EPILOGUE

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THE summer of 1919 was marked by the great reverses which were to bring, a few months later, the downfall of Admiral Koltchak’s government. The Bolshevik troops had retaken Perm and were threatening Ekaterinburg. The work undertaken in the clearing at Koptiaki had to be abandoned before its completion. On July 12th, N. Sokolof, heart-broken, decided to leave for Omsk. There he spent the month of August, and then, seeing that the situation was growing still worse, he went on to Tchita, whilst I remained at Omsk.

A few weeks after his departure, two Russian officers came to the French Military Mission and asked to speak to me. They told me that General D—— had an important communication to make to me, and begged me to be so kind as to go and see him. We got into the car which was waiting, and a few moments later I found myself in his presence.

General D—— informed me that he wanted to show me a boy who claimed to be the Czarevitch. I knew in fact that a rumour was spreading in Omsk that the Czarevitch was still alive. He was announced to be in a small town of AltaÏ. I had been told that the inhabitants had greeted him with enthusiasm, the schoolchildren had made a collection on his behalf, and the governor of the station had offered him, on his knees, bread and salt. In addition, Admiral Koltchak had received a telegram asking him to come to the assistance of the pretended Czarevitch. I had paid no attention to these stories.

Fearing that these circumstances might give rise to difficulties, the Admiral had had the “Pretender” brought to Omsk; and General D—— had called for me, thinking that my evidence would settle the difficulty and put a stop to the legend that was beginning to grow up.

The door of the next room was opened a little, and I was able to observe, unknown to him, a boy, taller and stronger than the Czarevitch, who seemed to me fifteen or sixteen years old. His sailor’s costume, the colour of his hair, and the way it was arranged were vaguely reminiscent of Alexis NicolaÏevitch. There the resemblance ended.

I told General D—— the result of my observations. The boy was introduced to me. I put several questions to him in French: he remained dumb. When a reply was insisted upon he said that he understood everything I had said but had his own reasons for only speaking Russian. I then addressed him in that language. This, too, brought no results. He said he had decided to answer no one but Admiral Koltchak himself. So our interview ended.[77]

Chance had brought across my path the first of the countless pretenders who doubtless for many years to come will be a source of trouble and agitation among the ignorant and credulous masses of the Russian peasantry.

In March, 1920, I rejoined General DitÉriks and N. Sokolof at Kharbine, whither they had drifted, like myself, after the collapse of Admiral Koltchak’s government. They were in a state of great agitation, for the situation in Manchuria was growing daily more precarious, and it was expected that at any moment the Chinese eastern railway might fall into the hands of the Reds. Bolshevik spies were already beginning to swarm over the station and its surroundings. What was to be done with the documents of the enquiry? Where could they be put in safety? General DitÉriks and N. Sokolof had appealed to the British High Commissioner before his departure for Pekin, asking him to take to Europe the relics of the Imperial family and the evidence of the enquiry. He had asked for instructions from his Government. The reply was a long time coming. It came at last.... It was in the negative!

I then appealed personally to General Janin, informing him of the situation.[78]

“I am quite ready to help you,” he told me. “I can do it on my own responsibility, as there is not time to refer the matter to my Government. But it shall not be said that a French General refused the relics of one who was the faithful ally of France. Ask General DitÉriks to furnish me with a written request expressing his certainty of my consent; I should consider doubt as a reflection on me.”

The letter was sent, and General DitÉriks came to an understanding with General Janin as to the arrangements for transmitting the precious objects to the person named by him in Europe.

Two days later, General DitÉriks, his two orderly officers, N. Sokolof, and myself took on our shoulders the heavy valises prepared beforehand and carried them to General Janin’s train, which was standing a short distance from the station. In single file we were approaching the platform when those in the rear suddenly saw several figures start up out of the shadows and accost us, shouting: “Where are you going? What have you got in those bags?” As we hurried on without reply they made as if to stop us and ordered us to open our valises. The distance that remained was fortunately not very great; we dashed forward at full speed, and a moment later reached the General’s carriage, the sentries having already run up to meet us.

At last all the evidence was in safety. It was time, for, as had just been proved, we were marked down. An hour later we slipped out of the train one after the other and made our way unobserved between the carriages of others standing near.

On the next day General DitÉriks brought General Janin the box containing the relics of the Imperial family.

This happened on March 19th, 1920.

. . . . . .

There was nothing now to keep me in Siberia. I felt that I had fulfilled the last duty towards those to whom I was attached by such poignant memories. More than two years had passed since I had been separated from them at Ekaterinburg.

Ekaterinburg! As I was leaving Russia, with what emotion I lived again, down to the least details, the painful scenes which this name called up in my mind! Ekaterinburg to me meant the despair of feeling my every effort vain; cruel and brutal separation; for them it was to be the last stage of their long Calvary, two months of suffering to be endured before the supreme deliverance.

It was the period when Germany was determined to triumph at any price and believed that victory was at last within her grasp; and while William fraternised with Lenin, his armies were making one more thrust at Paris.

In this total collapse of Russia there were still two points of resistance; in this abysmal night two fires remained where the flame of faith still burned bright. There was, on the one hand, General Alexeief’s gallant little army of volunteers, struggling desperately against the Soviet regiments stiffened by German officers. On the other, behind the wooden enclosures which imprisoned him, the Czar, too, was leading his last fight. Supported by the Czarina, he had refused all compromise. Nothing remained but to sacrifice their lives; they were ready to do this rather than bargain with the enemy who had ruined their country by violating its honour.

And death came, but death refused to separate those whom life had so closely bound together, and it took them all seven, united in one faith and one love.

I feel that events have spoken for themselves. Anything I might be able to add now—intensely as my feelings have been quickened by recalling those days of anguish relived sometimes from hour to hour—would appear mere vain literature and misplaced sentimentality compared with the poignant significance of the facts.

I must, however, assert here this conviction: it is impossible that those of whom I have spoken should have suffered their martyrdom in vain. I know not when it will be, nor how; but one day or other, without any doubt, when brutality has bled itself to death in the excess of its fury, humanity will draw from the memory of their sufferings an invincible force for moral reparation.

Whatever revolt may rankle in the heart, and however just vengeance may be, to hope for an expiation in blood would be an insult to their memory.

The Czar and Czarina died believing themselves martyrs to their country: they have died martyrs to humanity. Their real greatness is not to be measured by the prestige of their Imperial dignity, but by the wonderful moral heights to which they gradually attained. They have become a force, an ideal; and in the very outrage they have suffered we find a touching testimony to that wonderful serenity of soul against which violence and passion can avail nothing and which triumphs unto death.

THE END
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FOOTNOTES:

[1] To give some idea of what I mean, it is only necessary to record that in one of these books (which is based on the evidence of an eyewitness of the drama of Ekaterinburg, the authenticity of which is guaranteed) there is a description of my death! All the rest is on a par.

Everyone desiring information about the end of the reign of Nicholas II. should read the remarkable articles recently published in the Revue des Deux Mondes by M. Paleologue, the French Ambassador at Petrograd.

[2] It was in 1909 that my duties as tutor to Duke Sergius of Leuchtenberg came to an end. I had thus more time for my duties at the Court.

[3] An Imperial sporting estate in the Government of Grodno. This forest and the Caucasus are the only places where the aurochs, or European bison, is found. They still rove these immense forests, which occupy an area of more than three thousand acres.

[4] An ancient hunting-seat of the kings of Poland.

[5] He was generally carried by Derevenko, formerly a sailor on the Imperial yacht Standard, to whom this duty had been assigned several years before.

[6] He had the same surname as Derevenko, the sailor whom I have mentioned above. A constant cause of confusion.

[7] About 85 per cent. of bleeders die in their childhood or early youth. The chances of a fatal issue diminish greatly as they attain manhood. That is easily understood. An adult knows how to exercise the care his condition requires, and the causes of trauma are thus greatly lessened. Although hÆmophilia is incurable, it does not prevent many of its victims from reaching an advanced old age. The children of Alexis NicolaÏevitch would not have been affected by this terrible malady, as it is only transmitted by women.

[8] Queen Victoria did not like the Germans and had a particular aversion for the Emperor William II., which she handed on to her granddaughter, who always preferred England, her country on her mother’s side, to Germany. Yet she always remained greatly attached to the friends and relations she had left there.

[9] She was extremely anxious to improve the lot of poor women by building maternity and other hospitals. She hoped to establish professional schools, and so on.

[10] Her continual fear of an attempt on the life of the Czar or her son always helped to wear down the Czarina’s nervous vitality.

[11] Relations between the Czarina and Mlle. Tioutcheva were never again what they had been, and the latter resigned her post in the spring of 1912.

[12] Son of the famous Professor Sergius Botkin and Court Physician.

[13] The regiment which acted as the Czar’s bodyguard. It comprised representatives of all the regiments of the Guard.

[14] At the time my pupil was learning Russian, French, arithmetic, history, geography and religious knowledge. He did not begin English until later, and never had German lessons.

[15] Her Majesty talked English with them, the Czar Russian only. The Czarina talked English or French with the members of her suite. She never spoke in Russian (though she spoke it pretty well ultimately) except to those who knew no other language. During the whole period of my residence with the Imperial family I never heard one of them utter a word of German, except when it was inevitable, as at receptions, etc.

[16] It was thus that I learned that from January 1st, 1914, to the day of his death in December, 1916, Rasputin only saw Alexis NicolaÏevitch three times.

[17] Kerensky’s “Extraordinary Commission of Enquiry” established the falsity of the libellous reports about her relations with Rasputin. In this connection see the report of M. Roudnief, one of the members of that Commission: “La vÉritÉ sur la famille russe” (Paris, 1920). What he says was confirmed during our captivity at TsarskoÏe-Selo by Colonel Korovitchenko, who will come into this book later on.

[18] Now Crown Prince of Rumania.

[19] Now Queen of Rumania.

[20] Now King of Rumania.

[21] Who could have foreseen that if the marriage had taken place she would have escaped the dreadful fate in store for her!

[22] A few weeks later the King of Saxony was the only prince in the German Confederation—with the exception of the Grand-Duke of Hesse, the Czarina’s brother—who tried to prevent a rupture with Russia. He was averse to associating himself with any employment of force against a nation whose guest he had just been. Yet it did not prevent him from indulging in the most fiery speeches once war had been declared.

[23] A small steam-yacht with paddles. The draught of the Standard was too great to allow her to fetch us from Peterhof.

[24] This subcutaneous hÆmorrhage is particularly painful when it occurs in a joint.

[25] Rasputin was taken to the hospital at Tioumen and operated upon by a specialist sent from St. Petersburg. The operation was a wonderful success, and a week later the patient was out of danger. His recovery was considered miraculous. Neither fire not steel could avail against one who was obviously under the direct protection of the Almighty!

[26] The Czar used to say that diplomacy is the art of making white appear black. Apropos of this subject, he once quoted me Bismarck’s definition of an ambassador, “A man sent to another country to tell lies for the benefit of his own,” and he added: “Thank Heaven they’re not all trained in his school, but diplomats have a gift for complicating the most simple questions.”

[27] Austria delayed the issue of the ultimatum until it was a practical impossibility for news of it to reach St. Petersburg before M. PoincarÉ left.

[28] In the winter of 1918, when I was at Tioumen, I saw copies of these very telegrams. Later on I found it impossible to get hold of the text again.

[29] The German General Staff knew only too well that in view of the extreme complexity of the Russian mobilisation (the immense size of the country, the poor railways, etc.), it could not be countermanded without such a disorganisation of the services as would prevent it being resumed for three weeks. A start of three weeks for Germany meant certain victory.

[30] I had these details from the Grand-Duchess Anastasie NicolaÏevna, who described the scene to me next morning.

[31] Alexis NicolaÏevitch had not recovered from his accident when he made his condition worse by an imprudent act. He was thus unable to accompany his parents to St. Petersburg—a great blow to them.

[32] I cannot say that the Czarina had any personal affection for France, a country with which she had no ties and no particular temperamental affinity. She did not understand the French mind, and took all the literary acrobatics of our “immoralistes” quite seriously. On the other hand, she thoroughly enjoyed the great nineteenth-century poets.

[33] He was the grandson of the Czar Nicholas I., and had been appointed Generalissimo of the Russian armies immediately after the declaration of war.

[34] This is the gate by which the Czars always entered to go to the Kremlin when they visited Moscow. It leads from the city to the Red Square, which lies against the eastern wall of the Kremlin.

[35] In the 39 Governments of Russia the executive authorities were assisted by the provincial assemblies (zemstvos), who looked after the economic interests of the Government, the establishment of schools, hospitals, etc. There were also district zemstvos in the same Governments.

[36] Madame Wyroubova survived her injuries, but her convalescence was a very long and dreary process and she was always a cripple after her accident.

[37] By a ukase of August 31st, 1914, the Czar had decreed that St. Petersburg should henceforth be called Petrograd.

[38] It was the same sentiment which made him say to an officer of his suite after his abdication: “Just to think that, now I am Czar no longer, they won’t even let me fight for my country!” The words reveal the very depths of his soul.

[39] The French army in its march on Moscow occupied Mohileff on July 19th, and Marshal Davout lived for several days in the same house which the Czar and Czarevitch had made their quarters.

[40] Professor Fiodrof accompanied the Czar on all his journeys after the latter took over the supreme command. Dr. Botkin and Dr. Derevenko had remained behind at TsarskoÏe-Selo.

[41] I should like to record a slight incident at the beginning of spring when the Czar was at TsarskoÏe-Selo between his visits to the front. It illustrates the kind of feelings the Czar entertained for Germany and tried to instil into his son. The Czarevitch was playing in the park that day, and the Czar and the Grand-Duchesses were also there. He slipped behind his youngest sister, who had not seen him coming, and threw a huge snowball at her. His father had witnessed the act. He called the boy to him and talked to him severely. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Alexis! You’re behaving like a German, to attack anyone from behind when they can’t defend themselves. It’s horrid and cowardly. Leave that sort of behaviour to the Germans!”

[42] I was able to ascertain this for myself at the end of 1915. At the house of some friends one day I met a young officer whose political opinions were favourable to the Court. He told us with intense indignation that on the Czarina’s orders someone had taken gifts and money to the German officers being treated at the same hospital as he had been in. This envoy had not even entered the rooms occupied by the Russian officers. Astonished at his story, I asked for details. An enquiry was ordered. It completely confirmed the story I had been told, but it was impossible to trace the individual who had succeeded, by the use of forged papers, in making the authorities believe he had an official mission. Pure chance had brought me into contact with one of the many provocations organised by German spies with German money.

[43] At the time I am writing I find what I have said fully confirmed in the following passage from an article by M. Paleologue, French Ambassador at Petrograd: La Russie des Tsars pendant la Grande Guerre (Revue des Deux Mondes of March 15th, 1921):

“I have several times heard the Czarina charged with having preserved sympathies, predilections, and a warm corner for Germany when she was on the throne. The unfortunate woman in no way merited these strictures, which she knew of and made her so unhappy. Alexandra Feodorovna was German neither in spirit nor in sentiment. She never was.”

Further on he says:

“Her education, bringing-up, her intellectual and moral outlook were entirely English. She was English in appearance and bearing, in a certain element of reserve and Puritanism, in the intractable and militant austerity of her conscience, and, lastly, in many of her personal habits. In any case, that was all that was left of her Western origin. The basis of her character had become entirely Russian. In spite of the hostile legend which was growing up round her name, I did not doubt her patriotism. She had a fervent love of Russia.”

[44] It was only subsequently that I learned that, to overcome the resistance he met with at Bucharest, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, Sturmer (who had succeeded Sazonoff), had promised that Russian troops would be sent to Rumania. He had not referred to G.H.Q. first.

[45] History will one day settle what part Sturmer played. If he did not actually work for a rapprochement with Germany, though everything seems to show that he did, he none the less did his country irreparable harm through his criminal negligence and utter lack of scruples.

[46] The very education of a sovereign makes him entirely unfitted for the task before him, and yet it is impossible to make good the defect afterwards. The larger the part he plays in government the less he knows of what is going on. To keep him away from his people he is given nothing but mutilated, distorted, and “cooked” reports. No one can realise the resisting power of those about a throne, the invincible apathy of a bureaucracy steeped in traditional observance and routine! Whatever strength of mind, whatever tenacity a sovereign may display in finding out the truth, does he ever really succeed? Napoleon had been through the school of life, and raised himself to a throne by sheer genius and audacity, but his fate was the same as that of other rulers. In the last years of his reign did he still know what was happening in France? Had he still a sense of reality?

[47] It really seems that a perverse fate intervened to protect Rasputin. One day the Czar was given a document in which the excesses of the staretz were set forth highly circumstantially. In reading it the Czar observed that on the day and hour at which one of the acts mentioned in the document were alleged to have taken place Rasputin had actually been at TsarskoÏe-Selo. Nothing more was required to convince the Czar that the whole report was simply a tissue of lies.

[48] The Grand-Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna had founded a small religious community, of which she was the Superior, at Moscow. She lived there retired from the world, devoting all her time to prayer and good works.

[49] I had all these details from the lips of Mlle. Schneider, reader to the Czarina, who had once been in the household of the Grand-Duchess Elizabeth, who had always remained very fond of her.

[50] The circumstances of Rasputin’s death are to be found in the newspapers of the time. I will briefly recapitulate them here. His death was the result of a plot in which some of the participants were the Grand-Duke Dimitri Pavlovitch, first cousin of the Czar, Prince Yussoupoff, whose wife was the niece of Nicholas II., M. Purichkevitch, a monarchist deputy in the Duma, and Dr. Lazarevsky, who accompanied him. The Grand-Duke wished to show by his presence that it was not a case of an act of rebellion against the Czar, but merely the execution of a miscreant whom the nation had judged and found guilty of abusing the confidence of his sovereign.

Rasputin was killed on the night of December 30th. Prince Yussoupoff had gone to fetch him in his car very late in the evening, and brought him to his house. They first tried to poison him, but as the poison was slow in taking effect, Prince Yussoupoff and the deputy killed him with revolvers. His corpse was thrown into the Neva and was picked up two days later.

[51] I am referring, of course, to the articulate portion of the nation. The untutored masses cared nothing about him, and among those who knew of his existence a large number were favourable to him. Many considered his death an act of vengeance on the part of the courtiers who were jealous of their privileges. “The first time that one of ourselves gets to the Czar, he is killed by the courtiers,” they said.

To the moujik the great criminals were those who came between the sovereign and his people, and prevented him from extending his favours to them. There was a popular saying that “the Czar gives, but his servants withhold,” in which the peasant expressed his faith in the goodness of his Czar and his hatred of those around him.

[52] Ludendorff, My War Memories, vol. ii. (Hutchinson and Co., London). What Ludendorff did not mention, and for good reason, was the untiring efforts Germany had made to produce this revolution which had broken out so unexpectedly.

[53] Is not this idea illustrated in the popular saying which betrays the simple faith of the Russian peasant and his feeling of impotence: “God is a very long way up; the Czar a very long way off.”

[54] Ludendorff exaggerates the rÔle of the Entente in the Russian Revolution when he writes: “In March, 1917, a Revolution, the work of the Entente, overthrew the Czar.” The movement was supported by the Allies, but it was not their work. Ludendorff shows well enough what were its immediate results for Germany. “The Revolution meant a fatal loss of military power to Russia, weakened the Entente and gave us considerable relief in our heavy task. The General Staff could at once effect important economies of troops and ammunition, and could also exchange divisions on a much greater scale.” And further on: “In April and May, 1917, it was the Russian Revolution which saved us in spite of our victory on the Aisne and in Champagne.” (Ludendorff, My War Memories, vol. ii.).

Thus, by the admission of the Germans themselves, if there had been no Russian Revolution the war would have ended in the autumn of 1917 and millions of human lives would have been spared. Do we realise what would have been the force of a treaty of Versailles signed by the Entente, including Russia! Germany, seized in a vice, would not have been able to escape the fate of the vanquished. The consequences of the Russian Revolution (Bolshevism) have thrown Russia into the arms of Germany. She is still there. Germany alone is in a position to organise and exploit her immense resources. It is in Russia that Germany is preparing her revenge against the Entente.

[55] Russia had been engaged in a reorganisation of the army which increased the number of her divisions and greatly augmented her striking force.

[56] Professor Fiodorof, realising that every hour’s delay meant less chance of averting imminent disaster, went to find General V——, who was one of the most prominent members of the Czar’s staff. He found him perched on a ladder engaged in fixing a nail in the wall on which to hang a picture. Fiodorof told him his fears and begged him to see the Czar at once. But the General called him a “revolution maniac,” and, picking up his hammer, continued the operation which had been interrupted by his tiresome visitor.

[57] It was a great misfortune for the Czar Nicholas II. and the Czarina Alexandra Feodorovna that they ascended the throne so young. Like Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, they could have said, “Guard us, protect us, O God! We are reigning too young!”

History will ultimately give them their due. What was not written about Louis XVI. at the time of the French Revolution? What accusations were levelled against him? Was there any calumny of which he was not the victim? Yet the children in France learn to-day that “he was honest and kind, and desired to do good” (Malet, RÉvolution et Empire, p. 312). It will be the same with Nicholas II., with the difference that he was a victim to his devotion to his country because he rejected all compromise with the enemy.

[58] Another Imperial residence, twelve miles south-west of Petrograd.

[59] No one can have any idea of what the Czarina suffered during these days when she was despairing at her son’s bedside and had no news of the Czar. She reached the extreme limits of human resistance in this last trial, in which originated that wonderful and radiant serenity which was to sustain her and her family to the day of their death.

[60] Colonel Kobylinsky shortly before had replaced Colonel Korovitchenko as Commandant of the palace.

[61] These were Count and Countess Benckendorf, whom their great age and uncertain state of health prevented from following us; Baroness Buxhoeveden, who was kept back by illness and was to join us at Tobolsk as soon as she could, and a certain number of servants. Kerensky had asked the Czar whether he wished Count Benckendorf to be replaced. The Czar had replied that he would be very glad for General Tatichtchef to come and share his captivity. On learning his Czar’s wish General Tatichtchef only allowed himself time to put his affairs in order, and a few hours later started, valise in hand, for TsarskoÏe-Selo. We found him in the train at the moment of departure. General Tatichtchef held no Court appointment; he was one of the Czar’s numerous aides-de-camp.

[62] The four nuns who used to come to sing at first had been replaced by the choir of one of the Tobolsk churches.

[63] For this tea, which the Czarina poured out herself, Their Majesties were attended by Countess Hendrikof, lady-in-waiting, General Tatichtchef, Prince Dolgorouky, and, when their duties permitted, Mlle. Schneider and Doctor Botkin. I am now the sole survivor of these evening tea-parties at Tobolsk.

[64] At that time the value of the rouble was about one-fifth of the normal.

[65] My colleague Mr. Gibbes had joined us at Tobolsk during September.

[66] The Czarina was alluding to the Czar’s abdication.

[67] When the thaw set in the river was impassable for several days; it was some time before the ferry could be re-started.

[68] Vehicles used by the peasants, and consisting of a large wicker basket hung from two long poles which take the place of springs. There are no seats; the passengers sit or lie on the floor.

[69] House belonging to a rich merchant of the town.

[70] I must pay a tribute to the very courageous conduct of the British consul, Mr. Preston, who did not shrink from open conflict with the Bolshevik authorities at the risk of compromising his personal safety.

[71] In May, 1918, the Czecho-Slovakian troops (consisting of volunteers, former prisoners of war), who had by then been developed by Kerensky into two strong divisions, were strung along the Trans-Siberian railway between Samara and Vladivostok; preparations were being made to pass them into France. The German G.H.Q., in an attempt to prevent these troops from rejoining the allied forces in Europe, ordered the Bolsheviks to disarm them. Following on an ultimatum that was rejected by the Czechs, fighting broke out between them and the Bolshevik troops under German officers. The Russian volunteer formations lost no time in joining up with the Czecho-Slovakian troops. Such was the origin of the movement which began at Omsk and soon spread over the whole of Siberia.

[72] The swastika is an Indian religious symbol consisting of a cross of equal limbs, their extremities bent to the left.

[73] The Allies had resolved to exploit the anti-Bolshevik movement which had developed in Siberia and to make immediate use of the Czecho-Slovakian troops by creating on the Volga a new front against the Germano-Bolshevik troops, which might create a diversion and hold back part of the German forces freed by the treaty of Brest-Litovsk. Hence the despatch by France and England of civil and military missions to Siberia. The anti-Bolshevik Government of Omsk was at that time controlled by Admiral Koltchak.

[74] There were three categories of Examining Magistrates: (a) Examining Magistrates for ordinary business; (b) Examining Magistrates for important business; (c) Examining Magistrates for business of particular importance.

[75] Germany’s aim was the restoration of the monarchy in favour of the Czar or Czarevitch, on condition that the treaty of Brest-Litovsk was recognised and Russia should become Germany’s ally. This plan failed, thanks to the resistance of the Czar Nicholas II., who was probably the victim of his fidelity to his allies.

[76] Medvedief was taken prisoner at the capture of Perm by the anti-Bolshevik troops in February, 1919. He died a month later at Ekaterinburg of exanthematic typhus. He claimed to have been present at only part of the drama and not to have fired himself. (Other witnesses affirm the contrary.) It is the classic defence of all the assassins.

[77] Shortly after my departure the bogus Czarevitch ultimately confessed the imposture.

[78] The French Military Mission had been gradually evacuated eastwards and was then at Kharbine.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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