonged to a certain Ipatiev, a merchant who held the rank of captain in the Engineers. By one of the ironies of Fate he bore the name of the monastery whence the first Romanov sallied to assume the Crown of All the Russias. The Ipatiev of Ekaterinburg was, however, of Jewish origin.

The Engineer Department of the Siberian Army was installed in the upper story. Directly after the occupation of the city by the Czechs General Gaida had forcibly taken possession of the premises, despite the vehement protest of the judicial authorities, alarmed by the risk of losing possible clues. The rooms underwent extensive alterations. Thiswas, of course, a flagrant violation of the most elementary principles of criminal investigation.

The lower floor was tenanted by Ipatiev himself, on the understanding that no strangers should be admitted. The small basement room—the scene of the murders—was sealed up. I saw it a few days later. Sokolov took me over the premises, explaining step by step the enactment of the tragedy. We stood in the little room, noted the trace of the bullets, the direction of the bayonet thrusts, and the splashes of blood on the walls. The room had been a shambles, and all the washing and scouring that, according to the evidence, had followed the murders could not remove tell-tale signs. We knew from the depositions of witnesses and the mute, gruesome language of the death-chamber where each of the victims sat or stood when the assassins fired their revolvers. The bullet-holes in the walls and in the floor had been carefully cut out; human blood had been found in the wood and on the bullets.

Obscene drawings and inscriptions covered the upper walls. Obviously they were the work of uncultured peasants. Their character showed only too clearly how deeply the conscience of the people had been revolted by the Razputin scandal. There were other inscriptions—in Hebrew, in German, in Magyar. Regarding them I was to learn much at a later date.

Soon afterwards I was in the woods, ten milesnorth of the city, where the peasants had found jewelry and other relics of the murdered family. I saw the tracks, still clear, of heavy lorries crashing through the trees to a group of disused iron-ore shafts. All went in one direction, ceasing near a pit round which a vast collection of clues had been discovered; precious stones, pearls, beautiful settings of gold and platinum, some hacked, broken, bearing traces of fire; metal buckles, hooks, buttons, corset-frames, pieces of charred leather and cloth, a human finger intact, a set of false teeth. The character, condition, and numbers of these various articles were in themselves sufficient to indicate the sex and ages of the victims and the manner in which their bodies had been disposed of.

First on the scene had been the peasants. For three days and nights they were cut off from the city by a cordon of Red Guards placed around the wood. Knowing that the Whites were at hand, they thought the Reds were burying arms. Vague rumours had reached them of the death of Nicholas II. As soon as the cordon had been removed they rushed to the spot. Woodcraft and native astuteness quickly opened their eyes. “It is the Tsar that they have been burning here,” they declared. On this very spot, a year later, I found topaz beads, such as the young Princesses wore, and other gems, by scratching the surface of the hardened clay surrounding the iron pit.

Led off on a false scent, the earlier investigatorhad neglected the unerring sagacity of the peasants and had even failed to make an immediate examination of the wood and pits—perhaps afraid to leave the city, because Red bands were reported to be in the neighbourhood. He was following the red-herring trailed by Soviet agents, that, to wit, the family had escaped or been removed. These agents did not know the truth themselves. They merely related what they had been instructed to say. The local Soviet had not known the facts. There had been no trial. The murders had been the work of a separate organization which directed everything from a distance. Misled by the versions thus spread, the investigator had lost himself in the maze of conflicting rumour in Ekaterinburg.

When Sokolov took over the case—in the early months of 1919—it was almost at a standstill because of the initial mistakes and incapacity of the investigator. Yet evidence had come from another quarter that should have compelled him to take the right course. From one of the Imperial servants who had escaped from a Red shooting squad it became known that several grand dukes and the Grand Duchess Elizabeth had been murdered immediately after the Ekaterinburg shooting, and that some of the bodies had been found in disused iron pits. In no case had there been any semblance of a trial. It was evident the wholesale extermination of the Romanovs had been pursued, and that all theories of the miraculous survival of the children should be abandoned.

Some idea of the crime of Ekaterinburg is now in the reader’s possession; but, in dealing with the evidence in all its aspects, it is necessary to give an account of conditions that prevailed in the country then, and of the chief actors in the drama. The murder of the Tsar and his family, even after his abdication, may not be regarded as a simple act of vengeance or casual precaution.

In 1917, the Germans had sent Lenin with a horde of Jewish revolutionaries to take possession of Russia. A Red Government, composed of persons selected in Berlin, was now in power; but they were vassals. Count Mirbach, representing the suzerain State, figured in Moscow as the virtual ruler, before whom the apostles of Karl Marx bowed the knee. At the period under review, the Reds had displayed no overt disposition to throw off the German yoke. They conformed with all the humiliating clauses of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, dutifully sending the tribute gold to Berlin which had been demanded as “war indemnity,” plundering the national Exchequer and resources by order oftheir German masters. Apparently everything was going well with the German plan of “peaceful” conquest, whatever secret hopes the Red leaders may have nurtured. Instead of a redoubtable foe, Russia was now a willing handmaid.

Ludendorff has related frankly, disingenuously, how simple and wonderful had been this operation.[3]Not only was Russia out of the war; the foodstuffs obtained from the Ukraine had literally saved Germany and her allies. Hetman Skoropadsky already ruled the Ukraine for Germany. Krasnov, at the head of the Cossacks, and Alexeiev with the gallantVolunteer army remained neutral. Ludendorff hoped to lure them into his net—a radiant combination that assured dominion over Russia and her vast resources. He explains why it was not realised. The German Government was to blame, it appears. There was a divergence of views between Berlin and G.H.Q. The latter considered that the Reds had “done their work”; so the Reds “must go,” and Krasnov and Alexeiev be diverted at once from their sympathies with the Entente in order to preclude any possibility of a revival of the Eastern front. For this purpose it was necessary to order the German divisions in the South of Russia to march on Moscow. Ludendorff felt quite sure that even Alexeiev would not be able to resist the temptation to join hands with the enemies of Sovietdom. But the obstinate, slow-witted bureaucrats in Berlin could not adapt themselves to these lightning changes. Ludendorff stormed at them: Were they blind not to see that the Reds were hoodwinking them? Did they want proofs? Were the Czech prisoners of war not proceeding eastward with the avowed object of reinforcing the French army?

This concrete accusation could not be denied. Lenin’s organization had promised Professor Masaryk to permit the Czecho-Slovaks to leave the country by way of Siberia provided they went peacefully. It was an easy riddance of possible enemies. The Czechs were proceeding quietly to Vladivostok,carefully abstaining from violence even when sorely tried by the impudence of local Soviets, giving up their arms to bribe the Reds.

Mirbach received instructions to call his Red henchmen to account; at the same time messages were conveyed from the two Kaisers to their warriors imprisoned in Siberia, enjoining upon them the duty of organising resistance to the “invaders.” How the German and Magyar officers enrolled Russian convicts and flung themselves athwart the Czech retreat with the energetic concurrence of the Soviets is a matter of history. But the connection between this circumstance and all that preceded and followed is less known. Ludendorff feared above all the re-establishment of the Eastern front, yet it was Ludendorff and his Government that brought about the very consequences that they least wanted.

Had the Czechs been allowed to depart it is certain that there would have been no military help from the Entente side, and the chances of seducing the Russian anti-Bolshevist leaders might not have been still-born. As it was, the whole edifice of guile, duplicity, and deceit, raised with such labour and cost, fell to the ground. The murder of Mirbach sounded the call of its collapse.

But at the time when the fate of the Tsar and his family hung in the balance, Germany was absolute mistress of the situation, and, had there been unity of method as well as of purpose between the German High Command and Berlin, the fate of Russia and,perhaps, of the war would have been changed. Berlin wanted to continue to rule Russia through the Soviets under Mirbach; Ludendorff aimed at the overthrow of the Soviets in order to enlist the support of the Cossacks and Volunteers. As might be expected, the conflict between them resulted in a fatal compromise—an attempt to run with the White hare and hunt with the Red hounds.

Ludendorff’s plan was to substitute a more agreeable form of government in the place of the Soviets and to modify suitably the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. Here we have the key to the removal of Nicholas II. from Tobolsk. But all that subsequently happened was conditional upon another set of forces. Sovietdom asserted itself. The working and organization of the Soviets fitted in admirably with German requirements, and incidentally subserved the plans of the murderers. New names, devised to appeal to the fancy of the mob, concealed familiar institutions. There were three principal bodies—Sovnarkom, Tsik, and Chrezvychaika, these names being abbreviations ofSoviet narodnykh kommisarov(Council of People’s Commissaries),Tsentralny ispolnitelny komitet(Central Executive Committee), andChrezvychainaia komisia dlia borby z kontr-revoliutsiei(Extraordinary Commission for Combating Counter-revolution). Under the oldrégimethe Duma, the Council of Ministers, and the Okhrana had occupied the same relative positions. Instead of the former ranks and dignities there werekomisary, all supposed to be elected, but in reality appointed by an inner and occult body.Sovdeps(Councils of Deputies) andKomitety bednoty(Poor Commissions) took over the functions of the old zemstvos and municipalities, grouped into regional communes, just as it had been proposed to group the zemstvos according to separateoblasti(regions). Sovietdom (in RussianSovdepia) had invented no new forms. It is still in the grip of the Red Okhrana.

As there was no apparent authority, the local bodies often acted independently; indeed, Lenin encouraged this tendency.Vlast na mestakh(every place its own master) was his motto. Lenin did not rule; the Soviet system was governed by other people, the fellow-passengers who came with him under German auspices. Though he delivered impassioned harangues before the Sovnarkom and received deputations from minor soviets, the real power was elsewhere—in the Tsik and Chrezvychaika; and, just as it had been in the Old Russia, the last word was always with the Police-Okhrana organisation.

Mirbach received his daily report from the Chrezvychaika. He was murdered by two men who said they came from that office. Lenin had as little to do with his death as he had with the murders, a week later, of the ex-Tsar and his family. The Red Okhrana and the inner circle of the Tsik werethe veritable authors of the crime of Ekaterinburg, and probably of Mirbach’s assassination.

Nonentities, figureheads of the Sovnarkom, do not interest us. We are concerned with great, if maleficent, personages in the Red world. Most of them are still unknown outside the ranks of the professional revolutionaries. A goodly proportion of the hundred Jews who came out of Germany with Lenin, and the hundreds who came from Chicago, deserve to be included in this gallery, for they undoubtedly held Russia under their sway. To enumerate and describe them would require a small volume. I need sketch only those who act prominently in the drama of Ekaterinburg. The most important were:—Sverdlov, Safarov, Voikov, and Goloshchekin, and the murderer-in-chief Yurovsky.

The names of Safarov and Voikov figure in the list of Lenin’s fellow-passengers. Both are very powerful Bolshevists, holding high places in the executive and police branches. Sverdlov is—I use the present tense because all these persons continue to wield their influence to the present day—the uncrowned Tsar of the Soviets. His authority is really much higher than that of Lenin or even Trotsky. He dominates the Tsik, and his creatures rule the Chrezvychaika. Sverdlov’s name appears in the Bolshevist Government as approved by Germany. The direct connection between Sverdlov and the murders of Ekaterinburg is established beyond doubt.

Goloshchekin was the representative of the above-named conclave in the regional soviet of the Urals and kept that rather recalcitrant body under secret subjection to his chiefs. The Uralian Reds were particularly self-willed and jealous of Moscow because the population consisted almost entirely of miners and metal-workers—a very advanced and independent class, having little in common with the peasant-farmer, for whom they professed contempt. Goloshchekin did whatever Sverdlov wished. A stratagem had given him absolute power. The president of the regional soviet was a Russian named Beloborodov. He was arrested by the Chrezvychaika and imprisoned on a charge of appropriating 30,000 roubles. The punishment would be death. Together with Safarov and Voikov, Goloshchekin arranged to release him. Beloborodov resumed the presidency of the regional soviet as if nothing had happened. Dishonesty was so rampant among the Komisars that the transition surprised no one. But after that, Beloborodov gave up all attempts to resist Moscow—if he had ever done so. He was henceforth a mere man of straw, kept in his place to deceive the obstreperous Uralian miners, who did not wish to be ruled from Moscow, much less by Jews.

The closest personal bonds had existed for many years between Goloshchekin and Sverdlov. They had been together in prison and exile. Goloshchekin ranked as an internationalist of the most pronouncedtype. He had been selected for the rulership of the Urals with an eye to other than political activities. He was bloodthirsty in an abnormal degree, even for a Red chieftain. People who knew him at Ekaterinburg describe Goloshchekin as a homicidal sadist. He never attended executions, but insisted upon hearing a detailed account of them. He huddled in bed shivering and quaking till the executioner came with his report, and would listen to his description of tortures with a frenzy of joy, begging for further details, gloating over the expressions, gestures and death-throes of the victims as they passed before his diseased vision.

Yurovsky had a humbler task; he was not one of the mighty ones of the Soviet. When the German plan to restore Nicholas as a vassal sovereign had failed, and the Jewish conclave in Moscow was free to carry out its vengeful purpose, Yurovsky was installed as chief gaoler and tormentor of the doomed family. The Russian commandant and guards were dismissed, ostensibly because they were pilfering. Magyarised-German soldiers under a Jewish commandant took their places and were able to rob wholesale the unfortunates whom they were supposed to protect.

The origins of Yurovsky have been fully investigated. His parents and relatives—all poor Jews—remained in Siberia after the murderer and his chiefs and accomplices had fled from Ekaterinburg. He had been a watchmaker at Tomsk, scarcely ableto make ends meet. Naturally ambitious, he despised the people around him. He was waiting for an opportunity. It came suddenly and mysteriously. Yurovsky disappeared. This was before the war. He is next heard of in Ekaterinburg as a photographic dealer. It leaked out that he had been to Berlin and become possessed of some capital. When war came, he evaded service in the trenches by qualifying as a red-cross assistant (feldsher) and remained in Ekaterinburg. When the Bolshevists seized the government, Yurovsky became one of the local agents of the new power.

At a time when he was seeking any and every means of advancement, Yorovsky had been baptised into the Lutheran church. He used to attend prayers in Ipatiev’s house. He even chatted pleasantly with the sick boy Alexis, whom, a few days later, he shot with his own hand.

Apart from the bald assertions of parties interested in spreading false reports, there is no evidence of any attempt on the part of the Romanovs to escape from any of their prisons. All the compromising “documents” produced by Soviet apologists on this subject are transparent fabrications. Loyal Russians wished to save the Tsar from the Soviets, knowing full well the danger of treachery that he incurred, and there were several organisations, working independently, but none ever began putting a plan into execution.

During the captivity at Tobolsk some money reached the prison-house secretly. It helped the prisoners to eke out the starvation allowance ordained by the Soviets. Attempts to render further aid were frustrated by a German-Bolshevist agent stationed at Tiumen. This person, a Russian officer who had married a daughter of Razputin, ingratiated himself with doubtful travellers for Tobolsk and betrayed them to the Soviet. The Germans had thus taken elaborate precautions not to allow the ex-Tsar to slip out unawares. Perhaps they thought that the Allies of Russia might try torescue him! At Ekaterinburg nothing could be done. The Reds claim to have intercepted some letters between the captives and conspirators. But it may be pointed out that not a single person was arrested there for conspiracy to help the exiles. Remembering the lavish repressions ever applied by the occult powers of the Chrezvychaika, it will be conceded that they would have missed no opportunity to exert them in such a cause. The British Consul (Mr. Preston), remaining gallantly at his post throughout the Red terror, and rendering incalculable service to the victims of Bolshevist oppression, was unable to do anything to alleviate the sufferings and torture of the Romanovs. Yet, strange to relate, a monarchist organisation had its agents in the city. It even succeeded in conveying some food and comforts through the nuns of the local monastery. Beyond that, it was unable to go. There is no evidence to show that at any time during the captivity was any active attempt made to rescue the Romanovs. This applies equally to the ex-Sovereigns and to their kinsmen. At Tobolsk, Ekaterinburg, Perm, and Alapaievsk the pretext for wholesale murder was always the same; an alleged attempt to escape or rescue. And from the testimony of persons who were in daily intercourse with the imprisoned family, it is clear that, had any serious efforts to procure their escape been made, they would have met with no encouragement. Nicholas II. repeatedly said that he would not leaveRussia; Alexandra hated above everything the idea of going to Germany. At that time Russia offered no sure place of refuge.

The Razputin propaganda had poisoned the minds of the people, but not all the people. In the villages, among the old folk, feelings of loyalty still held sway, ready at the first signal to assert themselves openly. The volumes of evidence in my possession prove this statement. Many of the witnesses were peasants who, consciously, willingly risked their lives in order that the truth about the fate of the Tsar should be established. Who knows how many of these simple souls have been martyred for their boldness?

Among the obscenities that disfigured the walls of the Ipatiev house, one inscription struck an opposite note. In uncouth peasant writing and spelling the author—evidently one of the guards—asked how long were the people going to put up with the komisars, and urged the Tsar to come forward and drive away the horde of usurpers that were ruining the country!

I cannot help thinking that the Razputin legend did not suffice to kill the people’s faith in the Tsar. It certainly discredited Alexandra, and he shared her disgrace; but that was not enough to account for the virulence of popular clamour against Nicholas II. His fate would not have been so much a matter of indifference to the multitude had the vile story of Razputin not been preceded by blunders that deeplyincensed the popular conscience. I recall the dreadful murder of women and children before the Winter Palace on Bloody Sunday. That crime was prepared by the Okhrana and attributed to the Tsar. It seems to me that had it not been for that hideous slaughter of innocents no one would have ever dared to raise a hand against the Tsar and his children. I wish to be quite fair to the Russians, without in any way extenuating the heinousness of the crime of Ekaterinburg.

The ex-Empress was the object of special hatred. She completely dominated her spouse in the imagination of the people, and occupies a place apart in the evidence. Many new facts have been brought to light substantially modifying the current estimate of her life and character. Several trunks full of papers and effects belonging to his victims were taken by Yurovsky to Moscow after the murder. Sverdlov then announced that all would be published, so that the people should see what manner of persons had ruled them. That promise has not been kept, and for a good reason: the diaries and correspondence of Nicholas and Alexandra contained no hint of treachery. They proved two things—unbounded loyalty to Russia and to the Allies; and, alas! complete subserviency of Nicholas to his wife. But neither of these matters interested the Soviet leaders, and most of these priceless documents have been suppressed in Moscow. Many others were overlooked or forgotten in Ekaterinburg, and figure in thedossierof the Tsar case. Among them is a collection of Alexandra’s letters to her maid-of-honour. There are also the depositions of servitors and members of the household. Analysing this mass of first-hand evidence, one obtains a true picture of Alexandra. Proud, domineering, self-restrained, gifted, mystical she had been from youth. Her troubles, mental and physical, had distorted these characteristics. Nicholas fell in love with her when she was fifteen, and waited patiently for her eight years. Even as a girl she dominated him. After their marriage there was never any doubt who was master. Her dominion was not even challenged. Nicholas never acted without his wife’s approval, except when he was separated from her—for instance, when he signed the writ of abdication. These were not the best qualifications for Tsardom at a time of transition. Alexandra could not attain popularity, nor would she admit the necessity of it for herself or the Tsar. Indeed, as the years passed she became less and less responsive to the demands and requirements of public opinion, which cannot be defied with impunity even by an autocrat.

Many Russians attributed these failings to the Hesse disease (bolezn Gessenskikh), the hereditary taint that had carried off many of Alexandra’s relations.[4]The fact that her only son suffered fromand might at any moment die of it only made her own trouble worse. The disease is dangerous to boys and adult women; girls do not feel its effects till they are grown up, whereas boys become immune after reaching manhood. In the case of women it is apt to prey on the mind, aggravating and intensifying any morbid predisposition. Hysteria in its worst forms is an almost invariable accompaniment. She also suffered intensely from heart trouble. Her life must have been one long agony.

Alexandra was not normal. Her belief in Razputin indicated as much. The evidence of Dr. Botkin is explicit. People who suffer from hysteria in an acute congenital form repel and estrange all persons that do not blindly accept their domination. Razputin had to be treated as a saint because Alexandra imagined him to be one. The Court of Russia became peopled with time-servers and nonentities.

I shall deal with Razputin presently. The new materials in my possession show that he was simply a peasant afflicted with a pathological condition. The legend that has grown up regarding his occult powers can be traced not to Razputin, but to his “friends.” He was a mere tool. Alexandra wanted him—to cure her son; others used him for personal or political intrigues because Alexandra, the veritable Autocrat of All the Russias, had need of him. In the tragedy of the Romanovs every thread leads us to this Woman of Destiny.

The very exhaustive records of their life before and after the Revolution give a true presentment of the family, such as no individual could furnish even if he or she had been in the closest intimacy with Nicholas or Alexandra. One is struck by the almost superhuman secretiveness of the ex-Sovereigns. They did not trust anyone completely. Most of the persons who were supposed to be particularly attached to them knew little or nothing of their inner life and thoughts. This explains, perhaps, why so few decided to follow them into exile. Only between themselves does there appear to have been no reserve.

Alexandra’s personality is reflected in her family—Nicholas, like herself, an embodiment of all the domestic virtues, religious to the verge of mysticism, expert in dissimulation, never showing anger, perhaps never really feeling angry, incapable of a decision—so utterly had he surrendered himself to his wife; the daughters relegated to the background entirely unprepared to take their proper place in the world; Alexis monopolizing all the care and attention of his mother; the children ashamed of her belief in Razputin, yet not daring openly to resent it.

Among the Court favourites, male or female, nobody exercised any real influence except in so far as it suited the Empress. Only one person appears to have been admitted for any length of time to the Imperial confidence. That person was AnnaVyrubova. Regarding her Razputin used to speak in the crudest terms to the companions of his tavern-revels, who, of course, repeated his drunken boasts. That was the origin of her infamous notoriety. She herself could not have devised a surer way of retaining Alexandra’s favour. The detractors of Vyrubova had also dared to retail the foulest stories about Alexandra, alleging the same source. Alexandra rightly considered herself a victim of slander, and naturally included Anna under the same designation.

The fact is, Anna Vyrubova was Razputin’s accomplice—nothing more. She kept him in touch with everything, especially with the boy’s health. It was at her house that Razputin saw the Emperor and Empress when it became too scandalous for him to appear daily in the Palace—after the dismissal of governesses who had raised an outcry against Razputin’s familiarities with their charges.

Another person deserves mention. It is not positively shown how far his influence was felt, but certainly he played an important part in the Romanov tragedy. He was in many ways a mystery man—a doctor of Thibetan medicine, by birth a Buriat, named Badmaiev. Besides dispensing nostrums that cured all ills—often bringing relief where modern science had failed—he dabbled in politics, and who knows what dark forces were served by him? Razputin was one of his best clients. According to Razputin one could immediatelyregain all the vigour of youth by swallowing a powder composed of Thibetan herbs; another kind of powder made one quite indifferent to worry. Badmaiev reserved these specifics for people whom he could trust. The first-named kind was for Razputin, but who was the recipient of the “dope” that “made you forget”—who if not the hapless Nicholas? And once it is admissable that the peasant had taken to drugs for unmentionable purposes, one may seriously entertain other accusations against him and his accomplices.

According to indications contained in the evidence, Anna Vyrubova arranged the “miracles” of healing that Razputin performed on the sick boy. It was not difficult. The malady always followed the same course. A slight bruise set up internal hemorrhage. The patient suffered terrible pain while the blood flowed, clotted, and finally began to be reabsorbed. Anna knew from experience how to read the symptoms. Razputin would come to pray when the crisis was over, so that it should seem as if his intercession had brought relief. Things happened in this way on several known occasions. Razputin did not wish to lose the Empress’s favour. He and Vyrubova took their precautions. And Badmaiev’s powders may here also have been used with benefit to all concerned. Alexandra’s eyes were never opened to the fact that Razputin’s prayers did not affect the disease.

It will be argued by those who knew Vyrubovathat she was too garrulous to keep a secret, too child-like to conceive or carry out any intrigue, and still less any act affecting the Empress in whose hands she was as wax. To have lived for twenty years in the confidence of such a woman as the Empress presumes the possession of no ordinary faculties, whether of extreme innocence combined with serpent wisdom or of profound guile hidden under an appearance of candour. Vyrubova’s apologists would have us believe that she was nothing better than an idiot. The skill with which she crept into the good graces of the Imperial family, ably seconding all the moves of the practised courtier Taneiev, her father, shows the absurdity of such a theory and sufficiently denotes her real disposition.

Woman-like, the Empress regarded all things from a personal standpoint. Her malady only served to intensify her likes and dislikes. One of her particular aversions was Wilhelm of Prussia, first, because the Hohenzollerns had been exalted at the expense of her own House; secondly, because Wilhelm had not counted with her. Germany, ruled by Wilhelm, was ever the foe of Russia ruled by Alexandra. She could not admit the possibility of a compromise or truce with Wilhelm’s Germany, any more than she would permit the Tsar to summon a Ministry composed of Razputin’s detractors and enemies. A complete and ludicrous misapprehension prevailed in Russia and among the Allied peoples about the alleged pro-German tendencies of theex-Empress. She hated Germany with a bitterness and a fervour equalled only by her contempt and loathing for the Russians—always excepting the peasants, whom she “imagined” to be endowed with all the virtues and qualities that Razputin was supposed to possess.

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