Petrograd, Russia
July 1917
The early morning July sun started to pierce through the thin curtains in his office as the new prime minister, Alexander Kerensky, continued going over his paperwork. He remained very concerned over the recent demonstrations in Petrograd and the growing influence of the Bolsheviks. We were lucky this time, he thought to himself. Those ruffians nearly pulled off a coup the other week. At least we drove that scoundrel Lenin into hiding, somewhere outside of Russia, I am told. We need to be better prepared. His personal secretary opened the door, interrupting his thoughts, and announced, “They’re here, Prime Minister.” Kerensky stood and ordered that the new arrivals be brought into the office.
Colonel Eugene Kobylinsky, a tall and distinguished-looking member of the Russian army, entered the room. He had been assigned by the Provisional Government to oversee the confinement of the former imperial family at Tsarskoe Selo. At his side stood the former Tsar of Russia, Nicholas II, who was now simply called Citizen Romanov. Both men wore military garb, but the contrast in their sizes accentuated the diminished status of Nicholas Romanov. “Sit down, please,” ordered the prime minister.
Nicholas had been concerned all morning about this meeting. What could the prime minister want with him? Why had he been summoned to Petrograd? Nicholas fidgeted uneasily in his seat, staring at the man who now controlled Russia. He’s a distinguished, professorial-looking man, Nicholas thought when Kerensky started to speak. “Citizen Nicholas Romanov,” began Kerensky, “I ordered you here today to inform you of two developments that have great impact on you and your family. I felt it best to tell you these things face-to-face.”
“Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister,” replied Nicholas in a low, even voice.
“First, there is a dramatic change in the status of your future residence. Your cousin, King George of England, has refused your request for asylum in Great Britain.”
“What?” blurted out the former Tsar, stunned by the news. He had been certain his cousin would welcome him and his family with open arms. His family had long been planning an idyllic retirement in the English countryside. “How can this be?”
“I’m not one hundred percent certain. I believe it has to do with the labor unrest in England. I suppose he fears that by taking a former autocrat who is considered an enemy of the working class into his country, perhaps his kingdom would also be overthrown. I’m not entirely sure, but it is irrelevant. You will not be going to England, Citizen Romanov.
“This certainly complicates matters, and not only for you. My government is fighting off the extreme left-wing lunatics that are threatening us. Last week, we nearly had a coup d’état. As a result of all of this turmoil, I no longer believe it is safe for you and your family to remain in this region. You see, unlike the Bolsheviks and their ilk, we are not savages. We believe in the rule of law.”
Kerensky paused to pour himself a glass of water. As he did, Nicholas began to speak. “Mr. Prime Minister, I have a request. If I am to remain in Russia, I would like to request that my family and I be allowed to retire to the Crimea, to live in the Livadia Palace on the Black Sea. I believe this would suit us well.” As he spoke, he thought of the many happy times that they had there. Even when he was Tsar, he always had a yearning to retire to Livadia Palace and live the life of a country gentleman.
“Your request is denied,” shot back the prime minister. “I say this not out of any sense of cruelty or vindictiveness. I say it out of a sense of practicality. We cannot provide adequate security in the Crimea. No, Citizen Romanov, we are sending you to Siberia, to Tobolsk. It is peaceful there, there is no real industry, and hence no workers or radicals. We have a government detachment there that can provide security. Lastly, Tobolsk has an appropriate residence for you and your family, given your status as a former ruler of this great country.”
Nicholas sat there, taking in the news. It bitterly disappointed him that his cousin had rejected him. This news totally caught him off guard. He thought about Tobolsk, a place he knew well. The family would probably do quite well there. The situation could be much worse than the solution that Kerensky had proposed. “How long will we be in Tobolsk?” he asked.
“I don’t know. If the situation here in Russia calms a bit, I would say at least six months to a year.”
“When would you have us leave, Prime Minister?”
“In less than two weeks. That is all I have to tell you today. Colonel Kobylinsky, take the prisoner back to Tsarskoe Selo immediately.” With that, the two visitors stood and began to walk to the door. As they did, Kerensky called out, “Citizen Romanov!”
Turning around, Nicholas replied, “Yes, Prime Minister?”
Standing, Kerensky stared directly at Nicholas and said, “Make no mistake about this, Citizen Romanov. If these radicals such as the Bolsheviks get their hands on you and your family, they will surely kill you all.”