Nicholas and Alexandra: The Classic Account of the Fall of the Romanov Dynasty

by Robert K. Massie

  Although her informal mandate from Nicholas was only to oversee internal affairs, Alexandra also began to trespass on the area of military operations. “Sweet Angel,” she wrote in November 1915, “long to ask you heaps about your plans concerning Rumania. Our Friend is so anxious to know.” That same month: “Our Friend was afraid that, if we had not a big army to pass through Rumania, we might be caught in a trap from behind.”

  With supreme self-confidence, Rasputin soon passed from asking questions about the army to transmitting instructions as to the timing and location of Russian attacks. His inspiration, he told the Empress, had come to him in dreams while he slept: “Now before I forget, I must give you a message from our Friend prompted by what he saw in the night,” she wrote in November 1915. “He begs you to order that one should advance near Riga, says it is necessary, otherwise the Germans will settle down so firmly through all the winter that it will cost endless bloodshed and trouble to make them move … he says this is just now the most essential thing and begs you seriously to order ours to advance, he says we can and we must, and I was to write to you at once.”

  In June 1916: “Our Friend sends his blessing to the whole orthodox army. He begs we should not yet strongly advance in the north because he says if our successes continue being good in the south, they will themselves retreat in the north, or advance and then their losses will be very great—if we begin there, our losses will be very heavy. He says this is … [his] advice.”

  At Headquarters, General Alexeiev was less than charmed to hear of this new interest in the army. “I told Alexeiev how interested you were in military affairs and of those details you asked for in your last letter,” Nicholas wrote on June 7, 1916 (O.S.). “He [Alexeiev] smiled and listened silently.” Alexeiev’s silence concealed his worry over the possible leakage of his plans. After the abdication, he explained, “When the Empress’s papers were examined, she was found to be in possession of a map indicating in detail the disposition of the troops along the entire front. Only two copies were prepared of this map, one for the Emperor and one for myself. I was very painfully impressed. God knows who may have made use of this map.”

  Although the Tsar thought it quite natural to admit his wife to military secrets, he did not want them passed to Rasputin. Repeatedly, after giving her a number of military details, he would write, “I beg you, my love, do not communicate these details to anyone. I have written them only for you.… I beg you, keep it to yourself, not a single soul must know of it.” Almost as frequently, Alexandra ignored her husband’s request and told Rasputin. “He won’t mention it to a soul,” she assured Nicholas, “but I had to ask his blessing for your decision.”

  Rasputin’s intervention in military affairs appeared most conspicuously during the great Russian offensive of 1916. Following Polivanov’s miracles in supply and manpower, wrought during the winter of 1915–1916, the Russian army erupted in June 1916 with a heavy attack on the Austrians in Galicia. The Austrian line sagged and broke. Brusilov, the Russian commander, inflicted a million casualties, took 400,000 prisoners, pulled 18 German divisions away from Verdun and prevented the Austrians from exploiting their great victory over the Italians at Caporetto. In August, Rumania, sensing an Allied victory, entered the war against Germany and Austria.

  Yet, all this was done at heavy cost to Russia. Through the summer, as Brusilov ground forward, Russian losses reached 1,200,000. As the army moved forward, leaving behind a carpet of dead, it seemed to the Empress and to Rasputin that Russia was choking in her own blood. As early as July 25 (O.S.), she wrote: “Our Friend … finds better one should not advance too obstinately as the losses will be too great.” On August 8 (O.S.): “Our Friend hopes we won’t climb over the Carpathians and try to take them, as he repeats the losses will be too great again.” On September 21 (O.S.), Nicholas wrote: “I told Alexeiev to order Brusilov to stop our hopeless attacks.” Alexandra replied happily, “Our Friend says about the new orders you gave to Brusilov: ‘Very satisfied with Father’s [the Tsar’s] orders, all will be well.’ ”

  Meanwhile, at Stavka, Alexeiev had discussed the operation with the Tsar, and even as the Empress was congratulating herself, Nicholas was writing: “Alexeiev has asked permission to continue the attack … and I have permitted it.” Surprised, Alexandra responded: “Our Friend is much put out that Brusilov has not listened to your order to stop the advance—says you were inspired from above to give that order … and God would bless it. Now he says again useless losses.” On the 24th (O.S.), Nicholas wrote, “I have only just received your telegram in which you inform me that our Friend is very disturbed about my plan not being carried out.” Carefully, he explained that an additional army had been massed which “doubles our forces … and gives hope for the possibility of success. That is why … I gave my consent.” He added that the decision, “from a military point of view is quite correct,” and implored, “these details are for you only—I beg you, my dear. Tell him [Rasputin] only ‘Papa has ordered that sensible measures be taken.’ ”

  But the Empress was now in full cry. On the 25th (O.S.), she wrote: “Oh give your order again to Brusilov—stop this useless slaughter.… Why repeat the madness of the Germans at Verdun. Your plan, so wise [was] approved by our Friend.… Stick to it.… Our generals don’t count the lives any—hardened to losses—and that is sin.” On September 27 (O.S.), two days later, Nicholas finally gave in: “My dear, Brusilov has, on the receipt of my instructions, immediately given order to stop.” As a result, Brusilov’s great offensive ground to a halt. After the war, General Vladimir Gurko, who participated in the operation, wrote, “The weariness of the troops had its effect … but there can be no question that the stoppage of the advance was premature and founded on orders from Headquarters.” The hard-bitten Brusilov responded impatiently, “An offensive without casualties may be staged only during maneuvers; no action at the present time is taken at random and the enemy suffer as heavy losses as we do … but to defeat the enemy or to beat him off, we must suffer losses and they may be considerable.”

  By October 1916, with Stürmer and Protopopov occupying the key ministries of the Russian government, the Empress had apparently achieved what she had set out a year before to do. The ministers who signed the collective letter were gone; those in power fawned on Rasputin. “Stürmer and Protopopov both completely believe in our Friend’s wonderful, God-sent wisdom,” she wrote happily.

  In fact, the entire arrangement—and with it, all Russia—was beginning to disintegrate. A new governmental scandal loomed up when Manuilov, Stürmer’s private secretary, was arrested for blackmailing a bank. Two episodes put the army’s loyalty in question. In Marseilles, a Russian brigade on its way from Archangel to fight in Greece suddenly mutinied and killed its colonel. French troops intervened and twenty Russian soldiers were executed. Far more serious, two infantry regiments in Petrograd, called out in October to disperse a crowd of striking workers, turned instead and fired on the police. Only when four regiments of Cossacks charged and drove the infantry back to their barracks at lance point was the mutiny subdued. This time, 150 soldiers went to the firing squad.

  Worst of all was the growing economic breakdown. Nicholas, more perceptive than the Empress, had seen this coming for months. “Stürmer … is an excellent, honest man,” he wrote in June, “only, it seems to me, he cannot make up his mind to do what is necessary. The gravest and most urgent question just now is the question of fuels and metals—iron and copper for munitions—because with the shortage of metals, the factories cannot produce a sufficient quantity of cartridges and shells. It is the same with the railways.… These affairs are a regular curse.… But it is imperative to act energetically.” In August, he confessed that the load was becoming unbearable. “At times when I turn over in my mind the names of one person and another for appointments, and think how things will go, it seems that my head will burst. The greatest problem now is the question of supplies.…” In September, as Alexandra was urging the appoi
ntment of Protopopov: “And whom am I to begin with? All these changes make my head go round. In my opinion, they are too frequent. In any case, they are not good for the internal situation of the country, as each new man brings with him alterations in the administration.” In November: “The eternal question of supplies troubles me most of all … prices are soaring and the people are beginning to starve. It is obvious where this situation may lead the country. Old Stürmer cannot overcome these difficulties.… It is the most damnable problem I have ever come across.”

  Early in November, Nicholas, with Alexis, went to Kiev to inspect hospitals and to visit his mother, who was living away from Petrograd. On this visit, everyone noticed the change that had come over the Tsar. “I was shocked to see … Nicky so pale, thin and tired,” wrote his sister Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna, who was with her mother in Kiev. “My mother was worried about his excessive quiet.” Gilliard saw the same thing: “He had never seemed to me so worried before. He was usually very self-controlled, but on this occasion he showed himself nervous and irritable, and once or twice he spoke roughly to Alexis Nicolaievich.”

  Under the pressure of his dual role as Tsar and Commander-in-Chief, Nicholas’s health and morale were beginning to suffer. Old friends such as Prince Vladimir Orlov had gone, driven away by their disapproval of Rasputin. Even old Count Fredericks managed to remain near the Tsar only by talking about the weather and other inconsequentia. In Kiev, Nicholas had thought to relax from the problems of war and government. Instead, in their first conversation Marie demanded that he dismiss Stürmer and push Rasputin away from the throne.

  Although bowed by the cares of his office, Nicholas in Kiev made a graceful Imperial gesture. In the ward of the hospital where his sister worked, “we had a young, wounded deserter, court-martialed and condemned to death,” she wrote. “Two soldiers were guarding him. All of us felt very troubled about him—he looked such a decent boy. The doctor spoke of him to Nicky who at once made for that corner of the ward. I followed him, and I could see the young man was petrified with fear. Nicky put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and asked very quietly why he had deserted. The young man stammered that, having run out of ammunition, he had got frightened, turned and ran. We all waited, our breath held, and Nicky told him that he was free. The next moment the lad scrambled out of bed, fell on the floor, his arms around Nicky’s knees, and sobbed like a child. I believe all of us were in tears.… I have cherished the memory all down the years. I never saw Nicky again.”

  While the Tsar was in Kiev, the Duma met and the storm began to break. Party lines no longer mattered: from extreme Right to revolutionary Left, every party opposed the government. Miliukov, the leader of the liberals, made a direct attack on Stürmer and Rasputin, and indirectly attacked the Empress. Stürmer he accused outright of being a German agent. One by one, as he ticked off his charges of inefficiency and corruption against the government, he asked after each accusation, “Is this stupidity or is it treason?” Miliukov was followed by Basil Maklakov, a Right-wing liberal, who declared, “The old regime and the interests of Russia have now parted company.” Quoting from Pushkin, he shouted, “Woe to that country where only the slave and the liar are close to the throne.”

  By the time Nicholas had returned from Kiev to Headquarters, the outrage in the Duma could no longer be ignored. With his mother’s pleas ringing in his ears, the Tsar decided to dismiss Stürmer. The Empress was not entirely opposed, but she suggested a holiday rather than dismissal: “Protopopov … [and] our Friend both find for the quiet of the Duma, Stürmer ought to say he is ill and go for a rest for 3 weeks. It’s true … he is really quite unwell and broken by those vile assaults—and being the red flag for that madhouse, it’s better he should disappear a bit.”

  Nicholas quickly agreed, and on November 8 (O.S.), he wrote, “All these days I have been thinking of old Stürmer. He, as you say rightly, acts as a red flag, not only to the Duma, but to the whole country, alas. I hear this from all sides; nobody believes in him and everyone is angry because we stand up for him. It is much worse than with Goremykin last year. I reproach him for his excessive prudence and his incapacity for taking on himself the responsibility of making them all work as they should. He is coming here tomorrow. I will give him leave for the present.… As to the future, we shall see; we will talk it over when you come here.”

  Rasputin’s suggestion was that Stürmer give up one of his offices, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, to appease the Duma, but not both: “Our Friend says Stürmer can remain still some time as President of Council of Ministers,” Alexandra reminded. But Nicholas, this time, had made up his mind. “I am receiving Stürmer in an hour,” he wrote on November 9 (O.S.), “and shall insist on his taking leave. Alas, I am afraid he will have to go altogether [i.e., give up the presidency of the Council of Ministers as well as the Ministry of Foreign Affairs]—nobody has confidence in him. I remember even Buchanan telling me at our last meeting the English consuls in their reports predict serious disturbances if he remains. And every day I hear more and more about it.”

  The Empress was surprised at the Tsar’s decision. “It gave me a painful shock you also take away from him the Council of Ministers. I had a big lump in my throat—such a devoted, honest, sure man.… I regret because he likes our Friend and was so right in that way. Trepov [the new Premier], I personally do not like and can never have the same feeling for him as to old Goremykin and Stürmer—they were of the good old sort … those two loved me and came for every question that worried them, so as not to disturb you—this one [Trepov] I, alas, doubt caring for me and if he does not trust me and our Friend, things will be difficult. I too told Stürmer to tell him how to behave about Gregory and to safeguard him always.”

  But Alexander Trepov, the new Prime Minister, already had decided how he would behave about Gregory. A former Minister of Communications, builder of the newly completed Murmansk railroad, Trepov was at once a conservative monarchist and a stern enemy of Rasputin. He was determined to purge the government of Rasputin’s influence. As a first important step, he meant to evict Protopopov, Rasputin’s instrument. On accepting appointment to the premiership, he had won the Tsar’s promise that Protopopov would be dismissed. “I am sorry for Protopopov,” Nicholas wrote Alexandra, explaining his decision. “He is a good, honest man, but he jumps from one idea to another, and cannot make up his mind on anything. I noticed that from the beginning. They say that a few years ago he was not quite normal after a certain illness.… It is risky to leave the Ministry of Interior in such hands in these times.” Then, anticipating her reaction, he added significantly, “Only I beg, do not drag Our Friend into this. The responsibility is with me, and therefore I wish to be free in my choice.”

  On hearing that both Stürmer and Protopopov were to be eliminated, Alexandra became desperate: “Forgive me, dear, believe me—I entreat you don’t go and change Protopopov now, he will be alright, give him the chance to get the food supply into his hands and, I assure you, all will go [well].… Oh, Lovy, you can trust me. I may not be clever enough—but I have a strong feeling and that helps more than the brain often. Don’t change anybody until we meet, I entreat you, let’s speak it over quietly together.…”

  The next day, Alexandra’s letter rose in pitch: “Lovy, my angel … don’t change Protopopov. I had a long talk with him yesterday—the man is as sane as anyone … he is quiet and calm and utterly devoted which one can, alas, say of but few and he will succeed—already things are going better.… Change nobody now, otherwise the Duma will think it’s their doing and that they have succeeded in clearing everybody out.… Darling, remember that it does not lie in the man Protopopov or x.y.z. but it’s the question of monarchy and your prestige now, which must not be shattered in the time of the Duma. Don’t think they will stop at him, but will make all others leave who are devoted to you one by one—and then ourselves. Remember … the Tsar rules and not the Duma. Forgive my again writing but I am fighting for your reign and Bab
y’s future.”

  Two days later, the Empress arrived at Headquarters on a visit already planned. Together, in the privacy of their room, they wrestled out the problem of Protopopov; the Empress won—and Protopopov remained in office. Nevertheless, the trial of strength was not easy for either of them. In Nicholas’s letter bidding farewell to the Empress at the end of her visit, there is evidence of the tension. It is, in fact, the only evidence in the whole of their correspondence of a serious personal quarrel. “Yes,” wrote the Tsar, “those days spent together were difficult, but only thanks to you have I spent them more or less calmly. You were so strong and steadfast—I admire you more than I can say. Forgive me if I was moody or unrestrained—sometime’s one’s temper must come out!… now I firmly believe that the most painful is behind us and that it will not be hard as it was before. And henceforth I intend to become sharp and bitter.… Sleep sweetly and calmly.”

  Alexandra, sending her husband back to the front, could not help being pleased with her great triumph. Over the following days, a torrent of exhortation poured from her pen: “I am fully convinced that great and beautiful times are coming for your reign and Russia … we must give a strong country to Baby, and dare not be weak for his sake, else he will have a yet harder reign, setting our faults right and drawing the reins in tightly which you let loose. You have to suffer for faults in the reigns of your predecessors and God knows what hardships are yours. Let our legacy be a lighter one for Alexei. He has a strong will and mind of his own, don’t let things slip through your fingers and make him build all over again. Be firm … one wants to feel your hand—how long, years, people have told me the same ‘Russia loves to feel the whip’—it’s their nature—tender love and then the iron hand to punish and guide. How I wish I could pour my will into your veins.… Be Peter the Great, Ivan the Terrible, Emperor Paul—crush them all under you—now don’t you laugh, naughty one.”