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Originally published in 1923 - translated from the French by F. A. Holt, O.B.E.
Main Menu - Table of Contents
Volume 1:
I. JULY 20-23, 1914 | II. JULY 24-AUGUST 2, 1914 | III.AUGUST 3-17, 1914 | IV. AUGUST 18-SEPTEMBER 11, 1914 | V. SEPTEMBER 12-OCTOBER 28, 1914 | VI. OCTOBER 29-NOVEMBER 30, 1914 | VII. DECEMBER 1-31, 1914 | VIII. JANUARY 1-FEBRUARY 13, 1915 | IX. FEBRUARY 14-MARCH 31, 1915 | X. APRIL 1-JUNE 2, 1915
Volume 2:
I. JUNE 3-AUGUST 24, 1915 | II. AUGUST 25-SEPTEMBER 20, 1915 | III.SEPTEMBER 21-NOVEMBER 8, 1915 | IV. NOVEMBER 9-DECEMBER 31, 1915 | V. JANUARY 1-26, 1916 | VI. JANUARY 27-FEBRUARY 24, 1916 | VII. FEBRUARY 25-MARCH 22, 1916 | VIII. MARCH 23-MAY 3, 1916 | IX. MAY 4-JUNE 15, 1916 | X. JUNE 16-JULY 18, 1916 | XI. JULY 19-AUGUST 18, 1916
Volume 3
I. AUGUST 19-SEPTEMBER 18, 1916 | II. SEPTEMBER 19-OCTOBER 25, 1916 | III. OCTOBER 27-NOVEMBER 22, 1916 | IV. NOVEMBER 23-DECEMBER 24, 1916 | V. DECEMBER 25, 1916-JANUARY 8, 1917 | VI. JANUARY 9-28, 1917 | VII. JANUARY 29-FEBRUARY 21, 1917 | VIII. FEBRUARY 22-MARCH 11, 1917 | IX. MARCH 12-22, 1917 | X. MARCH 23-APRIL 6, 1917 | XI. APRIL 7-21, 1917 | XII. APRIL 22-MAY 6, 1917 | XIII. MAY 7-17, 1917
Volume I
CHAPTER IX
FEBRUARY 14-MARCH 31, 1915
Precipitate retreat of the
Russians in East Prussia. - The Grand Duke Nicholas and Rasputin. - Catherine
II and the Jewish question. - Suspicious attitude of Bulgaria. - The
Duc de Guise's mission to Sophia. - My meeting with Rasputin.
His extraordinary conversation: "For more than twenty years
we shall harvest nothing but sorrow on Russian soil." - An
Anglo-French fleet tries to force the Dardanelles. - Russia claims
Constantinople officially. - General Pau's mission; I present
him to the Emperor, who declares his intention of annexing Constantinople. - The
Persian agreement between England and Russia. - Lieutenant-Colonel
Miassoyedov's treachery; the traitor's antecedents; his conviction. - I
visit General Headquarters at Baranovici to confer with the Emperor.
- France's rights in Syria and Palestine. - The Russian armies
prepare a general offensive in the direction of the Oder. - The
Grand Duke Nicholas's alarming remarks. - Russian music and the
Russian soul. Khovantchina; the "Red Death."
The susceptibility of the masses to emotional outbursts. - An
Austrian peace-feeler; the aberrations of French policy. - The
Jews of Poland and Lithuania.
Sunday, February 14, 1915.
From the Tilsit region on the Lower Niemen to Plotzk on the
Vistula the Russian army is on the retreat on a front of 450 kilometres.
It has lost its entrenchments on the Angerapp and all the defiles
between the Masurian Lakes which are so favourable for defence:
it is retiring hastily on Kovno, Grodno, Osowiec, and the Narev.
This series of reverses gives Rasputin his chance of gratifying
his implacable hatred of the Grand Duke Nicholas.
In his early days in St. Petersburg in 1906 the staretz
had no warmer patrons than the Grand Dukes Nicholas and Peter
Nicolaevitch and their Montenegrin wives, the Grand Duchesses
Anastasia and Militza. But one fine day the Grand Duke Nicholas
realized his mistake, and as a man of courage did his best to
repair it. He begged and prayed the Emperor to send the infamous
moujik away; he returned to the charge several times, but
nothing came of it. Rasputin has been hatching his revenge ever
since.
So I am not surprised to hear that he is always railing against
the Generalissimo to the sovereigns. With his usual flair he has
at once discovered the arguments to which they are most susceptible.
On the one hand he is accusing the Grand Duke of resorting to
all sorts of hypocritical methods of winning popularity with the
soldiery and creating a political following in the army. On the
other, he is always saying: "Nikolatcha can never succeed
in any of his operations because God will never bless them. How
could God possibly bless the actions of a man who has betrayed
me, the Bojy tchelloviek, the 'Man of God'!"
Monday, February 15, 1915.
I have been discussing Poland with Count R - -, who is a raving
Nationalist.
"You must admit," I said, "that the Poles have
some ground for not loving Russia."
"That's true enough; we've sometimes been pretty hard
on Poland. But Poland has fairly paid us back."
"In what way?"
"By giving us the Jews."
It is perfectly true that there was no Jewish question in Russia
before the partitions of Poland.
Before that epoch the only policy pursued by Tsarism towards
the Jews was to deport or kill them off. These summary methods
had to be dropped when the fate of the great Israelite communities
in the annexed territories had to be determined. They were assigned
a zone of residence on the western borders of the Empire and subjected
to certain police regulations which were not unduly vexatious.
But during the preparations for the second partition Catherine
II suddenly introduced the regime of penalties and servitude from
which they are not yet freed. By a ukase dated December
23, 1791, she restricted their residential zone; she forbade them
to take part in agriculture; she confined them to the towns and
their ghettoes, and she enunciated the abominable doctrine - which
prevails even to-day - that anything which is not expressly permitted
is forbidden to a Jew.
This exhibition of despotism and iniquity might seem surprising
in the philosopher-Empress who was the friend of Voltaire, d'Alembert,
and Diderot, and the sovereign who claimed to draw her political
inspiration from the Esprit des Lois. But there
was a potent, though indirect, grievance which was responsible
for her anger with the Jews; she loathed the Revolution, expended
all her hatred and invective on it, and regarded it as a terrible
menace to all thrones and a criminal and diabolical affair. On
September 27, 1791, the Constituent Assembly had emancipated the
Jews and granted them equal civil rights. Catherine II replied
with her ukase of December 23, the evil effect of which
was intensified by subsequent measures.
Thus by an ironical repercussion of fate the generous initiative
of the French Revolution opened an era of persecutions at the
other end of Europe, persecutions which were destined to be as
prolonged and grievous as any Israel has known through the ages.
Tuesday, February 16, 1915.
The 9th Army is having great difficulty in extricating itself
from the forest region which stretches cast of Augustovo and Suvalki.
At Kolno, on the Lomza road further south, one of its columns
has been surrounded and destroyed. The communiqués of the
Stavka(1) are confined to an announcement
that under the pressure of large forces the Russian troops
are retiring to the fortified line of the Niemen. But the
public understands... .
This afternoon I passed the Church of the Resurrection as I
was driving through the industrial Kolomna quarter. A funeral
stopped there at the same moment. The procession was a long one
composed solely of workmen and moujiks.
I had my car stopped at the corner of the Torgovaia, and under
the scandalized eyes of my footman I mingled with the humble group
following the bier.
Many and many a time have I watched such a crowd! Nowhere are
Russian faces so expressive as in church. The mysterious darkness
of the nave, the glittering candles, the play of light on ikons
and reliquaries, the smell. of incense, the moving beauty of the
singing, the imposing display of priestly robes, the magnificence
of the whole liturgical apparatus, and the very length of the
services have a sort of enchantment which gives life to dead souls
and brings them before our eyes.
In the faces before me two expressions could soon be distinguished - faith
and resignation; a simple, contemplative and sentimental faith,
a dumb, passive and sorrowful resignation.
Fatalism and piety are the very essence of all Russian souls.
To the great majority of them God is only the theological synonym
for fate.
Thursday, February 18, 1915.
The 10th Army has not yet succeeded in completely escaping
the German clutches. With a strength of four corps, perhaps twelve
divisions, it is said to have already left 50,000 prisoners and
60 guns in the enemy's hands.
I have been dining privately at Tsarskoe Selo with the
Grand Duke Paul.
The Grand Duke questioned me anxiously about the operations
which have just resulted in the loss to Russia of the invaluable
pledge of East Prussia. Every detail I gave him drew a deep sigh
from his lips:
"What does it all mean, in God's name?"
Then, recovering himself with a fine air of determination,
he continued:
"It doesn't matter! We shall go through with it. If we
have to retreat further we shall retreat, but I'll promise you
we shall continue the war to victory. As a matter of fact, I'm
only repeating to you what the Emperor and Empress said to me
the day before yesterday. They're fortitude itself, both of them.
Not a word of complaint or discouragement. They simply help each
other to bear up. Not a soul about them, not a soul, I
tell you, ever dares mention peace now!"
Friday, February 19, 1915
The three corps of the 10th Army which were in danger of being
surrounded in Augustovo Forest have at last succeeded in retiring
on the line of the Bobr, where reinforcements have reached them.
The communiqué of the Stavka simply reads: Between
the Niemen and the Fistula our troops are gradually leaving the
scene of the recent actions.
Saturday, February 20, 1915.
Yesterday the Anglo-French fleet bombarded the forts which
command the entrance to the Dardanelles. It is the prelude to
a landing on the Gallipoli Peninsula.
As I had to call on Sazonov this afternoon, I brought him away
in my car.
As we were crossing the Champ-de-Mars we noticed several companies
of infantry who were drilling. The men had difficulty in marching
in the snow. The yellow fog which hung over the great parade ground
gave the whole scene a most gloomy and funereal aspect. Sazonov
remarked with a sigh:
"Look! There's a sad sight for you! I suppose there's
about a thousand men there, and they're not conscripts being put
through their paces but trained men who are no doubt leaving for
the front in a few days. And there's not a rifle among them! Isn't
it dreadful! For Heaven's sake, Ambassador, stir up your Government
to come to the rescue. If they don't, where shall we be?"
I promised him to press them again, and with the greatest vigour,
to accelerate the despatch of the rifles expected from France,
for the sight of these poor moujiks on their way to the
slaughterhouse tore my heart.
As we were continuing our drive in silence a scene from Shakespeare
came to my mind - a scene in which the great dramatist seems to
have concentrated all the ironic pity with which the spectacle
of human follies filled him. It is at the beginning of Henry
II. The merry Falstaff is presenting to Prince Henry of Lancaster
a troop he has just recruited, a gang which is simply a collection
of ragged beggars without arms. "I never did see such pitiful
rascals!" cries the Prince. "Tut, tut!" cries Falstaff;
"food for powder, food for powder; they'll fill a pit as
well as better. Tush, man! mortal men, mortal men!"
Sunday, February 21, 1915.
The communiqué of the Stavka announces the evacuation
of East Prussia, and explains it without concealing too much.
What impresses the public most is the insistence of the Russian
General Staff on the advantage the enemy derives from his railway
system. So the pessimists are going about saying: "That's
why we shall never beat the Germans!"
At the beginning of this month the Duc de Guise (son of the
late Duc de Chartres) arrived incognito at Sophia. He had fallen
in with Delcassé's suggestion that he should use his influence
with the Tsar Ferdinand to persuade him to throw in his lot with
us.
Ferdinand showed no anxiety to receive his nephew. On various
excuses he did not receive him until he had made him wait six
days. When at length he was taken to the palace the Duc de Guise
strongly insisted on the political reasons for Bulgaria's joining
our coalition; with even greater fervour he employed the "family
arguments" which impose on the grandson of King Louis Philippe
the duty of helping France. The Tsar Ferdinand heard him out with
his most attentive and amiable expression, but told him point
blank that he meant to retain a completely free hand. And then,
quite suddenly and with that evil smile I have so often seen on
his face, he continued: "Now that you've done what you were
sent to do, be my nephew once more." And after that he talked
commonplaces all the time.
The Duc de Guise was received at the palace three times in
the next few days, but he never succeeded in bringing back the
conversation into political channels. On February 13 he left for
Salonica.
The failure of his mission is significant.
Tuesday, February 23, 1915.
The Germans continue to make progress between the Niemen and
the Vistula.
With a reference to the weariness of his troops and the exhaustion
of his ammunition supply, the Grand Duke Nicholas had me discreetly
informed a few days ago that he would be glad to see the French
Army take the offensive with a view to preventing the transfer
of German forces to the eastern front.
In acquainting the French Government with his desire I took
care to remind them that the Grand Duke Nicholas had not hesitated
to sacrifice Samsonov's army on August 29 last in answer to our
appeal for help. The reply has been exactly what I expected: General
Joffre has just ordered a vigorous attack in Champagne.
Wednesday, February 24, 1915.
This afternoon as I was calling on Madame O - -, who takes
a very active part in Red Cross work, the door of the room suddenly
flew open. A tall man, dressed in top boots and the long black
caftan which well-to-do moujiks wear on holidays, strode
towards Madame O - - and gave her a resounding kiss on the hand.
It was Rasputin.
With a swift glance at me he enquired:
"Who is it?"
Madame O - - introduced me. He continued:
"Oh, yes; the French Ambassador! I'm pleased to meet him.
He's the very man I want to see."
He began to rattle along, so much so that Madame O - -, who
acted as interpreter, had not even time to translate.
Thus I had a chance of taking stock of him. Dark, long, and
ill-kempt hair; stiff black beard; high forehead; broad, acquiline
nose. But the whole expression of the face was concentrated in
the eyes - light-blue eyes with a curious sparkle, depth, and
fascination. His gaze was at once penetrating and caressing, naive
and cunning, direct and yet remote. When he was excited it seemed
as if his pupils became magnetic.
In short, jerky phrases and with a wealth of gesticulation,
he gave me a pathetic picture of the sufferings inflicted on the
Russian people by the war:
"There are too many dead and wounded, too many widows
and orphans, nothing but ruin and tears! Think of all the poor
fellows who'll never come back, and remember that each of them
has left behind him five, six, ten persons who can only weep!
I know of villages where everybody's in mourning... . And what
about those who do come back! What are they like! Legless, armless,
blind! ... It's terrible! For more than twenty years we shall
harvest nothing but sorrow on Russian soil!"
"Yes, indeed, it's terrible enough," I said; "but
it would be far worse if all these sacrifices were to be in vain.
A peace that was no peace, a peace which was the result of war-weariness
would be not merely a crime against our dead: it would bring with
it internal crises from which our countries might never recover."
"You're right. We must fight on to victory."
"I'm glad to hear you say so, as I know several people
in high places who are relying on you to persuade the Emperor
not to continue the war."
He gave me a suspicious glance and scratched his beard. Then
he shot out:
"There are fools everywhere."
"Yes; but the bad thing is that these fools are believed
in by Berlin. The Emperor William is convinced that your friends
and you yourself are using all your influence for peace."
"The Emperor William ... Why, don't you know he's inspired
by the Devil? All he says and does is what the Devil tells him
to. I know what I'm saying; it is the Devil alone who helps him.
But one fine day the Devil will suddenly leave him, because God
has so decreed. And William will fall flat like an old shirt thrown
on a dunghill."
"Then our victory is a certainty. It's obvious that the
Devil cannot win."
"Yes, we shall be the victors. But I don't know when.
... God chooses the hour that seems good to Him for His miracles.
We are not at the end of our trials; much more blood and many
more tears must flow."
He returned to his first topic, the necessity of alleviating
the sufferings of the masses:
"It will cost enormous sums, millions and millions of
roubles. But there must be no consideration of expense... .
When the people suffer too much they get bad, you see ... They
may become dangerous; they may even sometimes go so far as to
talk of a republic... . You must tell the Emperor all this."
"You can't expect me to talk evil of a republic to the
Emperor!"
"Of course not, but you can tell him that you can't pay
too much for the happiness of the people, and that France will
give him all the money he needs. France is so rich!"
"France is rich because she works hard and saves hard.
. . Quite recently she advanced large sums to Russia."
" Advanced large sums? What sums? I'm sure it was a case
of more money for the tchinovniks. The peasants wouldn't
get a kopeck of it! Take my word for it! No, speak to the Emperor
as I told you."
"Speak to him yourself! You see him far more often than
I."
He did not like my obstinacy. Raising his head and pressing
his lips, he replied, in a tone that was all but insolent:
"That's not my business at all. I'm not the Emperor's
Finance Minister: I'm the Minister of his soul!"
"All right, then! I'll speak to the Emperor as you suggest
the next time I see him."
"Thank you! Thank you! just one word more. Is Russia going
to have Constantinople?"
"Yes, if we win."
"Is it certain?"
"I firmly believe so."
"Then the Russian people won't regret having suffered
so much and will be willing to suffer more."
Thereupon he embraced Madame O - -, clasped me in his arms,
and strode out, banging the door behind him.
Saturday, February 27, 1915.
The Anglo-French fleet is continuing its attack on the Dardanelles
with the greatest vigour: all the outer forts are already silenced.
The result is great public excitement in Russia, which expects
to see the Allied ships off the Golden Horn any day now.
The Byzantine mirage mesmerizes public opinion more and more,
and, indeed, to such a pitch as to leave it almost indifferent
to the loss of East Prussia - as if the defeat of Germany were
not a condition precedent to the fulfilment of the Byzantine dream!
Sunday, February 28, 1915.
The German advance in Poland and Lithuania has been stayed,
and near Prasnyez, eighty kilometres north of Warsaw, they have
even suffered a serious reverse.
Monday, March 1, 1915.
This morning Sazonov called the attention of Buchanan and myself
to the excitement which the Constantinople question is rousing
in all ranks of Russian society:
"A few weeks ago," he said, " I could still
think that the opening of the Straits did not necessarily involve
the definite occupation of Constantinople. To-day I have to admit
that the whole country demands that radical solution... . Hitherto
Sir Edward Grey has confined himself to informing us that the
question of the Straits must be settled in conformity with Russia's
wishes. It is true that King George has gone further and said
to our Ambassador, Benckendorff: Constantinople must
be yours.
But the hour for plain speaking has come. The Russian people
are now entitled to know that they can count on their Allies in
the realization of their national task. England and France should
say openly that they agree to the annexation of Constantinople
by Russia when the day for peace arrives.
General Pau, who commanded the army in Alsace at the beginning
of the war and captured Mulhausen, has reached Petrograd via Salonica,
Sofia, and Bucharest; his mission is to convey French decorations
to the Russian army. The impressions of France he brings are excellent.
I gave a dinner in his honour this evening: he communicated
the confidence which his every word and look inspire to all present.
Wednesday, March 3, 1915.
I presented General Pau to the Emperor to-day: General de Laguiche
was with us.
At ten minutes to one Count Benckendorff, Grand Marshal of
the Court, took us to His Majesty in one of the small drawing-rooms
of Tsarskoe Selo. The Emperor was his natural and kindly
self, as usual, but his questions to General Pau about our army,
supplies, and operations were as obvious and casual as ever. As
a matter of fact, the four young Grand Duchesses and the Tsarevitch
came in with the Mistress of the Robes, Madame Narishkin. After
the introductions we went straight in to luncheon.
In accordance with old Russian tradition there is no dining-room
in the Alexander Palace. Meals are served sometimes in one room,
sometimes in another, according to circumstances. To-day the table - a
round, old-fashioned family table-was laid in the library, where
the sun, sparkling reflections of the snow and bright views down
the garden created a light-hearted atmosphere.
I was on the Empress's right and General Pau on her left. Madame
Narishkin was on the Emperor's right and General de Laguiche on
his left. On my right I had the eldest of the Grand Duchesses,
Olga Nicolaievna, who is nineteen and a half. Her three sisters,
the Tsarevitch and Count Benckendorff were the other members of
the party.
The conversation was quite free and natural, but nevertheless
dragged a little.
The Empress looked very well: she was obviously making a special
effort to be gracious and smiling. She returned several times
to the same subject Rasputin discussed so warmly with me - the
endless chain of suffering the war means to the poor, and the
political and moral duty of helping them.
The Tsarevitch found the meal long, and every now and then
started playing pranks, to the despair of his sisters, who frowned
at him. The Emperor and Empress smiled and pretended not to see.
General Pau made an excellent impression with his natural dignity,
his fine face - the face of an honest soldier - and his reputation
for military talent, honour, and religious fervour.
The moment we rose from the table the Emperor drew me to the
end of the room and said in a serious tone:
"You may remember the talk I had with you last November.
My views have not changed since then, but there is one point on
which events compel me to be more precise - I mean Constantinople.
The question of the Straits is preoccupying public opinion in
Russia to the highest degree. It is a current which flows more
strongly every day. I could not admit my right to impose on my
people the terrible sacrifices of this war if I did not reward
them with the realization of their time-honoured ambition. My
mind is therefore made up, Ambassador. I shall adopt the radical
solution of the problem of Constantinople and the Straits. The
solution I outlined to you in December is the only possible and
practical one. The city of Constantinople and southern Thrace
must be incorporated in my Empire. Of course, I should be prepared
to allow the city to be administered on special principles designed
to safeguard foreign interests. You know that England has already
expressed her approval. King George told my Ambassador quite recently:
Constantinople must be yours. That pronouncement is, a
guarantee of England's goodwill, but if any misunderstanding on
questions of detail arise I shall count on the help of your Government
in settling it."
"May I tell my Government, Sire, that Your Majesty's views
on the problems which interest France directly have not changed
either?"
"Certainly! I want France to emerge from this war as great
and strong as possible. I agree beforehand to everything your
Government wishes. Take the left bank of the Rhine; take Coblentz;
go even further if you think it wise."
Then he took me back to the Empress who was talking to General
Pau and General de Laguiche. Five minutes later the sovereigns
withdrew.
Monday, March 8, 1915.
In accordance with instructions in a telegram from Delcassé
this evening I have told Sazonov that he may rely on the goodwill
of the French Government as regards the questions of Constantinople
and the Straits being solved in the manner desired by Russia.
Sazonov thanked me most warmly:
"Your Government," he said, "has just rendered
the Alliance an invaluable service ... perhaps you yourself
do not know how valuable."
Tuesday, March 9, 1915.
The Emperor is extremely jealous of his authority. As is so
often the case with weak characters, his jealousy is of the silent
and suspicious, obstinate and resentful variety. Count Kokovtsov
has given me a curious illustration of it:
"You may remember," he said, "that after the
assassination of Stolypin at Kiev, in September, 1911, the Emperor
appointed me President of the Council. The moment my appointment
was decided upon I left His Majesty, who was just going to the
Crimea, and returned straight to Petersburg. I took up my duties
as soon as possible, and after three weeks or so I went to make
my report to the Emperor, who was still at Yalta. As you may imagine,
I had some pretty grave matters to put before him. He received
me most kindly: 'I'm very pleased with you, Vladimir Nicolaievitch,'
he said with a friendly smile. 'I know you've gathered good men
round you and are working in the right spirit. I feel that you
won't treat me as your predecessor, Peter Arkadievitch, did.'
Speaking personally, Stolypin was not a friend of mine: there
was plenty of mutual respect, but little sympathy between us.
But I couldn't help answering: 'Peter Arkadievitch died for Your
Majesty, Sire!' 'He died in my service, true. But he was always
so anxious to keep me in the background. Do you suppose I liked
always reading in the papers that the President of the Council
has done this ... the President of the Council has done that?
Don't I count? Am I nobody? '"
Friday, March 12, 1915.
As the price of its consent to Russia's designs on Constantinople
and the Straits the British Government has asked the Imperial
Government to agree that the neutral zone in Persia (i.e., all
the central part of Iran, including the Ispahan region) shall
be incorporated in the English zone.
Sazonov immediately replied to Buchanan:
"Certainly!"
Thus the Persian question, which has been a bone of contention
between England and Russia for two centuries, has been settled
in one minute!
Saturday, March 13, 1915.
Count Witte died more or less suddenly from a cerebral tumour
this morning; he was nearly sixty-seven.
When telegraphing the news to Delcassé I added With
him a regular hotbed of intrigue has gone.
Sunday, March 14, 1915.
It is now a week since I began to receive hints of a case of
treachery on which the military authorities have preserved strict
silence; I know now how serious it was.
A senior gendarmerie officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Miassoyedov,
who was formerly employed in the counterespionage police and was
attached to the Intelligence Service of the 10th Army at the beginning
of the war, has been arrested at Vilna on a charge of having intelligence
with Germany.
The first information was given by a Russian officer, a prisoner
of war whom the German General staff offered to set at liberty
if he would agree to "work" in Germany's interest on
his return to his own country. The officer pretended to agree
and his pretence was so convincing that he was given the name
of the person to whom he was to apply for instructions as to the
direction of his enquiries and the transmission of his correspondence.
When he reached Petrograd he immediately denounced Lieutenant-Colonel
Miassoyedov.
General Bielaiev, the Chief of the General Staff, was in no
way surprised at receiving this information.
About 1908 Miassoyedov, who was then in command of the gendarmerie
at the frontier station of Wirballen, had been implicated
in an ugly case of smuggling. He had had to be placed on the retired
list. He did not stay there long. His wife - a Jewish adventuress
whom he had met at Carlsbad - had become a very close friend of
Madame Sukhomlinov. The Minister of War yielded to his wife's
entreaties and took the unfaithful officer on his personal staff.
Miassoyedov took advantage of his new post to extend his dealings
with Germany and Austria. But notwithstanding all his cunning
and the facilities given him by his official functions, he became
the subject of very scandalous rumours and the most serious insinuations.
In 1911 Gutchkov, the leader of the Octobrist Party in the
Duma, one day accused him publicly of being in the pay of the
German General Staff. General Sukhomlinov covered his subordinate,
and Miassoyedov then demanded, and obtained, satisfaction from
Gutchkov. The duel was with pistols, and took place on one of
the islands in the Neva. The conditions were very stringent, the
distance between the duellists being fifteen paces only. Gutchkov
a man of great courage and a splendid shot, placidly let his opponent
fire first. When he heard the bullet whistle past his ear he scornfully
threw his weapon down and withdrew without so much as a look at
the astonished Miassoyedov. When Gutchkov's seconds asked him
why he had spared the traitor's life he replied:
"Because I don't want to save him from his natural death - hanging!"
Thereafter Miassoyedov continued his secret intrigues in complete
secret. Every day he has unlimited access to the Minister of War
and Madame Sukhomlinov, to whom he acted as a sort of retriever
and commission broker.
In August, 1914, he was put in charge of the intelligence service
of the 10th Army.
After securing certain subordinate officials and a flying officer
as his accomplices he sent the German General Staff reports on
the movements of the Russian army, its condition as regards supplies,
the state of public opinion, &c. The flying officer transmitted
these reports when flying over the German lines, at agreed times.
There can be no doubt that these detailed and continuous reports
have had a good deal to do with the series of reverses which.
have just compelled the Russians to evacuate East Prussia.
Before the Warsaw Court Martial Miassoyedov protested his innocence,
but the evidence against him seems to have been overwhelming.
He was condemned to death and hanged on March 10.
The trial of his accomplices is not yet over.
Monday, March 15, 1915.
The French Government has been considering the terms of peace
to be imposed on Turkey by the Allies, and has instructed me to
inform the Russian Government of the compensation France expects
to receive in Syria.
The Emperor is now at G.H.Q., but he has asked me to go there
to discuss the matter with him. Sazonov is invited also.
Tuesday, March 16, 1915.
I left Petrograd yesterday evening in an imperial saloon attached
to the Warsaw express, and this morning woke up in Vilna from
which place a special train conveyed me to Baranovici. Until half-past
twelve we were traversing vast and almost deserted plains, stretching
their rolling snowfields like an ermine carpet as far as the eye
could reach.
Baranovici is a miserable little country town on the railway
which connects Warsaw and Moscow via Brest-Litovsk, Minsk and
Smolensk.
General Headquarters is established several versts from the
town in a clearing in a forest of pines and birches. The various
Staff departments are housed in a dozen trains standing fan-wise
among the trees. Here and there between them a number of military
barracks and a few Cossack and gendarmerie posts can be
seen.
I was taken straight to the imperial train - an endless line
of huge saloons with the imperial arms in gold - under the sunlit
foliage.
The Emperor received me immediately in his drawing-room car:
"I'm glad to see you here," he said, "at the
General Headquarters of my armies. It will be another memory we
shall have in common, my dear Ambassador."
"I already owe Your Majesty the unforgettable memory of
Moscow. I cannot be in your presence here - at the heart of your
armies - and remain unmoved."
"Let's have luncheon first. We can talk after. You must
be very hungry!"
We passed into the next car, comprising a smoke-room and a
long dining-room. Luncheon had been laid for twenty guests. The
Grand Duke Nicholas Nicolaievitch sat on the Emperor's right,
the Grand Duke Peter Nicolaievitch on his left. The place opposite
His Majesty was occupied, as etiquette decrees, by Prince Dolgorukov,
Marshal of the Court. I was on his right and had General Janushkevitch,
Chief of Staff to the Commander-in-Chief, on my right. The table
was narrow enough for conversation to be general.
We talked freely, and there was no lack of animation, no feeling
of restraint. The Emperor was in high spirits and asked me about
my journey, the success the French have just gained in the Argonne,
the operations of the Allied squadrons off the Dardanelles and
so forth. Then, with a sudden gleam of ironic satisfaction in
his eyes, he said:
"And we haven't said a word about poor Count Witte! I
hope his death hasn't distressed you too much, Ambassador!"
"No, indeed, Sire! When I reported his death to my Government
my funeral oration over him was confined to the words: With
him a great hotbed of intrigue has gone!"
"But that's exactly what I think! Listen, gentlemen. .
."
He repeated my phrase twice. Then with a grave and solemn air
he remarked:
"Count Witte's death has been a great relief to me. I
also regard it as a sign from God."
His words revealed his fear and distrust of Witte.
As soon as luncheon was over the Emperor took me into his study.
It is a rectangular compartment, occupying the full width of the
saloon and filled with plain furniture and large leather chairs.
On a table there was a great pile of huge envelopes.
"Look at that," said the Emperor. "It's my daily
budget. I've got to get through all that to-day."
I know from Sazonov that he never misses this daily task, and
is scrupulously careful to do the work - and it is heavy work - his
position imposes.
He made me sit by him, and with a kind smile gave me his whole
attention:
"Now, I'm ready."
I described in detail the full programme of civilizing work
France intends to undertake in Syria, Cilicia, and Palestine.
He made me carefully point out on the map the regions which
would thus come under French influence and declared:
"I agree to all you ask."
Our discussion on political topics was over. The Emperor then
rose and took me to the other end of his study, where maps of
Poland and Galicia were spread out on a long table. He showed
me the general distribution of his armies, and said:
"In the Narev and Niemen regions the danger is averted,
but I attach even greater importance to the operations which have
begun in the Carpathians. If our successes continue we shall soon
be masters of the main passes, which will enable us to debouch
into the Hungarian plains. When that stage is reached our operations
will proceed more rapidly. By advancing along the southern slopes
of the Carpathians we shall reach the defiles of the Oder and
the Neisse. From there we shall penetrate into Silesia."
With these cheering words the Emperor released me.
"I know you're going back to-night, but we must meet again
at tea. If you've nothing better to do I'll take you to see some
cinematograph films of our operations in Armenia. They're very
interesting."
It was half-past two when I left the Emperor.
After a short talk with Sazonov I called on the Generalissimo,
whose train was drawn up a few metres away.
The Grand Duke received me in a roomy and comfortable apartment
spread with bearskins and eastern rugs. In his customary frank
and decided manner, he said:
"I've some serious matters I want to talk to you about.
It's not the Grand Duke Nicholas talking to Monsieur Paléologue:
it's the Commander-in-Chief of the Russian armies speaking officially
to the French Ambassador. In that capacity it's my duty to tell
you that the immediate co-operation of Italy and Rumania is a
matter of the greatest urgency. But please don't interpret these
words as a cry of distress. I still think that with God's help
the victory will be ours. At the same time, without the immediate
co-operation of France and Italy the war will be prolonged for
many months more, and we shall run terrible risks."
I replied that the French Government had never ceased to intensify
its efforts to gain allies:
"Japan, Greece, Bulgaria, Rumania, Italy - Monsieur Delcassé
has knocked at all their doors. At this very moment he is racking
his brains as to how to get the Rumanian and Italian Governments
into line. But I cannot hide from you that Russia's claim to Constantinople
and the Straits may perhaps make it impossible for these two Governments
to join our alliance."
"Oh, that's the business of diplomacy... . It's outside
my line altogether... . Now let's talk as private individuals."
He offered me a cigarette, made me sit beside him on a settee,
and asked me questions innumerable about France. Twice he said
to me:
"I can't find words to express my admiration for France!"
The course of conversation brought us to the question of operations.
I told the Grand Duke what the Emperor had just told me about
the plan of a general offensive in the direction of Silesia by
the defiles of the Oder and the Neisse:
"I confess I find it somewhat difficult to reconcile this
plan with the disturbing prospects your statements open up."
The Grand Duke's face suddenly clouded over:
"I never discuss an opinion of His Majesty except when
he does me the honour to ask my advice."
Someone came in to say that the Emperor was waiting tea for
us.
The Grand Duke took me with him. On our way he showed me his
saloon, which is fitted up most ingeniously and comfortably. His
bedroom gets its light from four windows on one side of the carriage
and is very simply furnished, but the walls are completely covered
with ikons - there must be at least two hundred of them!
After tea the Emperor took me to a cinematograph improvised
in a hut. We had a long series of picturesque scenes from the
recent operations of the Russian. army in the region of Tchorokh
and Aghri Dagh. As I gazed on the gigantic walls of Eastern Armenia,
that chaos of huge mountains with their knife-edged crests slashed
by ravines, I could realize all the valour the Russian soldiers
must have displayed in advancing over such country in thirty degrees
of frost and perpetual snowstorms. When the show was over the
Emperor took me back to his saloon, where we parted.
At half-past seven I left for Petrograd with Sazonov.
Friday, March 19, 1915.
The Allied squadrons met with a reverse yesterday during a
general attack on the forts which command the entrance to the
Dardanelles. The French cruiser Bouvet struck a floating mine;
the battleship Gaulois was put out of action, and two English
battleships, Irresistible and Ocean, were sunk.
Saturday, March 20, 1915.
The news of Miassoyedov's treachery is beginning to leak out,
in spite of the silence of the press. As usual, imagination joins
in and searches for accomplices even amongst the greatest of the
great at court. There is much excitement.
I have been shown in confidence a letter which the "Labour-Socialist"
deputy, Kerensky, recently wrote to President Rodzianko asking
him to secure an immediate session of the Duma with a view to
questions being put about the Miassoyedov affair:
"The centre of all this treachery," he wrote, "is
the Ministry of the Interior... . Russian society knows well
enough that those in charge of that department are bent solely
on the restoration, at the earliest possible moment, of those
old and close relations with the Prussian monarchy which were
an indispensable support to our reactionary forces at home. The
Duma must protect the country against these stabs in the back.
In the name of my constituents I beg you, Mr. President, to insist
upon an immediate meeting of the Duma so that it may perform its
duty of bringing the Executive to book at so grave a moment."
Of course, Rodzianko was unable to do anything.
Sunday, March 21, 1915.
Feeling somewhat perturbed in mind as the result of my recent
conversation with the Grand Duke Nicholas I have been to see General
Bielaiev, Chief of the General Staff, and questioned him about
the supply of ammunition for the Russian artillery. This is the
gist of his reply:
(1) The daily output of field-gun ammunition is at most 20,000
rounds at the moment;
(2) If the orders placed abroad are executed by contract time,
by the end of May the Russian artillery will have 65,000 rounds
a day (of which 26,000 are expected from England and America).
This figure will rise to 85,000 by the end of September.
(3) If the methods applied by the French munitions industry
are adopted our output could be increased by 10,000 after July.
But if that result is to be obtained the whole organization of
Russian industry must be fundamentally changed.
I am making urgent representations to Paris for the despatch
of a body of technical instructors.
Monday, March 22, 1915.
After an investment of four and a half months the fortress
of Przemysl capitulated this morning.
From the strategical point of view the incident is of very
slight importance, but morally it steadies Russian public opinion
a little at an opportune moment.
Tuesday, March 23, 1915.
This evening I dined with Countess Marie Shuvalov, née
Komarov, widow of Count Paul Andreievitch, who was Ambassador
in Berlin and Governor-General of Poland. In addition to myself
she had invited the. Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna, Maklakov, the
Minister of the Interior, Prince Radziwill Tcharykov, formerly
Ambassador in Constantinople, and others.
After dinner I had a long talk with Maklakov, who asked me
about my recent audience of the Emperor. I enjoyed telling him
of all the proofs the Emperor had given me of his determination
to continue the war. Maklakov kept on saying:
"I'm very glad to hear you say so! Of course, we must
go through with the war to the bitter end, yes, to the bitter
end! I'm quite confident now: God will give us the victory!"
But his face was deadly pale; his features were haggard, and
he looked particularly downcast. For a long time he covered Lieutenant-Colonel
Miassoyedov, and now he feels that the Emperor is angry with him
and that the hour of his downfall is at hand.
The Grand Duchess Marie Pavlovna was no less inquisitive about
the impressions I had brought away with me from Baranovici. When
I had told her what I thought, she said:
"I'm always easy in my mind when the Emperor is away from
the Empress. It is she who makes him go wrong."
Then she added:
"I want to ask you an indiscreet question."
"With pleasure, Madame."
"Is it true that Miassoyedov's treachery was discovered
by the French police and that the reason why the Emperor summoned
you to Baranovici was to talk to you about it? And is it also
true that Count Witte committed suicide when he found out that
you had proof of his dealings with Germany in your possession?"
"I heard of. the Miassoyedov affair only three or four
days before his conviction and from a Russian officer. And as
for Count Witte, I know for certain that he died quite suddenly
of a cerebral tumour."
"I believe you. But the public will prefer my romance
to your reality."
Wednesday, March 24, 1915.
Interesting as the Russian novel is as an expression of the
national mind and soul, illuminating as is the work of a Turgueniev,
Tolstoy, Dostoievsky, Tchekov, Korolenko, or Gorky from that point
of view, Russian music carries us even further into the depths
of the national conscience and emotions. Renan has said of Turgueniev:
"No man has ever been such an incarnation of a whole race.
A world lived in him and spoke by his lips: generations of ancestors,
lost in the sleep of centuries, came to life and speech through
him."
Is that not even truer of Borodin, Moussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov,
Tchaikovsky, Glazounov, Balakirev, or Liadov? Songs, operas, ballets,
symphonies, orchestral and piano pieces, each work bears the imprint
of the land and the race. Here one finds in the most seductive,
fascinating, and convincing forms the whole character and temperament
of the Russians - their perpetual unrest, hasty and irresistible
impulses, vague and sorrowful, impotent and conflicting aspirations;
their tendency to melancholy, obsession by mystery and death,
love of self-revelation and reverie, susceptibility to emotional
extravagances; their bondage to their own passions - whether the
most tender and refined or the most frenzied: their capacity for
suffering and resignation on the one hand, fury and savagery on
the other; their sensitiveness to the appeal of Nature and her
still small voices and soothing or terrifying magic; their vague
realization of the atmosphere of fatality, gloom, tragedy, and
enormity which shrouds the soil, the soul, and the history of
Russia.
This afternoon I was deeply impressed by all this when I called
on Madame S - - who for two hours sang me excerpts from Moussorgsky's
works, Eremushka's Cradle Song, the Elegy, Hopak, the
Intermezzo, the Dances of Death , and so on - works
throbbing with realism and emotional vitality. The power of musical
evocation, the full force of suggestion by rhythm and melody seem
to reach their highest point in these songs.
Yet Moussorgsky has gone even further as an interpreter of
the national conscience. His two lyrical dramas, Boris Godounov
and Khovantchina, with their wondrous beauty, are first-hand
authorities for a true understanding of the Russian soul.
A few days ago I was present at a performance of Khovantchina.
The action takes place at the end of the seventeenth century
and summarizes the remorseless struggle which Peter the
Great maintained throughout his reign against the old Muscovite
spirit, the barbarous, gloomy, and fanatical Russia of the boyars
and monks, Raskolniks and Streltsy.
All the passions of that dark era appear successively on the
canvas with the most lifelike relief. As in Boris Godounov,
the real hero, the protagonist in the drama, is the people. The
national life is passing through one of its great crises, and
from that point of view the last act has a grandeur which is nothing
less than sublime.
Pursued by the Tsar's soldiery the Raskolniks, or "Old
Believers," have taken refuge in an isba buried in
the heart of the woods. Their leader, the aged Dositheus, exhorts
them to die rather than abjure their faith: he extols the virtue
of death by fire, the "Red Death." After a number of
enthusiastic or heartrending episodes all the Raskolniks - men,
women, girls, and children - agree to commit suicide: all
of them long for martyrdom. They make a funereal pyre in a barn.
The aged Dositheus recites the gospel: hymns of triumph reply.
Suddenly the pile of faggots blazes up: the doors of the isba
are closed. Clouds of smoke seem to waft the dying anthems
to the skies. The soldiers of the Tsar rush in just as the roof
collapses on a heap of corpses.
For more than a century suicide by burning, the "Red Death,"
was the fashion in the sect of the Raskol, and cost thousands
and thousands of victims. The first apostle of the terrible doctrine
was a simple moujik, Basil Volosaty, who was born about
1630 at Sokolsk, near Vladimir. He went about saying: "The
Antichrist reigns on the earth and the priests of the Church shamefully
submit to his sway. To receive any sacrament from them, whether
baptism, communion, marriage, or extreme unction, is to receive
the mark of Antichrist. The sins of him who bears that mark will
never be forgiven. Then how shall he win salvation? By suicide.
There is no other way. And if we think about it, how can we hesitate?
By throwing ourselves into the flames we immediately escape the
power of the Antichrist. We get rid of all that is gross in us:
we die with an unsullied faith and a purified soul. In exchange
for a few moments of suffering we gain eternal bliss: we are immediately
received in the company of saints... ."
The Volosatovchtchina spread with tremendous rapidity
all over Russia; it made its greatest headway among the peasants
and monks. Its principal centres were Vladimir, Kostroma, Suzdal,
YaroslavI, Novgorod, Onega, Viatka, Perm, and Western Siberia.
Every year there were thousands of victims. At Potchekonie, in
1685, a single auto-da-fé accounted for seven hundred
people. It needed all the ferocious energy of Peter the Great
to check this madness.
But the same extraordinary phenomena have reappeared occasionally
since. In the province of Olonetz, in 1860, there was a sudden
epidemic of suicide by burning. The imperial police had to act
with ruthless severity to suppress it.
Even in our own times the annals of the Russian sects have
had to record several cases of voluntary and wholesale auto-da-fé.
In 1897 the Raskolnik village of Tarnov on the Dniester
was terrorized by the preaching of a demented old woman,
Vitalia, who announced the coming of the Antichrist; she saw him
approaching in the curious form of the general census which the
administrative authorities were then carrying out. When the census
officials appeared in Tarnov they found all the streets deserted
and all the doors barricaded. Through a half-opened window a hand
was thrust in which was the following protest:
We are true Christians. The work on which you have come here
would sever us from Christ who is our heavenly Fatherland, our
only Fatherland. So we will not obey your orders; we will not
give you our names. We would rather die for Christ.
The officials withdrew, saying they would shortly return with
the police.
All the moujiks of the village immediately assembled
in Vitalia's house and took counsel. The census - which was nothing
but eternal damnation - must be avoided at any cost. After a brief
discussion the whole company, men and women, decided to bury themselves
alive with their children. With a glowing and gloomy ardour they
feverishly dug four subterranean tunnels. Then, arrayed in shrouds
and holding candles, they read their own burial service. For the
last time Vitalia addressed them without in any way hiding the
ghastly sufferings which awaited them - and would open the gates
of heaven to them. Then with songs of triumph they all jumped
into the pits, which. they walled up from the inside. When the
authorities were informed and proceeded to exhume the bodies,
it was found that the death agonies of the "martyrs"
had lasted more than a day.
These tragic episodes are rare, but the religious sects which
swarm in the shadow of orthodoxy are continually producing examples
of collective "exaltation." Sometimes an epidemic of
demoniacal possession breaks out in a village and spreads far
and wide. Sometimes a hermitage or monastery becomes the centre
of a prophetic movement. Sometimes, again, a wave of idealist
or sensual mysticism sweeps a whole district off its feet.
One of the most extraordinary manifestations which have been
observed of recent years was the outbreak in the neighbourhood
of Kiev among the sect of the Maliovanists which took the form
of aberrations of the sense of smell. In their emotional fits
the faithful, - simple peasants - thought they suddenly perceived
smells of indescribable sweetness. With radiant faces they ran
about smelling and blessing each other, convinced that what they
noticed was the "odour of the Holy Spirit."
Facts of this kind, which are innumerable in the domestic history
of Russia, emphasize one of the most characteristic features of
the national temperament. No race is so susceptible to religious
oratory and new ideas. In no other country, except, perhaps, the
Mohammedan East, are the masses so excitable, so incapable of
resisting mental contagion. Nowhere do psychic waves spread so
rapidly and go so far. Every stage of the evolution of the Russian
people is thus marked by a religious, moral, or political epidemic.
In that respect the anarchist troubles of 1905 provide a most
eloquent and formidable piece of evidence. The sanguinary mutinies
in the fleet and army, the exploits of the "Black Band,"
the destruction in the Baltic Provinces, the pogroms of Armenians
and Jews were really nothing but epidemics of massacre, pillage,
and arson. In each of these tragic occurrences the mental contamination
of the actors was practically immediate. By his susceptibility
to every form of propaganda and the feebleness of his personal
reactions the moujik showed once more how backward he is,
how near to nature, and how much the slave of his own instincts.
Saturday, March 27, 1915.
In the whole realm of the Russian novel there are no feminine
figures more appealing and seductive, or animated by a deeper
and truer vitality, than the heroines of Smoke and Anna
Karenina. Yet Turgueniev and Tolstoy both went to life itself
for their models.
The Irene of Smoke lets out part of her secret herself. When
that splendid creature, at once feminine and open-hearted, egoistical
and passionate, tries to win back the man she was once to have
married but sacrificed to a calculation of personal advantage,
the excuse she makes is that her ruined parents speculated infamously
in her beauty: she was taken to court and there attracted a very
high personage who married her to a fat, tame general in order
to make her his mistress. At the memory of this humiliation she
lowers her eyes and murmurs: "It's a strange and melancholy
story!" That young girl was the Princess Alexandra Sergueievna
Dolgoruky, and the high personage who fell in love with her was
none other than the Emperor Alexander II. About 1860 her influence
with her imperial lover, the favours he heaped upon her, her quick
intellect, charm of mind, and dignified manners won her the nickname
of "La Grande Mademoiselle." Before long the Tsar married
her to General Albedinsky, to whom a totally unexpected career
was thus opened; he was Governor of Poland when he died. Up to
the last Alexandra Sergueievna remained the friend and confidante
of Alexander II. Her brother, Prince Alexander Dolgoruky, became
Grand Marshal of the Imperial Court in the reign of Alexander
III. One of her sisters married the present Grand Marshal, Count
Paul Benckendorff.
Anna Karenina's adventure was also the result of observation
from life. The character of Alexis Karenina, the main characteristics
of Anna herself and the moral struggle of the husband and wife
were suggested to Tolstoy by the secret drama which has just occurred
in the family circle of the very worthy and pious Constantine
Pobiedonostsev, the famous Procurator of the Holy Synod.
Sunday, March 28, 1915.
Yesterday the Emperor showed Sazonov a letter he had just received
from Prince Gottfried von Hohenlohe, who is now Austro-Hungarian
Ambassador in Berlin after twelve years' service as military attaché
at the Royal and Imperial Embassy in Russia.
Recalling the friendly spirit the Emperor has always shown
him, Prince Hohenlohe says he is prepared to answer for the pacific
views of the court of Vienna; he has therefore suggested to the
Tsar that a confidential envoy should be sent to Switzerland to
confer with an emissary from the Emperor Francis Joseph; he has
no doubt that the basis of an honourable peace could easily be
found.
"This letter," said Sazonov, " shows that the
moral of Austria is very low; but no reply will be sent.
Old Francis Joseph is not yet tired enough of the war to accept
the terms we should impose."
I said nothing, as Delcassé has instructed me never
to utter a word which might induce Russia to think that we do
not abandon Austria to her in toto. But how, and by what
mental aberration, is it that our people will not realize the
enormous importance to us of detaching the Hapsburgs from the
Teutonic coalition? Is our military situation so favourable as
all that? Can the doubtful help we are expecting from Italy ever
be worth as much as the immediate and irreparable loss to Germany
which the defection of Austria would involve?
Tuesday, March 30, 1915.
Ever since the war began the Jews of Poland and Lithuania have
been passing through the most terrible trials. In August they
were compelled to leave the frontier zone en masse and
given no time to remove any of their belongings. After a short
respite the expulsions have begun again in the most summary, hasty,
and brutal manner. All the Israelite inhabitants of Grodno, Lomza,
Plotsk, Kutno, Lodz, Pietrokov, Kielce, Radom, and Lublin have
successively been driven into the interior in the direction of
Podolia and Volhynia. Everywhere the process of departure has
been marked by scenes of violence and pillage under the complacent
eye of the authorities. Hundreds of thousands of these poor people
have been seen wandering over the snows, driven like cattle by
platoons of Cossacks, abandoned in the greatest distress at the
stations, camping in the open round the towns, and dying of hunger,
weariness, and cold. And to fortify their courage these pitiful
multitudes have everywhere encountered the same feelings of hatred
and scorn, the same suspicion of espionage and treason. In its
long and grievous history Israel has never known more tragic migrations.
And yet there are 240,000 Jewish soldiers fighting, and fighting
well, in the ranks of the Russian army!
Wednesday, March 31, 1915.
Another lively discussion with Sazonov on the subject of the
territorial claims which the Italian Government is making in Dalmatia.
"Italy's claims," he said, "are a challenge
to the Slav conscience! Remember that Saint Isaac of Dalmatia
is one of the greatest saints in the orthodox calendar!"(2)
I replied somewhat sharply:
"We have taken up arms to save Serbia because the ruin
of Serbia would have signified the final hegemony of the Teutonic
powers; but we are not fighting to realize the chimeric dreams
of Slavism. The sacrifice of Constantinople is quite enough!"
Chapter Footnotes
1. Russian G.H.Q. (Tr.).
2. Saint Isaac the Dalmatian is the patron
saint of the cathedral of Petrograd.
