IT was perhaps a fortunate thing for Rasputin that he was not in St. Petersburg when Germany attacked us so unexpectedly. It is quite probable that if he had found himself in the capital at the time he would have intrigued in so many ways that he might have put even the Sovereign in an embarrassing position, for any hesitations in the decisions of the Government would have been attributed to the influence of the “Prophet.” At this time of national crisis, it certainly would have been a misfortune if anything had occurred likely to endanger the prestige of the dynasty. But in regard to Rasputin himself, it is likely that his absence delayed the conspiracy which resulted in his death, as he was forgotten for the moment, so intensely was public opinion preoccupied with the grave events that were taking place.
Later on, after the disaster of Tannenberg, the friends of the “Prophet,” in order to win back for him some popularity, spread the rumour that he had from his distant Pokrovskoie written to one of his warmest patronesses, Madame W, that he had had a vision during which it had been revealed to him that the Russian armies were to march immediately upon eastern Prussia, where it would be possible to deal a decisive blow at the enemy, and to do so with all their strength. Now this is precisely what was not done, owing to the military misconception of the Russian General Staff, which for political reasons started to proceed to the conquest of Galicia, that could have been delayed with advantage until after the Prussian monster, if not killed, had been at least seriously injured.
The enemies of the Grand Duke Nicholas, of whom there were plenty, seized hold of this rumour, and rallied themselves round Rasputin, declaring that once more God had intervened in favour of Holy Russia, in blessing it with a prophet whose clear glance and visions could be relied upon far better than the strategical combinations of the Grand Duke that had proved such a complete failure. The Grand Duke was accused of having despatched two army corps into the Mazurian region without having taken sufficient precautions to insure their safety, and it was said that the only one who had seen clearly the disaster which had overtaken these corps had been Rasputin, and that it had been revealed to him direct from Heaven even before it had taken place.
All this was great nonsense, of course, but nevertheless it did a considerable amount of harm. One must not lose sight of one fact when one judges the whole history of the impostor who for so many years contrived to occupy with his personality the attention of the Russian public, and that is that his sermons and utterances appealed to that mystical side of the Slav character which in all hours of great national crises and misfortunes asserts itself a manner which to the Occidental mind seems quite incomprehensible. It is sufficient to have looked upon the crowds kneeling in the streets of St. Petersburg, and of Moscow, during those eventful August days which saw the breaking out of the catastrophe, to become persuaded of the fact that they reckoned more on God’s intervention on their behalf than on the efficacy of any guns or soldiers to insure a victory for the Russian arms.
Rasputin, for a short period, became once more a national hero, at least in the eyes of the select circle that had first brought him prominently before the public, and they began to say among this circle that until one followed his directions and gave oneself up entirely to the service of God in the manner it pleased him to recommend, the campaign that had just begun would never be won. For other people, too, the return of the “Prophet” to Petrograd, as St. Petersburg had been rechristened, was also a boon. All the speculators, army purveyors and persons interested in army contracts awaited him with an impatience which surpassed every description, and they surrounded him at once and laid siege, not so much to his person as to the influence which he was supposed to possess.
There are innumerable anecdotes about this agitated period in the career of Rasputin, each more amusing and each more incredible than the others. I shall here quote a few:
A Danish gentleman had arrived in Petrograd from Copenhagen with a load of medicines and different pharmaceutical products which he wanted to sell to the Red Cross. He brought excellent credentials with him, and he imagined that the business would be a relatively easy one. But to his surprise he found that this was not at all the case. Though the prices which he asked for his goods were not at all high compared with those current in the Russian capital, he could not get rid of them, and he was always put off until the next day. At last he became quite discouraged and was already thinking of returning home when he met in the lounge of the principal hotel of Petrograd (famed for the financial transactions which were regularly taking place under its roof) a Jew who, seeing him looking worried and annoyed, asked what was the matter. The Dane then related his story, adding that he failed to understand why at a time when the things which he had brought with him were in great demand he could not sell them, though he had lowered his prices to a point below which it was quite impossible for him to go. The Jew looked at him for some minutes, then asked him whether he would feel inclined, if he could help him to dispose of his wares at a profit, to give a large commission in exchange. The Dane of course assented, and the Jew took him the next day to Rasputin, to whom he told a long story of which the seller of the articles in question understood nothing at all, but which culminated in the “Prophet” scribbling something in pencil on a dirty scrap of paper, and handing it to his visitors. The same afternoon the two men went to the head offices of the Red Cross, accompanied by another gentleman, who introduced himself as Rasputin’s secretary. To the intense surprise of the Dane, the medicines which he had been trying uselessly to sell for three weeks were at once accepted on the producing of the “Prophet’s” note, and sold at such an enormous profit that he remained absolutely astounded. The contract was signed there and then, and a cheque handed to the happy seller. His two companions then accompanied him to the bank, where he handed over to them their share in the transaction, Rasputin’s representative taking the lion’s share of course, but whether for his master or for himself has never been ascertained.
Another example is still more typical. There existed in Petrograd a German who had lived there for years, and who had acquired considerable property, among other things several houses in Petrograd, bringing him a large income. Very soon after the breaking out of the war the properties belonging to the enemy were sequestrated, and German subjects sent away from the capital to live out the war in some northern government. The same fate overtook our friend. But he was a man of resources, and he immediately proceeded to pay a visit to Mr. Manassevitsch-Maniuloff. The latter was about the last man capable of allowing such a wonderful chance to escape him. How he managed he did not say, and the German never cared to learn, but he was allowed not only to remain in Petrograd, but also to sell his houses to a personage occupying such a very important administrative position that no one cared or dared to inquire of him whether he paid into the bank, as he ought to have done, the price of his acquisitions, or whether he gave it in the shape of a cheque on a foreign bank to the seller. And to crown the whole matter, the German in question was allowed to leave Russia with all due honours, and received the position of official buyer of different military goods for the Russian government in Scandinavia. He soon managed to indemnify himself to the full for the loss he had incurred in parting from his property for a mere song, and in paying the three hundred thousand rubles commission which Mr. Manassevitsch-Maniuloff and Rasputin had together obtained from him.
Such things were of daily occurrence, known to the general public, and of course commented upon in terms which were anything but favourable to the “Prophet.” The latter, however, did not mind and seemed absolutely convinced of immunity in regard to the different transactions in which he indulged and which increased in importance every day. He began to give his special attention to the interesting matter of army contracts, and there he found a very rich field to explore. All the different agents and intermediaries who constituted such a notable element in Petrograd crowded around him, offering him their services, or imploring his help in all kinds of shady business, out of which no one with the exception of Rasputin himself got a single penny. Thanks to him, bad cartridges were delivered to the army; rotten meat, or meat at a fabulous price, was sold for its wants, and not only sold once, but several times over. No matter how strange this last assertion may sound, it is absolutely true. If at the beginning of the war people were afraid to indulge in that kind of sport, they became adepts at it later on, and the only art which was practised in regard to it consisted in bribing an official not to put the Government stamp on the goods which were delivered to the Red Cross or to the Commissariat Department, an omission which allowed them to be returned to those who had already once disposed of them, and thus become the object of a new transaction, perhaps even more profitable than the first.
In regard to important matters, Rasputin did not disdain occasionally to play the spy. I remember a curious instance which during the first five or six weeks of the war greatly amused those who became aware of it. The whole incident is most characteristic of the business methods then in vogue in Russia, which are at present dying out fast, thanks to the co-operation of the English and French authorities with the Russians in all questions connected with army contracts.
When war was declared the military administration proceeded to requisition numerous things which it required in the way of war material. Among others were sand bags for the trenches. Now there happened to be a Jew in Petrograd who had about 50,000 of them. He did not care to declare them as he ought to have done, knowing very well that he was not in a position to obtain from the Commissariat Department the price which he wanted. He therefore sold them to another Jew, who gave him a certain sum on account, stipulating that he would take the delivery of the goods in the course of the next week or so. But in the meanwhile prices went down, and the unlucky buyer found that he had indeed made about as bad a bargain as possible. While he was thus lamenting his bad luck, he happened to meet one of the secretaries of Rasputin to whom he related his misfortune.
“Is this troubling you?” exclaimed the latter. “This is nothing, and we shall soon set it all right.” He took him to the “Prophet,” where the trio came to the following arrangement: The Jew was to go forthwith to the Commissariat Department and declare that he had so many thousand sand bags to sell. Rasputin was to speak in his favour and to do his best to obtain the highest prices possible. Rasputin’s secretary proceeded then to denounce the first Jew, who was the real owner of the bags, as having neglected to declare their existence. Immediately a requisition was made in the latter’s store, where the bags of course were found. Then the Jew who had given an account of them interfered, and said that they were his property, and that he had fulfilled all the formalities required by the law in regard to them. He forthwith proceeded to take possession of the bags, laughing in the face of their real owner whom he defied to claim the balance still due to him, well knowing that the unfortunate victim could do nothing, because if he had tried to complain he would inevitably have been condemned to pay a heavy fine and to be imprisoned.
Then again there was a story of railway trucks in which the “Prophet” also was mixed up in some unaccountable way. Some Jews, protected no one knows to this day by whom or in what way, had obtained some contracts from the Government for different goods which were to be delivered to the army, together with the necessary numbers of railway trucks to carry them to the front. They immediately proceeded to sell these contracts at a fair price, though not an exaggerated one, to other people, but with the clause that these other people were to take upon themselves the care of forwarding the goods to their destination. And they kept for their own use and benefit the trucks which had been allotted to them, hiring them afterward to whoever wanted to have them for as much money as they could get. One Jew, a certain Mr. Bernstein, thus obtained control over more than 500 trucks, out of which he drew during six months an income amounting to something like 250,000 rubles a month. And this occurred while everybody was complaining of the impossibility of forwarding anything anywhere, owing to the total lack of railway material. It is related that in this little business, too, Rasputin was mixed up, and that without him the military contracts which the heroes of the anecdote I have just related obtained would never have been granted.
These stories, scandalous though they were, are well known. There were others of which it is hardly possible to speak in a language fit for a drawing room. Such, for instance, is the sad case of a young girl, the daughter of a rich merchant in Moscow, who travelled all the way to Petrograd, to see the “Prophet” and implore his prayers for her fiancé who was at the front. Rasputin received her, and forthwith proceeded to tell her that the young man for whom she felt so anxious was doomed and could be saved only if she consented to unite herself with him, Rasputin, and to be cleansed by him of all her sins. The poor child, frightened out of her wits and fascinated by the terror which the dreadful creature inspired in his victims, allowed him to do what he liked with her. But she afterward became mad, on hearing that in spite of her sacrifices her lover had fallen at Tannenburg, during the terrible battle which took place in that locality.
All these things were whispered from ear to ear with horror and disgust, but they did not harm in the least the impostor who was pursuing his career of wickedness, deceit and crime. As time went on, he got more and more insolent, more and more overbearing, so that at last even some of his former protectors found that he was going rather too far, and he was no longer received at Tsarskoie Selo with the same kindness that had been shown to him previously.
He did not care for this, nor did those with whom he was working care either. They were all unscrupulous, daring people, determined to make hay while the sun was shining, and careless as to what others might think of them. Count Witte, who saw further and understood better than most of the public the hopeless muddle into which the administration had fallen, felt sure that sooner or later the country would demand an explanation for the many mistakes and errors which had been committed, and that a change in the Government was bound to take place. He fully meant this change to affect his own prospects in so far that it would put him again at the head of affairs, and he was helping Rasputin as hard and as well as he could to discredit the Cabinet then in power, and to show it up as being thoroughly incapable of managing the country at this moment of grave crisis.
It was about that time that the Massayedoff incident took place, about which such a lot has been written, and which deserves a passing mention in this record. Massayedoff was a colonel who had already given some reasons to be talked about for misdeeds of a more or less grave nature. General Rennenkampf, when he had received the command of the Kovno Army Corps, had energetically protested against his appointment on his staff, but headquarters ignored his representations and maintained the colonel in his functions.
After the disaster of Tannenberg and the loss of two Russian army corps in the swamps of the Mazurian region, it was discovered that some spying of a grave nature had been going on and that the principal spy was Colonel Massayedoff, who had kept the enemy informed of the movements of the Russian troops. He was tried and condemned to death, which sentence was duly executed. Together with him several individuals compromised in the same affair, mostly Jews connected with questions of army purveyance, were also hanged. Among these last was a man called Friedmann, who had been one of the parasites who were perpetually crowding around Rasputin. The latter, however, when asked to interfere in his favour had refused to do so, but whether this was due to the desire to get rid of a compromising accomplice or the dread of being mixed up himself in a dangerous story, it is difficult to say or to guess. But others talked, if the “Prophet” himself remained silent, and soon it began to be whispered that he was also, if not exactly a German agent, at least a partisan of a separate peace with Germany.
There certainly exist indications that such was the case. In spite of the strong character upon which Rasputin prided himself, it is hardly possible that he could have escaped the influence of the people who were constantly hanging about him, and who were all partial to Germany. This was due to the fact that they hoped, if the latter Power triumphed and vanquished the Russians, to obtain from the German Government substantial rewards for their fidelity, in the shape of some kind of army contracts, for the time that the Prussian troops remained in occupation of some Russian provinces. It is quite remarkable that while the nation in general was all for the continuation of the war, and would have considered it a shame to listen to peace proposals without consent of its Allies, commercial and industrial people were always talking about peace to whomever would listen. And Rasputin had now more to do with that class of individuals than with the nation.
It was at that time that he suddenly imagined himself to be endowed with perspicacity in regard to military matters, and that he attempted to criticise the operations at the front, and especially the leadership of the Grand Duke Nicholas, whom he hated with all the ferocity for which his character had become famous. He was known to be absolutely without any mercy for those whom he disliked. He disliked none more than the Grand Duke, who had, on one occasion when the “Prophet” had tried to discuss with him the conduct of the campaign and even volunteered to arrive at headquarters, declared that if he ever ventured to put in an appearance there he would have him hanged immediately from the first tree he could find. Rasputin was prudent, and moreover he knew that Nicolas Nicolaievitsch was a man who always kept his word, so he thought it wise to leave a wide berth between him and the irascible commander-in-chief. But he applied himself with considerable perseverance to undermine the position of the latter, and especially to render him unpopular among the people, accusing him openly of mismanagement in regard to military matters and of want of foresight in his strategical dispositions.
In the beginning this did not succeed, partly because the staff did not allow any news of importance to leak out from the front and partly because the country believed so firmly in a victory over the Prussians that it was very hard to shake its confidence in the Grand Duke’s abilities. The early successes of the first Galician campaign had strengthened this confidence, and no one in Petrograd during the first months of the year 1915 ever gave a thought to the possibility of our troops being compelled to retreat before the enemy, and no one foresaw the fall of Warsaw and of the other fortresses on the western frontier. Rasputin, however, knew more than the public at large. He had his spies everywhere, who faithfully reported to him everything that was occurring in the army. He was well aware that the army was suffering from an almost complete lack of ammunition, and that it would never be able to hold against any offensive combined with artillery attacks on the part of the enemy. This knowledge, which he carefully refrained from sharing with any one, enabled him to indulge in prophesies of a more or less tragic nature, the sense of which was that God was punishing Russia for its sins, and that with an unbeliever like the commander-in-chief at the head of its armies it was surely marching towards a defeat which would be sent by God as a warning never to forget the paths of Providence, and never to disdain the advice of the one prophet that He had sent in His mercy to save Russia from all the calamities which were threatening her.
He used to speak in that way everywhere and to everybody, even at Tsarskoie Selo, not to the Emperor and Empress, of course, but to all those persons surrounding them who were favourably inclined toward himself and likely to spread abroad the prophecies which he kept pouring into their ears.
But, in spite of all this, he was not quite so successful as he had hoped, because owing to the ignorance which prevailed as to the real state of things in the army, few people believed him, and fewer still would own that they did so. Once more Rasputin’s star was beginning to wane, and even the Empress began to think him very wearisome with his perpetual forebodings concerning misfortunes which seemed to be far away from the limits of possibility.
Then suddenly things changed. Mackensen began his march forward, and the Grand Duke, with his heart full of rage and despair, was compelled, owing to the mistakes, the negligence and the crimes of others, to make the best out of a very bad job, and to try at least to save the army confided to his care. Even if he had to sacrifice towns and fortresses, he had declared he would never, and under no conditions whatever, surrender to the enemy. The great retreat began, and proved to be one of the most glorious pages in the history of Russian warfare, a deed the gallantry of which will live in the military annals of the world as almost as grand a one as the famous retreat of Xenophon and his 10,000 warriors. Russia appreciated its importance; the world admired it; the Czar, though he may have shed bitter tears over its necessity, felt grateful for the talent which was displayed in such a terrible emergency; but people in Petrograd began looking for those upon whom they could fix the responsibility for this awful disappointment which had overtaken them. This was the moment for which Rasputin had been waiting with the patience of the serpent watching for its prey, and of which he hastened to make use with the infernal cunning he usually displayed in all the evil deeds with which he was familiar.
The secret police agents, who were working with him, and thanks to whom he had been enabled to make the enormous profits that had added so many millions to his fortune since the war had started, began to spread the rumour that the Grand Duke was plotting against the Czar, and wanted to usurp the latter’s throne and crown, out of fear of being called upon to render an account of his activity during the nine months of the campaign. Though it was quite evident that the responsibility for the lamentable want of organisation which had culminated in the momentary defeat of the Russian troops lay upon the War Office and the Artillery and Commissariat Departments, and though the War Minister, General Soukhomlinoff, had been dismissed in disgrace before being sent to the fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul to await there his trial; though strenuous efforts had been made to punish those to whose carelessness this mass of misfortunes had been due, yet Rasputin and his friends applied themselves to the task of representing the Grand Duke as being more guilty than any one else, and of having on purpose kept secret the real state of things, out of fear that he would be called upon, if he revealed the truth, to surrender his command. There was not one word of truth in these accusations, because Nicholas Nicholaievitsch had, on the contrary, worked harder than any one to repair the blunders of others, and had never shared the blind confidence in victory which so many people who knew nothing about the real condition of affairs professed to nurse. He had done all that it was humanly possible to do, in order to save a situation which had been doomed from the first day that it had begun to develop. If he had failed, this had been in no way his fault, but that of circumstances and of fate which had proved too strong for him.
The public, however, thought differently, and Rasputin’s numerous supporters helped it to come to the conclusion that the Grand Duke ought to be deprived of his command by some means or other. This, however, was not such an easy thing to do, because the Emperor had a sincere esteem and respect for his uncle, and understood better than all those who criticised the latter the extent of the difficulties against which he had had to fight. He refused to listen to those who tried to shake his confidence in the commander-in-chief. He might have gone on for a long time doing so had not Rasputin succeeded in winning over to his point of view several high ecclesiastical dignitaries, who took it upon themselves to speak to the Sovereign of the desire and wishes of the nation to see him assume himself the supreme command over his armies. They assured him that it was quite certain that the armies would fight ever so much better under the personal leadership of their Czar than under any other commander-in-chief, no matter how high might be his military reputation, or how elevated might be his rank. This was quite a new point of view, and Nicholas II. had to examine it with attention, the more so as the Empress, too, had been won over to the idea, and was pressing him to give to his subjects this satisfaction for which they craved.
The military situation was then recognised, even by the most optimistically inclined people, to be very serious, and it was generally felt that something had to be done to excite the enthusiasm of the troops, which had lately begun to wane. The assumption by the Czar of the supreme command seemed to present itself almost in the light of an absolute necessity. Perhaps from some points of view Rasputin was not so very wrong to urge it, as it most certainly produced a salutary effect on the whole situation. But it is to be doubted whether the “Prophet” had ever looked at it in that light. It is far more likely that his only aim had been the displacing of the Grand Duke Nicholas, who had begun to look too closely into all that was going on around Rasputin, and to watch the different intrigues in which the latter was taking part with an attention that did not promise anything good for him, or for the further development of his career as an adventurer.
When the Grand Duke had been appointed Viceroy of the Caucasus, and had left for his new residence, Rasputin breathed freely once more. For one thing, this incident had given him a greater confidence in his own strength than he had even possessed before. Now that he had been able to remove the commander-in-chief of the Russian armies from his post, it seemed to him that it would be a relatively easy thing to push forward, and to appoint to the most important functions in the State people indoctrinated with his view and ready to help him in keeping undisturbed and unchallenged the position into which he had glided so naturally, and as now appeared to him, so simply—a position which he was absolutely determined not to lose. With a Prime Minister at his command, he would become the real master of Russia, and the Czar himself would be compelled to take him into account, a thing which up to then he had refused to do, much to the distress of the “Prophet.” Though he repeated everywhere, and to whomsoever wished to listen to him, that he could do all he liked at Tsarskoie Selo, he knew very well in his inmost heart that such was not the case, and that in the Imperial Palace Rasputin was nothing but Rasputin, an ignorant peasant, endowed sometimes with gifts of second sight and always with religious fervour, but a peasant all the same, with whom one might pray, but whom one would never dream of appointing to any responsible position.
The knowledge that such was the case, and that his so-called influence existed mostly in the imagination of the people who spoke about it, worried Rasputin. Though he dictated to ministers his will, though he decided together with them more than one important matter, yet he felt that there was a flaw in the edifice of his fortune, and that this flaw consisted in the fact that the Sovereign did not share the feeling of reverence with which the Russian nation, as the “Prophet” flattered himself was the case, experienced for his person and for his teachings. This was what tormented him, and he spent the whole time thinking how it might become possible to put in the place of Mr. Goremykine another Prime Minister more ready to enter into his views, and to follow his advice in regard to matters of state. This the then President of Council, in spite of his deference for Rasputin, had refused to do, preferring to discuss the affairs of the Government alone with the Emperor, without any interference of the former.
Rasputin spoke of his wishes to some of his confidants, and even mentioned the subject to several of the high-born ladies who formed the great bulk of his “clientele.” These entered into his views with alacrity, the more so as he developed them in a pathetic tone, which appealed to their feelings of “patriotism.” They would have given much to be able to help him, but they did not very well know how this was to be done. This was due to the sad fact that there seemed to be no one available. The unexpected and sudden death of Count Witte, which had occurred in the meanwhile, removed the only person whom they could suggest as a candidate for the functions of Prime Minister. All those whose names might have been mentioned as fit individuals for the post, such as Mr. Krivoscheine for instance, were people who would, with a greater energy even than Mr. Goremykine had ever displayed, oppose any interference of Rasputin into the conduct of the Government. Their perplexity might have lasted a long time if Providence, in the shape of Mr. Manassevitsch-Maniuloff, had not interfered in their favour, and had the latter not suggested the advisability of entering into negotiations with Mr. Sturmer.