Alexander II_ The Last Great Tsar - Edvard Radzinsky [48]
In June 1906 the Duma repealed the death penalty. But while Europe was sending congratulatory telegrams, Nicholas was passing a law on field courts-martial.
The hangman set about his work. Not since the time of Ivan the Terrible had Russia seen so many executions.
When Witte reminded the former liberal Stolypin of his previous views, the minister replied: “Yes, that was how I used to feel. Before the explosion on Aptekarsky Island.”
——
On August 26, 1907, the sovereign “royally saw fit to instruct that troop commanders be informed” that they must “see to it” that the tsar not receive any telegrams requesting pardons.
In the time of Nicholas’s father, Alexander Ulyanov had been hanged for attempting to assassinate the tsar. This punishment was instrumental in shaping the character of his brother, the future leader of the revolution, Vladimir Ulyanov: Lenin. Execution and blood infiltrated his subconscious.
Under Nicholas, brothers and sisters of the slain all across Russia swore their hatred for the tsar.
“I don’t want to die at all: at night they’re taken out into the back courtyard, even in the wet, in the rain. By the time they get there they’re soaked through, and that’s how they’re hanged, wet.… You get up in the morning and you’re as happy as a child to be alive, to have an entire day ahead of you to enjoy life”—these were the kinds of letters families were reading.
In blood he became heir, in blood he was tsar, this gentle man. Bloody Sunday. Bloody Khodynka. The blood of the First Revolution. Like an omen of what was to come: his unlucky son’s strength was draining away with his loss of blood.
The First Revolution ended. They had had a remarkable rehearsal for the future, for what would happen twelve years later. But the warning passed them right by.
He and Alix never did understand that the revolution had been subdued not by bullets but by the words on the paper that his minister had written and that Nicholas had signed. They imagined a different lesson for themselves instead: force is necessary.
Wise Witte realized then that this would be their ruin. Sitting in his study and contemplating the events of the era, the old man wrote these terrible words:
“Much blood may be shed, and you yourself could perish in that blood.… And it may kill your own firstborn, your pure infant, your son and heir.… God grant this not be so. In any event that I never see such horrors.”
God did: Witte died in January 1915. Before his death the old man wrote Nicholas a letter and instructed that it be given to the sovereign after his death. Thus Nicholas received Witte’s message from beyond the grave.
In his letter, Witte asked the tsar to give his title of count to his “most beloved grandson, L. K. Naryshkin. Let him be called Naryshkin, Count Witte.” But this was only a pretext. The most important part came after his request. It was a rundown of Nicholas’s greatest deeds, which also happened to be linked with the name of Witte. In first place stood the constitution: “This is your undying service to your people and to humanity.”
The dying old man had no intention of wounding Nicholas or reminding him of his own services by his mention of the constitution. Even then, in 1915, the great politician sensed the current situation’s uncanny similarity to the eve of the tragic year 1905. He realized the storm would soon break. So he decided to prompt the tsar once more with the chief lesson of 1905: know how to yield!
But that year Alix and Nicholas were caught up in another battle with the Duma. Nicholas was angered by this reminder of his “past sin” (as he now referred to the constitution). He did not grant his former minister’s small request: Naryshkin never did become Count Witte.
Vera Leonidovna:
“I don’t agree with Count