The convoy was set up with an eye towards being ready for any violence on the way to Tyumen. Yakovlev had received no information about Zaslavski’s whereabouts and had to prepare for the worst. And as an ex-bank robber and former denizen of the revolutionary underground, he knew how to make plans. In the first tarantass he seated two riflemen with guns at the ready; in the second there was a machine-gunner. These three soldiers constituted a vanguard with orders to fire on any attackers. Yakovlev and Nicholas would travel in the fourth tarantass, Alexandra and Maria in the sixth. Dolgorukov and Botkin were allocated to the ninth and Tatishchev to the twelfth. Under cover of darkness and with the minimum of noise, the Romanovs’ trunks were loaded on to carriages thirteen to fifteen.1 The tension spread to all involved. When everyone was at last on board, the order was given for the off. The former Emperor of All Russia, his wife and one of his daughters were on their way.
Even at this moment, Yakovlev refused to divulge the destination, and Nicholas and Alexandra continued to fret about the son they were leaving behind. But the weather was sharp and there was little time to brood. As horses and tarantasses passed through the town, there could be no doubt that a party of some size was on the move. Just before the party disappeared from sight, Gibbes took a long-exposure picture of the empress’s vehicle.2 Already in the far distance were the five horsemen whom Yakovlev had sent in advance to spy out each of the planned stages of the route – they were ordered to be ready to report in person as soon as the convoy came in view.3
Yakovlev set a rattling pace and refused to stop for tea breaks. If the travellers and their escort wanted a drink, they had to wait for the overnight stop or take a gulp of water as they rode along.4 The road that took them south was rough and muddy at that time of year, making progress uncomfortable. A biting cold wind had been blowing for hours and the wheels were soon iced up. Each carriage lost a wheel or was otherwise badly damaged at some point. Yakovlev arranged for four changes of horses on the first day before they halted at Ievlevo as dusk fell. The convoy had covered eighty-six miles, which included a difficult crossing of the deep waters of the River Irtysh. The Romanovs and their attendants, stoical but exhausted, were thankful to discover that Yakovlev had found a large, clean house for the night. Not having been to bed for two nights, all three of them were soon fast asleep.5
Yakovlev, however, could not afford to rest. Avdeev had followed him to Ievlevo with an armed force on orders from Yakovlev himself to commandeer a train in Tyumen for the onward shipment of the Romanovs.6 But their encounter at Ievlevo involved angry exchanges with some of Avdeev’s men, and Yakovlev decided to take one of them into custody.7 It had become clear that a plot had been laid to disarm the convoy and seize the Romanovs and that Zaslavski and Khokhryakov were behind it and were getting ready to strike. Yakovlev cabled Didkovski and Goloshchëkin to remonstrate about what he had discovered: ‘Take rapid measures or there will be bloodshed. Inform Tyumen in detail. Zaslavski secretly slunk out of Tobolsk; I did not manage to arrest him. I am departing Ievlevo.’ Yakovlev asked for Tyumen Soviet chairman, Nemtsov, to prepare everything for the convoy’s arrival; he ordered his own units to meet him en route.8 Instructions were issued for a start to be made at 5 a.m. the following morning. In fact, Yakovlev was so tired that he overslept, and the convoy started later than scheduled.9
Nicholas observed what was happening as best he could, but Yakovlev did not tell him much. After interrogating the arrested Ekaterinburg soldier, Yakovlev knew that trouble could still lie ahead. Yakovlev did not want to agitate the Romanovs and kept his thoughts of danger to himself.10
The tarantasses and carts moved off with fresh horses on the second day. Everyone had to dismount to cross the River Tobol. Nicholas, sociable as ever, got acquainted with Yakovlev’s friend and deputy Pëtr Guzakov in order to discover their current intentions. The weather had changed and it was a bright, warm day, but the going remained severe. It was dusty on the roads and muddy in the woods. The carriages shook the passengers, which gave Nicholas some concern about his wife’s health.11 Seated next to Yakovlev for hours, he could not but engage in some conversation. This led to some surprises for Yakovlev, especially when Nicholas claimed to believe in complete freedom of conscience in matters of religion. Yakovlev at first did not know whether he was joking or pretending. Memories of the persecution of Jews before 1917 came to mind. Nicholas looked at him with such a clear face that Yakovlev reckoned that he meant what he said.12
Yakovlev changed the convoy after crossing the Tobol and sat in the same tarantass as his deputy Pëtr Guzakov while Chudinov, who headed the detachment, took Yakovlev’s place next to Nicholas. Conversation was next to impossible as they shielded themselves from the violent mud spray as the tarantass pounded along. Nicholas took out his porte-cigare and offered Chudinov a cigarette. Chudinov declined, but when they had a restful moment, Nicholas tried again and asked: ‘What military school did your commissar train at?’ Chudinov replied: ‘As far as I know, he only studied at an electrical technical school in Belgium.’ Nicholas remarked: ‘Yes, it’s obvious that he’s seen some sights. He’s a commissar with a bit of pepper about him.’13 Despite the physical demands, the journey was exciting for everyone. Chudinov would recall talking to a grey-bearded peasant on the way at one of the places where they changed the horses:
Peasant: Young fellow, would you kindly tell me in God’s name where they’re taking our good tsar [tsar’-batyushka]? Is it to Moscow?
Chudinov: To Moscow, grandad, to Moscow!
And as they left the same staging post, Chudinov heard someone else say: ‘Now, glory be, there is going to be order!’14 It is not clear whether the bystander wanted Nicholas to be punished or to resume power. This vagueness was not unknown at a time when few Russians had a clear idea about how to bring stability and prosperity to their country.
Changes of horses followed a set procedure. Chudinov called out to the horseman left behind earlier in the village, and the fresh mounts were brought out. Usually this took no more than five minutes.15 Pokrovskoe was one of the most memorable staging posts. As chance had it, the new horses were hitched up directly outside the Rasputin home. The Romanovs were touched to notice the whole family of their deceased friend watching from indoors. No contact was allowed, and Chudinov aimed his Mauser pistol at the house to ensure compliance. But the story spread that Rasputin’s wife and mother had crossed themselves and prayed as the travellers paused nearby. As soon as fresh horses had been hitched, the convoy pressed on at full speed.16
Every day was a test of Yakovlev’s durability. Sverdlov had given him the task of taking the Romanovs safely to the Urals and yet it was Urals Bolshevik leaders who at every turn were conspiring against his efforts. Yakovlev felt that he was the only official who was fulfilling Moscow’s wishes. After crossing the River Irtysh, Yakovlev held a rendezvous with his deputy, Pëtr Guzakov, who had some disturbing news. Guzakov had earlier run into Gusyatski, deputy commander of the Ekaterinburg troops who had left Tobolsk in advance of Yakovlev’s party. This time Yakovlev had an especially good reason to worry because Gusyatski had let slip to Guzakov that a plot indeed existed to waylay the convoy and kill Nicholas. This confirmed what Yakovlev had suspected throughout the trip. He was furious, and when he met with Gusyatski, he told him that he would not hesitate to execute him and his entire military unit if they fired so much as a single shot.17
This was not the end of the matter. Alexander Nevolin from the Ekaterinburg Red Guards secretly approached him that evening and revealed that the plot remained an active one. According to Nevolin, Gusyatski had told his troops that Yakovlev planned to transport the Romanovs to Moscow and enable them to proceed into foreign exile. Gusyatski’s counter-plan was to take Nicholas to Ekaterinburg instead. Some of his troops expressed disquiet when Gusyatski talked about aiming to ambush the Romanov convoy and made plain that he expected to liquidate not only Nicholas but also Yakovlev and his detachment. Nevolin had asked: ‘So it is that we’re going to be brigands?’ A rancorous dispute ensued in which Gusyatski was annoyed to see that Nevolin carried a lot of support, and Nevolin, fearing for his life, crept off to Yakovlev’s detachment.18
Yakovlev started early next morning, again setting a hectic pace. Kobylinski had given orders for the detachment to keep him informed about progress, and Nabokov telegrammed from Pokrovskoe that everything was going well.19 This was accurate only in relation to the number of miles covered because the passengers and most of their military escort were reaching the point of exhaustion. At a rutted spot on the road, the tarantass carrying Alexandra and Maria broke down and they took shelter in a nearby hut until a replacement could be fetched.20 A last change of horses took place at the village of Borki. By then Dr Botkin was suffering from swollen kidneys, which led to a decision to leave him behind to recover before moving on. At Borki, the convoy had tea and some titbits of food at the schoolhouse. For once, Yakovlev was taking his time to organize the eighth and final stage of the journey to Tyumen. With his worries about what might wait ahead, he told his men to be ready for any eventuality and then ordered the long ride into Tyumen. A beautiful moon had risen before the convoy reached the town at 9.15 p.m.21
Sixteen cavalrymen of the detachment’s advance party were sent ten miles downriver from Tyumen to rendezvous with Yakovlev. Their leader, who was named Permyakov, urged them onward: ‘Let the former Tsar see the discipline and might of the Red Army, the freest army in the world!’22 He spoke with the personal authority of a man who had used troops to disarm the Tyumen Red Guards after a series of robberies.23 As the convoy and its reinforcements approached the town’s outskirts, an additional escort of around fifty men rode out to form a protective chain.24 Darkness enveloped the scene as the party crossed the Irtysh by a movable bridge and came to the railway station.25
Sergei Markov, who had moved to Tyumen after failing to liberate the Romanovs in Tobolsk, believed that if only a determined attempt could be made, there was still a good chance of rescuing the family. Resourceful and optimistic as always, he had infiltrated the Red Army by posing as a Soviet sympathizer, and such was his obvious competence that he received command over seventy military recruits. He certainly had the audacity to chance his arm. And it is even possible that he could have successfully tricked his men into mounting an attack on Yakovlev’s convoy. Whether he could have gone on to pull off a rescue is doubtful – and the Romanovs might all too easily have perished in the crossfire. In any case, he was no longer free to act. In early April, the Tobolsk Soviet authorities, suspecting that his true loyalties did not lie with Sovnarkom, threw him into prison. It was from a cell that he learned about Nicholas’s arrival.26 Even so, there was enough uncertainty in the local situation for Yakovlev to continue to act with caution. The anti-Bolshevik Markov might be securely detained, but who was to say that he lacked accomplices still at large? And where, oh where, was the Bolshevik Zaslavski and his men-at-arms?
A train was waiting for Yakovlev and the Romanovs at Tyumen’s railway station. There were only four carriages, one first-class and three third-class.27 The prospective passengers, exhausted by their journey, were thankful to get down from the three tarantasses. Their testing ride was over and they had survived it. They disapproved of the state of the compartments, which nobody had bothered to wipe and sweep clean,28 but they made no complaint. At least they were not going to be jolted in their seats all day, and they would know where they would sleep that night. At 10 p.m. they sank into their beds.29
While this was happening, Yakovlev consulted Moscow on the Hughes apparatus.30 He left Avdeev on the train with strict orders not to leave it, ostensibly because someone with authority needed to supervise the Romanovs. But Avdeev did not like the idea of Yakovlev talking to Moscow without the presence of a witness. When Avdeev climbed down on to the platform to accompany him, however, Yakovlev’s men bodily stopped him. Turning to Guzakov, he asked: ‘What, does this mean I’m arrested?’ When it was made clear that Yakovlev was to be left alone at the apparatus, Avdeev passed a note through the carriage window to his comrade Ivan Loginov telling him to inform Ekaterinburg about what was happening – something Guzakov in this instance allowed.31
Yakovlev begged Sverdlov to sanction a change of plan on the grounds that the Ekaterinburg leadership could not be trusted. Their representatives in Tobolsk had clearly intended to annihilate ‘the baggage’; they had even urged him not to sit in a carriage beside any of the Romanovs. Their objective had obviously been to attack the travelling party before it arrived in Tyumen. Yakovlev had thwarted their purpose by deploying troops of his own along the entire route. But the armed units from Ekaterinburg continued to put him under intimidating pressure. He warned that an action of some kind might take place before the train reached Ekaterinburg. According to Yakovlev, Goloshchëkin was the sole Urals leader who did not want to kill ‘the baggage’. It would therefore be madness to proceed with the original plan. Instead he requested permission to make for Omsk. From there, he indicated, he would take a westbound train on the southern loop of the rail network through to the River Sim mining district, where he knew that he could find a place of safe confinement. Otherwise he could give no guarantee of safety for his Romanov charges.32
Sverdlov, comfortably seated at his Hughes telegraph apparatus in Moscow and laden with countless other tasks, enquired whether his old comrade was not a trifle overanxious. After his experience since Tobolsk, Yakovlev stood by every word of his alert. He was asking not for pity but for common sense to prevail. If he had to stick to the old plan, the consequences could be disastrous. Faced by such determination, Sverdlov sanctioned the change of destination and promised to issue fresh instructions when Yakovlev presented himself to the West Siberian Soviet Regional Executive chairman Viktor Kosarev in Omsk.33
Yakovlev himself sent a cable to Goloshchëkin with an angry complaint about Zaslavski, Khokhryakov and Gusyatski. Trusting in Goloshchëkin’s good faith, he expressed doubt that he had been initiated into the mischief being planned by his Urals comrades. Zaslavski, Yakovlev felt sure, was plotting to waylay the train before it reached Ekaterinburg. The plotters had failed to achieve their objective between Tobolsk and Tyumen; they would now make their attempt on the train journey from Tyumen to the Urals capital. Yakovlev told Goloshchëkin that he was determined to resist ‘these young boys’ by force; he stressed that he was carrying out Sovnarkom’s orders, and asked for Goloshchëkin’s assistance.34 He knew that it might not be enough to have written approval from Sverdlov in distant Moscow. If he could, he wanted to get the Urals Regional Soviet Executive Committee to call off Zaslavski’s dogs of war. But he still intended to avoid going to Ekaterinburg if he could. Sverdlov had told him to enter consultations on reaching Omsk. For Yakovlev, this was better than being told to go to Ekaterinburg but still not satisfactory. There was still a lot to play for, and he would play as hard as he always had done.
After Yakovlev came back to the train, he told his subordinates: ‘We’re off to Omsk and from there via Chelyabinsk to the Ust-Katav works in the Sim district.’ When Avdeev made objections and refused to go, Yakovlev faced him down. Yakovlev had met tougher men than Avdeev and his physical courage was indisputable. He told Avdeev that Sverdlov himself had laid down that he had to travel. Avdeev made a last effort at resistance by demanding an explanation as to why Yakovlev had confined him to the train. Yakovlev replied simply that someone had to keep the Romanovs under constant surveillance. Only then did Avdeev comply.35 Not only was party discipline paramount for every Bolshevik, but also Avdeev had no means to consult his comrades in Ekaterinburg. Moscow’s orders trumped all other considerations and Yakovlev was playing his cards with his usual panache. For the moment it seemed that it did not matter if the Urals communist leadership disapproved.