I saw Rodzianko
for a moment and told him that I was frightened that things were taking
a turn that might endanger the continuance of the war. He said: "My
dear Knox, you must be easy. Everything is going on all right. Russia
is a big country, and can wage a war and manage a revolution at the
same time." It was, however, precisely because Russia was a big
- and unwieldy - country that the situation was dangerous. In Petrograd
there were some 219,000 factory hands and some 150,000 mutinous troops,
and these constituted inflammable material that was internationalists
were working day and night to ignite. Leaflets were distributed advocating
the murder of officers. The outlook was black
(4)
In his book With the Russian Army: 1914-1917, Alfred
Knox described how Alexander Protopopov
arrived at the Duma after the abdication
of Nicholas II.
A student
standing in the open space before the Taurida Palace was accosted
by an individual in an old fur coat with muffled-up face. "Tell
me, you are a student?" "Yes." "I ask you to take
me to the Executive Committee of the Imperial Duma. I am the former
Minister of the Interior, Protopopov"; then in a lower voice
with lowered head: I also wish well to my country, and that is the
reason I have come of my own free will. Take me to the people who
want me."
(5)
Alfred Knox believed that Alexander Kerensky
was a vital member of the Provisional
Government.
There is
only one man who can save the country, and that is Kerensky, for this
little half-Jew lawyer has still the confidence of the over-articulate
Petrograd mob, who, being armed, are masters of the situation. The
remaining members of the Government may represent the people of Russia
outside the Petrograd mob, but the people of Russia, being unarmed
and inarticulate, do not count. The Provisional Government could not
exist in Petrograd if it were not for Kerensky.
(6)
Alfred Knox described the mutiny in the army that led to the overthrow
of Nicholas II in his book, With the Russian
Army: 1914-1917 (1921)
I
was talking to friends there in the corridor on the first floor, outside
the office of General Manikovsky, the Chief of the Department, when
General Hypatiev, the chemical expert, and M. Tereshchenko arrived with
the news that the depot troops of the garrison had mutinied and were
coming down the street. I heard for the first time that a company of
the Pavlovsky Regiment had fired on the police on the previous evening
and had been disarmed and confined in the Preobrazhensky barracks. The
Preobrazhensky and Volynsky Regiments had now mutinied.
We went
to the window and waited. Outside there was evident excitement, but
no sound came to us through the thick double windows. Groups were
standing at the corners gesticulating and pointing down the street.
Officers were hurrying away, and motorcars, my own amongst the number,
were taking refuse in the courtyards of neighbouring houses.
It seemed
that we waited at least ten minutes before the mutineers arrived.
Craning our necks, we first saw two soldiers - a sort of advanced
guard - who strode along the middle of the street, pointing their
rifles at loiterers to clear the road. One of them fired two shots
at an unfortunate chauffeur. Then came a great disorderly mass of
soldiery, stretching right across the wide street and both pavements.
They were led by a diminutive but immensely dignified student. There
were no officers. All were armed, and many had red flags fastened
to their bayonets. They came slowly and finally gathered up in a compact
mass in front of the Department.
Soon we
heard the windows and doors on the ground floor being broken in, and
the sound of shots reached us. The telephone rang and Manikovsky took
up the receiver. "They are shooting at the Sestroresk Works,
are they?" he roared in his great voice. "Well, God be with
them! They are shooting at the Chief Artillery Department too!"
An excited
orderly rushed in: "Your High Excellency! They are forcing their
way into the building. Shall we barricade your door?" But Manikovsky
had kept his nerve, and said: "No. Open all doors. Why should
we hinder them?"As the orderly turned away, astonished at this
new complaisance, Manikovsky sighed, and said to me with the characteristic
Russian click of worried anger: "Look what our Ministry has brought
us to!"
(7)
Alfred Knox, diary entry (20th July, 1917)
Events
have moved with dramatic quickness. Kerensky returned from the front
last night and, in a stormy meeting of the Ministry, demanded dictatorial
powers in order to bring the army back to discipline. The socialists
disagreed. Lvov and Tereshchenko did their utmost to reconcile the
diverging views. While addressing the men he was handed a telegram
telling him of the disaster on the South-West Front, where the Germans
have broken through. He took back the telegram to the Ministerial
Council and the attitude changed. Lvov has resigned and Kerensky will
be Prime Minister and Minister of War.
(8)
Alfred Knox was one of those who observed the Bolsheviks
taking the Winter Palace on 25th October, 1917.
The garrison
of the Winter Palace originally consisted of about 2,000 all told,
including detachments from yunker and ensign schools, three squadrons
of Cossacks, a company of volunteers and a company from the Women's
Battalion.
The garrison
had dwindled owing to desertions, for their were no provisions and
it had been practically starved for two days. There was no strong
man to take command and to enforce discipline. No one any stomach
for fighting; and some of the ensigns even borrowed great coats of
soldier pattern from the women to enable them to escape unobserved.
The greater
part of the yunkers of the Mikhail Artillery School returned to their
school, taking with them four out of their six guns. Then the Cossacks
left, declaring themselves opposed to bloodshed! At 10 p.m. a large
part of the ensigns left, leaving few defenders except the ensigns
of the Engineering School and the company of women.
(9)
In his memoirs Alfred Knox reported that he helped free the Women's
Battalion from the Bolsheviks.
When I
returned to the Embassy I found Lady Georgina in great excitement.
Two officer instructors of the Women's Battalion had come with a terrible
story to the effect that the 137 women taken in the Winter Palace
had been beaten and tortured, and were now being outraged in the Grenadersky
barracks.
I borrowed
the Ambassador's car and drove to the Bolshevik headquarters at the
Smolny Institute. This big building, formerly a school for the daughters
of the nobility, is now thick with the dirt of revolution. Sentries
and others tried to put me off, but I at length penetrated to the
third floor, where I saw the Secretary of the Military-Revolutionary
Committee (Vladimir
Antonov-Ovseenko)
and demanded that the women should be set free at once. He tried to
procrastinate, but I told him that if they were not liberated at once
I would set the opinion of the civilized world against the Bolsheviks.
Antonov-Ovseenko
tried soothe me and begged me to talk French instead of Russian, as
the waiting-room was crowded and we were attracting attention. He
himself talked excellent French and was evidently a man of education
and culture. Finally, after two visits to the adjoining room, where
he said the Council was sitting, he came back to say that the order
for the release would be signed at once.
I drove
with the officers to the Grenadersky barracks and went to see the
Regimental Committee. The commissar, a repulsive individual of Semitic
type, refused to release the women without a written order, on the
ground that "they had resisted to the last at the Palace, fighting
desperately with bombs and revolvers."
The Bolsheviks
in this instance were as good as their word. The order arrived at
the regiment soon after my departure, and the women were escorted
by a large guard to the Finland Station, where they left at 9 p.m.
for Levashovo, their battalion headquarters. As far as could be ascertained,
though they had been beaten and insulted in every way in the Pavlovsky
barracks and on their way to the Grenadersky Regiment, they were not
actually hurt in the barracks of the latter. They were, however, only
separated from the men's quarter by a barrier extemporized from beds,
and blackguards among the soldiery had shouted threats that had made
them tremble for the fate that the night might bring.
