The Last of the Tsars

He knew there could be trouble about the armed escort that would take the Romanovs to Tobolsk. The Tsarskoe Selo troops distrusted Kobylinski, and appointed their own commissar – an Armenian ensign called Domodzyants – to oversee how the Romanovs were managed. Kobylinski, who thought him uncouth, could do nothing to reverse the decision. Domodzyants was forever appearing in the park when the imperial family were there. He also tried to inveigle his way into the palace. Moreover, he was rude to the Romanovs and followed the precedent of his military comrades by refusing to shake hands with Nicholas. When the Soviet chairman informed Kerensky of Domodzyants’s appointment, Kerensky exclaimed: ‘Yes, I know. But surely you could have elected someone other than this lout, idiot and scoundrel.’ But Kerensky was just as powerless as Kobylinski to sack Domodzyants. Power at Tsarskoe Selo rested with the Soviet. Domodzyants told the troops to reject the emperor’s persistent attempts to talk with them on guard duty. This agitated Kobylinski enough to ask Nicholas to desist from greeting any soldiers, and Nicholas obeyed the request. Kobylinski and Nicholas were agreed on the need to keep a sense of calm in and around the palace.3

A couple of days before the departure Kerensky ordered Kobylinski to choose the officers for the trip. Kobylinski knew this was quite impractical. Though he theoretically could pick anyone from the three regiments at Tsarskoe Selo, the time had passed when he could opt for whomever he wanted. No regimental commander could give orders to his troops any longer. Power lay with the soldiers’ committees. So Kobylinski thought of a compromise. Of the five officers assigned to each company, permission would be given for the committees to select two of them.5 The committee of 4th Regiment told him that they had already chosen Ensign Dekonski, who had led the opposition to the garrison’s deployment to the front; they also appeared to know where the Romanovs would be travelling. They obviously had confidential sources. This was altogether too much for Kobylinski, who went and asked Kerensky to choose between him and Dekonski. Kerensky lost his temper and Dekonski was removed from the list, but only at the price of many troops refusing to be part of the detachment – and their replacements, at least in Kobylinski’s opinion, were of inferior quality.6

While Kobylinski would command the military personnel, the Socialist-Revolutionary Pavel Makarov was appointed as the Provisional Government’s commissar – Kerensky did not want to leave Kobylinski unsupervised or keep only Makarov as his eyes and ears. He therefore assigned Vershinin to accompany him. Makarov’s presence provoked laughter from Count Ilya Tatishchev, Nicholas’s confidant, who was tickled at finding that Makarov was a Socialist-Revolutionary.7 This was the solitary light moment of a sombre occasion (and Tatishchev never explained why he found things so comical). Kerensky confirmed that Dr Botkin would accompany Nicholas as his personal physician while Dr Vladimir Derevenko would serve as doctor for the troops.8 It was at this point that Kobylinski learned that they were going to the Siberian town of Tobolsk, but he was not allowed to tell the imperial family. Nicholas was studiedly patient. His only request was for the Standard of the Holy Mother icon to be placed on the train so that they could use it on Alexei’s birthday – and even this small favour had to be submitted for approval by the troops.9

Kerensky told the emperor to get ready for travel to a new site of residence, asking him to recognize that this would be for the good of his family, adding: ‘Do you believe me?’ Nicholas replied: ‘I believe.’10 By now there was a growing rapport between Kerensky and Nicholas, who told Baroness Buxhoeveden: ‘His political views of course are not mine. He always was a socialist and made no pretence at being anything else, but he’s a patriot and loves Russia.’11

Even so, Kerensky was cautious about what he said to Nicholas and he refrained from revealing the destination for fear that the news should leak out to enemies of the monarchy who might mount some kind of attack. (He obviously had no concerns about a possible rescue attempt by monarchists.) He assured Nicholas that there were no reasons for concern on his part. Nicholas was his stoical self: ‘I’m not worried. We trust you. If you say we need to move, that means it’s necessary. We trust you.’12 Nicholas consoled himself with the thought that once the Constituent Assembly elections happened and the political situation calmed down, he would be able to return to Tsarskoe Selo or settle somewhere else that they might prefer.13 Three or four days before the departure, Kerensky advised the Romanovs to take more warm clothes with them because he did not like the idea of them suffering in the cold weather ahead.14 This led to speculation that they were being sent to somewhere in Siberia – and, of course, they were right.

The plan was for the Romanovs to leave Tsarskoe Selo at dead of night, at eleven o’clock on 13 August. Kerensky addressed the military contingent that Kobylinski had assembled. He spoke with his usual emotional intensity:

You have been in charge of guarding the imperial family here. Now you have to take over the guarding in Tobolsk, where the imperial family is being transferred by decree of the Council of Ministers. Remember: nobody hits a man when he’s down on the ground. Behave decently and not outrageously. Supplies will be issued at the Petrograd district rate. Tobacco and soap will be provided to you in person. You’ll be paid on a daily basis.

Kerensky, who had so many other preoccupations, declined to visit all the regiments that contributed troops. Some of these regiments were worse equipped in matters of uniform than others, and Kobylinski noted that some of the men had grown careless in looking after their appearance and displayed low morale. He regretted Kerensky’s inattentiveness to this process, and he later contended that this was to have consequences in the months after departure from Tsarskoe Selo.17

Nicholas’s brother Mikhail arrived at the palace to bid them farewell. He had heard only by chance about the planned departure and hurried to see what was happening. There was a rumour that Kerensky had Kostroma in mind as the destination.18 When Kerensky turned up at midnight, he prohibited Mikhail from meeting his brother.19 But he soon relented and gave permission, taking the sole precaution of staying in the room along with his ensign and giving the order: ‘Talk to each other!’20 The Tsarevich meanwhile positioned himself behind the door to catch what his Uncle Mimi and his father were saying.21 The conversation lasted ten minutes and was mainly about health matters.22 Nicholas later told Sophie Buxhoeveden about this:

Imagine, Kerensky had only just arrived with Misha. We were so emotional that we couldn’t get things off our chests. Kerensky, covering his ears with his hands, sat at the end of my office. My brother said quietly, ‘You’ve understood me.’ I didn’t understand his actions but what was there to say to him at that point? So I said: ‘God keep you.’ We embraced.23

The family was beset with nerves, and Dr Botkin took it upon himself to go round with a bottle of pills to calm them.25 The retinue made their way to the railway station but nobody else arrived from the Alexander Palace for several hours. Provisions for five days were loaded on to the train, and the imperial party guessed that Siberia must be the destination.26 The first sign of action came at six in the morning with the appearance of a limousine carrying Kerensky and Kobylinski. Kobylinski carried a piece of paper that stated: ‘Obey the orders of Colonel Kobylinski like my own. Alexander Kerensky.’27 Also in his possession was a substantial sum of money for the employment and upkeep of the imperial family and retinue: Kerensky intended them to live in comfort at their destination.28

A unit of troops stood with their rifles at the ready. Otherwise the station was deserted, for the transfer of the Romanovs was being kept a secret. Kerensky behaved with complete propriety, as if there had been no February Revolution. To Nicholas, he said simply: ‘Goodbye, Your Highness.’ As he always did, he kissed Alexandra’s hand.29 Accompanying the family on the way to the platform were Dolgorukov, Benkendorf and a group of dedicated officers. There were two trains, with the Romanovs together in the first. Vershinin boarded to act as Kerensky’s eyes and ears. Also present was Ensign Efimov for the Tsarskoe Selo garrison – Kerensky had to cover himself against any suspicion of doing something against the interests of the revolution.30 A separate compartment was reserved for each Romanov as well as for each of their retainers, and there was a special dining car.31 It was already light on 14 August when steam was built up in the engines and a start could be made. The hours of waiting were over and the Romanovs began to relax and look forward to peace and quiet at their destination.

The trains headed in the direction of Perm in the Urals. The leading engine, in a bizarre attempt to deflect notice, was draped with a Japanese flag. This only excited untoward attention. Railwaymen’s Union activists boarded the train and made a fuss until Vershinin waved a copy of Kerensky’s orders at them.32 There were stops at tiny stations on the line where, in daytime, the Romanovs were allowed out of their compartment to stretch their legs. But no halting was allowed in towns and cities.33 En route the former empress insisted on taking her meals alone with the tsarevich in her coupé.34 The rest of the family were more open to making the best of the experience, an experience of life in the depths of Russia that was new to all of them. When Sydney Gibbes in the following weeks asked Anastasia to compose an account in English, she wrote about how the train came to a stop mid-journey near a small house and a little boy approached the Romanov carriage and asked her for a newspaper. He addressed her as ‘uncle’. Anastasia sweetly replied that she had no newspaper; she pointed out that she was an aunty, not an uncle. Then she remembered that she had had her hair cut and looked less obviously feminine than usual – the encounter caused a ripple of mirth among the soldiers standing nearby.35

In the evening of 17 August the train pulled in to Tyumen.36 The Romanov party alighted and transferred, still under escort, to two ferries, the Rus and the Kormilets. The former was the more comfortable, and it was this vessel that carried the imperial family down the river to Tobolsk. On the way north, the ship passed the little settlement of Pokrovskoe. This drew forth a wistful recollection from the empress: ‘This is where Grigori Efimovich [Rasputin] lived. It was on this river that he used to catch fish and sometimes he brought them to us in Tsarskoe Selo.’37

On 19 August, when the steamer reached the quayside at Tobolsk, Makarov and Vershinin took Alexei Volkov from the retinue and went off to inspect Governor’s House, which could provide the space, comfort and seclusion that Kerensky wished to secure for the imperial family. Before the February Revolution it had been occupied by Nikolai Ordovski-Tanaevski as governor of the province. Across the road was a large town house belonging to a merchant called Kornilov, and it was there that most members of the Romanov retinue were intended to live.38 Makarov and his companions found that next to no preparations had been made for the arrival of the Romanov party and that the building was a dirty mess. Volkov asked for substantial refurbishment before the Romanovs moved in. Makarov and Vershinin agreed and the Romanovs were permitted to stay on board the steamer for a week until the work was completed.39 The town’s inhabitants crowded the quayside in the hope of getting a sighting of the celebrities.40 Kerensky continued to keep the Romanovs in mind. He ordered Makarov and Vershinin to ensure that lady-in-waiting Margarita Khitrovo got nowhere near Governor’s House. Other visitors from Petrograd should also be stopped.41