The bloody ambush wasn’t long in coming! Absolutism has been forced into firing on its own ironclad ships to send them up in flames, and into bombing its own barracks. The disciplined lads in Sevastopol have been crushed in a dreadful fight—crews who followed repeated official instructions received through the tsarist government canaille† to maintain absolute peace and order, men who didn’t initiate the slightest disturbance! This time the pack of rogues didn’t even have the time or opportunity to stage, through their footmen—pick-pockets, pimps, and spies—an orgy of violence, the responsibility for which they could have then pinned onto the “mutinous” sailors. Not a trace of “guilt” can be found on the blank signs of the revolutionary dictatorship in Sevastopol. The banner was flying, in broad daylight, for the political and revolutionary rising against the nagaika regime. And it was for this crime alone that the cowardly band of runaways from Liuyang, Shenyang, and Port Arthur‡ suffocated their own people in Sevastopol under a sea of blood, in a naked and public duel to preserve their own criminal existence!
The Sevastopol rising has fallen in the same way that the Potemkin and Kronstadt risings have fallen. But their fall has shaken the pillars of absolutism like Samson shook the pillars of his prison. We may still need a few more crushed risings, but the whole building of old, tsarist Russia will collapse, in the end, down onto the stupid canaille and their forfeited heads.
The figure of a man is rising, in revolutionary glory, out of the foundation of Sevastopol’s stupendous rebellion, a man, who though yesterday was barely known in public, now appears as one of those heroes who only reveal their greatness in revolutionary times, and, confronted by gigantic moments, are tossed up on to the peak of things.
Barely ten days have passed since Lieutenant Schmidt suddenly became a beloved and popular people’s tribune,§ at a most unexpected occasion. Tellingly, this occasion was the day of the funeral for the victims of the most recent tsarist constitutional manifesto.
The funeral in Sevastopol on October 20 was extraordinary, with inhabitants from the whole municipality taking part. Peaceful residents were buried, who had organized a peaceful action in front of the prison in the night in which the tsarist manifesto was announced, resulting in troops shooting them. Order at the funerals was maintained impeccably, despite the tens of thousands in the crowd. Thanks to an energetic intervention by the city council, military and police were not present. After the dead had been given up unto the earth, and the mayor and others had held excellent speeches, Marine Lieutenant [Pyotr] Schmidt walked up to the grave. His appearance heightened the concentration among the thick mass of crowd, several thousand strong, crammed together on the neighboring hill. In the few days of “freedom” that had just passed, Schmidt had proven himself to be a political agitator and first-class speaker, deserving of great hopes. Although not a city councilor, the mayor had invited Schmidt to take part in meetings, and this advisory voice of his had won him popularity in the city in no time at all. Schmidt displayed a vibrant efficacy in this new function; he had already initiated political meetings among the intelligentsia prior to the manifesto. After a deathly silence had descended, the speaker began in a quiet voice, exhausted from his grueling and relentless agitation work, and moved by deep convictions:
It is behooving, at the graveside, only to offer prayers, but prayers are equal to the words of love and the holy oath that I want to take with you here today. When joy filled the souls of the deceased at whose graves we stand through the rising sun of freedom, their next impulse was to hurry as fast as possible to those languishing in prison, who had fought for freedom, and who now, in the hour of huge and widespread exultation were denied this greatest possession. They hurried to tell the prisoners of the glad tidings they were bearing. They requested their release and were killed for this request. They wanted to share this highest of life’s possessions—freedom—and were robbed of their lives for doing so … Terrible and unprecedented crime! Huge and irredeemable suffering! And now their souls are gazing down at us and ask, silently, “What will you do with this possession, of which we have been robbed forever? How will you make use of your freedom? Can you promise us that we’ll be the last victims of despotism?” And we must calm the restless souls of the deceased, we must promise them that. And I swear to them, his voice sounding out louder, that we’ll never give up so much of an inch of the human rights we have won for ourselves!*
I swear, said the speaker, his hand raised, I swear, resounded many thousands of voices. We promise them, that we will devote our whole work, our whole soul and even our lives for the retention of our freedom. I swear! I swear! repeated the crowd. We promise them, that we’ll devote all our force, our life in its entirety to the working and destitute people! I swear!—I swear!—rang out the crowd’s reply. Sobs could be heard. “We promise, that from this point on there will no longer be Jew or Armenian or Tatar among us, but that we will be equal and free brothers of the great and free Russia. I swear!” And the “I swear” repeated by the people rolled all around the surrounding hills. We promise them, that we will see this thing through and obtain universal and equal suffrage for everyone! I swear! And the people shouted threateningly: “I swear!”
And in front of the people stood no longer a speaker but a mighty tribune, who the 10,000-strong crowd was prepared to follow. “We promise them”—the words like ore from the lips of the speaker—“that if we are not granted universal suffrage, then we’ll declare the general strike in Russia. I swear!” the speaker concluded. “I swear!” sounded like thunder over the earth. The speaker had finished; he was kissed and embraced. A simple soldier wrapped his arms around his neck, forgetting all discipline and the speaker’s officer’s rank. Schmidt disappeared into the crowd. That same evening Lieutenant Schmidt was taken prisoner on order of the commanding officer General Chukhnin, and transferred like a criminal with a cloth over him to the ironclad ship Tri Sviatitelia. Six days later, the ironclad Tri Sviatitelia hoisted the red banner of the revolution.
Lieutenant Schmidt is lying fatally wounded. He fell as a true Tribune of the People, as the tough pioneer of the Russian proletariat. The international proletariat will follow his call to decisively settle accounts with every form of oppression and servitude endured by the poor and the exploited, and, by contemplating the heroic Russian sacrifices at the Battle of Sevastopol.
Slovo [The Word], a Petersburg publication, carries the following report about the Battle of Sevastopol: The same naval officer Schmidt discussed above was declared commanding officer of the revolutionary forces by the mutineers. Admiral Chukhnin, commanding officer of the Black Sea Fleet was in charge of the loyal government forces. As the battle began, the mutineers appeared to have the better chances of victory by far. The revolutionary commanding officer Schmidt united ten warships and three northern forts on land under his command. The remainder of the fleet, the southern forts, and the coastal artillery kept faith with their oath of duty.
The mutineers opened heavy fire onto the city at 3 p.m. Because there was no return fire whatsoever, the mutineers were convinced they had taken the city. Schmidt sent two parliamentarians with a white flag to Admiral Chukhnin to demand his surrender. Chukhnin had both emissaries of the revolutionaries arrested(!), and then ordered his side to open fire against the mutineers. For the next two hours, from 3:30 to 5:30 p.m., a proper battle ensued, both on land and at sea. While the ten warships under Schmidt’s command bombarded the city, the revolutionary sailors and troops proceeded from the Lazarev barracks, which they had barricaded themselves into, in order to attack the city from the landward side. The use of artillery caused devastation on both sides. The projectiles from the mutineer’s warships fell on the city, destroying many houses and killing numerous persons on the streets. The inhabitants fled into basements and other safe hiding holes. The mutineers appeared to be aiming at public buildings; it was the admiralty offices that incurred most damage. Several churches were also completely demolished, probably because their towers offered an easy target.
Elsewhere, the southern forts supported by the so-called coastal artillery were successful in their fire against the revolutionary fleet. The Ochakov, a cruise ship that the mutineers had taken, was hit at several places below the waterline and started to burn.
According to a dispatch from the Publisher’s Press in Odessa, the ship sank soon after the end of the battle. Dnepr, a warship, and a separate torpedo boat were also hit by numerous shots and, after an hour, they sank. The battleship Panteleimon (formerly Potemkin) was badly damaged.
Schmidt himself was fatally wounded and surrendered with his ships at 5:30 pm.* Meanwhile, two loyal government regiments had forced back the sailors from the Lazarev barracks incurring serious losses, and then went on the attack against the three northern forts that were in the hands of the mutineers. Both regiments stormed the forts and captured them with a bayonet charge. Large numbers of mutineers lost their lives in this hand-to-hand fighting.
The official version of this carnage was as follows. Petersburg, November 30. Report in from Sevastopol, yesterday, at 3 p.m., the Black Sea squadron that had joined in common cause with the Ochakov cruiser, and had replaced the saltire with the red flag, was ordered to surrender by signals from the shore. The answer was a refusal. At which the artillery batteries on the north side received the order to open fire on the squadron; however, these batteries had also decided to make common cause with the squadron and started to open fire on the city, especially on the batteries on the south side. (A malicious lie, naturally. The rebellious squadron had absolutely no reason to fire at “the city.”) Lieutenant Schmidt commanded the squadron. Half of the city is destroyed, but the squadron has also suffered badly. The Ochakov and the Dnester were run onto a sandbank, and the Potemkin is badly damaged. Several torpedo boats have also run aground. The Brest Regiment undertook an assault against the artillery batteries in order to silence them. After Lieutenant Schmidt was fatally wounded at 5 p.m., the mutineers surrendered.
THE ECHO
The Petersburg correspondent of the Daily Telegraph reported that a new mutiny had broken out in Liepāja. A new mutiny is also reported to be underway in Kronstadt.*
IN PETERSBURG
The Berliner Tageblatt has received the following: The chief of police in the city has ordered the Cossacks to continue disarming the workers, resulting in lots of bloody clashes. Danger is fermenting among the postal workers, and a widespread strike has been repressed only through use of military violence.
Petersburg, November 30. No news from the provinces at present, because communication lines have been completely destroyed. The workers have stated that the political, general strike will commence on Monday, December 4.