Alexander II_ The Last Great Tsar - Edvard Radzinsky [100]
Although they are touched, they immediately ask him to bend the truth so that no suspicion should arise that the abdication was torn from him: they ask him to put down not the true hour when he signed it but when he himself came to this decision. And he agrees. He signs: “March 2, 15:00”—although by the clock it is already midnight.
Later there is another lie: they propose that the new prime minister, Prince Lvov, be appointed by the sovereign himself. “Ah, Lvov? Well, all right, so be it, Lvov.” He signs that as well. He is doing almost everything mechanically. All his thoughts are at Tsarskoe Selo.
Nicholas’s diary:
“2 March [continuation].… They sent the draft manifesto from Headquarters. In the evening Guchkov and Shulgin arrived from Petrograd. Spoke with them and gave them the signed and revised manifesto. At 1 in the morning left Pskov with the heavy sense of what I had been through. Am surrounded by betrayal, cowardice, and deceit.”
Having signed the manifesto, he could leave immediately for Tsarskoe Selo. To everyone’s surprise, though, he returned to Headquarters, to Mogilev.
It may have been too much for him to see her and the children right after his downfall. He may have wanted to give them time to get used to the situation. Also, he had to say goodbye to the army. There was a war in progress, and he discharged his duties as commander-in-chief to the end.
In the very depths of his soul, though, he may still have held out hope. She might suddenly turn out to be right: loyal troops could rise up and a miracle could happen. He did not want to return to Tsarskoe Selo like this, laid low.
Also, he had to say goodbye to his mother.
On March 3 he returned to Headquarters. No one knew how he should be met or indeed whether he should be met at all. Naturally, though, Alexeyev decided to greet him as usual. His generals formed up in the special pavilion for meeting the tsar’s trains. They waited in silence. Only the sarcastic Sergei Mikhailovich spoke, discussing the conduct of another grand duke, Kirill, “calling things by their proper names.”
The imperial train approached. No one got out. Finally, one of the servants emerged and called to Alexeyev, who disappeared after him into the train car. Everyone waited.
Then Nicholas appeared—with a new face: yellow skin stretched across his temples, distinct bags under his eyes. Behind him was Count Fredericks: carefully clean-shaven and erect as always. The tsar (the former tsar now) began his review by greeting each and every one of them as usual.
“3 March. Friday. Slept long and hard. Woke up long past Dvinsk. The day was sunny and freezing.… Read a lot about Julius Caesar. At 8.20 arrived in Mogilev. All the staff officers were on the platform. Received Alexeyev in my car. At 9.30 moved to the house. Alexeyev came with the latest news from Rodzianko. Misha, it turns out, has abdicated. His manifesto ends with a four-line addendum about elections for a Constituent Assembly in 6 months. God knows who gave him the idea of signing such rot! The riots have stopped in Petrograd—if only things would continue like this.”
A new world was drawing near.
The abdication in favor of Michael did not work out. Nor could it have: the