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Non-fiction

Project 1917 is a series of events that took place a hundred years ago as described by those involved. It is composed only of diaries, letters, memoirs, newspapers and other documents

She was foolish in the extreme heat to go with her daughters to the beach to see how Sandro and the boys are bathing. See more

The commander of the Black Sea Fleet, Admiral Kolchak, has departed for St. Petersburg in order to petition the American government for acceptance into the U.S. Navy as a volunteer. Kolchak endeavored till the final hour to maintain discipline in the fleet, but the Council’s promises seemed more attractive to his subordinates. See more

У нашего комиссара было никогда не оставлявшее его испуганно-озлобленное выражение лица. Постоянно оглядываясь на своих терроризовавших его помощников, он в обращении с нами старательно подражал их революционной резкости. В апреле месяце он титуловал меня «бывшим великим князем Александром», в мае я превратился в «адмирала Романова», к июню я уже стал просто «гражданином Романовым». Всякий намек на протест с моей стороны сделал бы его счастливым.

We completed our journey in the company of a convoy of sailors. When we arrived in Ay-Todor, we were presented with a list of all the things we were not supposed to do by a gentleman with the grand-sounding title “Special Commissar for the Provisional Government”. We were under house arrest and only allowed to move freely within the Ay-Todor-estate, in the few acres between the mountains and the seashore. See more

In all likelihood, some of our good friends, touched by our situation, managed to influence the Provisional Government and as a result we were visited by a commissioner, who gave us the order to immediately go to Crimea. The local council fully approved this plan, because it believed that the “presence of enemies of the people so close to the front is a great danger for revolutionary Russia.” See more

There are rumors that the Emperor Nicholas II and all the royal family are to be sent to Siberia, despite the fact that in March he was given guarantees that he would have the right to choose between whether to reside in England or Crimea. Kerensky, the only socialist in the ranks of the Provisional Government, has told his intimates that Lloyd George has ruled out the former Tsar’s being allowed to enter England.

All these freedoms are all very well, but meanwhile we, for some reason, are obliged to suffer more than any other citizens. It seems we are heading, rapidly and irrevocably, towards a republican regime. I fear that we are not ready for this, and Russia will fall apart. Already, Ukraine wishes to become an independent republic. And above all, the Yids will now gain a great deal of power, as we’ve already seen in Kiev, but if they continue in this way, a pogrom is inevitable, and they are terribly afraid of this.

On the banners, which were carried by demonstrators in Kiev, who were full of revolutionary enthusiasm, with clear letters were written new political slogans:

“We demand an immediate peace!”

“We demand the return of our husbands and sons from the front!”

“Down with the government of capitalists!”

“We need peace, not bloodshed!”

“We demand an independant Ukraine.”

During the first two weeks everything went admirably. Merging with the crowd, we walked through the streets, and observed the triumphant demonstrations which have been organised to celebrate the country’s newly-acquired freedom. The days are filled with endless meetings, and countless orators are promising peace, triumph and freedom. It’s difficult to work out how this will all conclude, but, of course, one should never forget the Russian love of lofty rhetoric. People stop me on the street, shake my hand and say that my liberal views are well known. Officers and soldiers who meet me salute, although the practice of saluting, under the much-vaunted Order No. 1, has been revoked.   

Everything seems to be very fine.

General Alexeev asks us to assemble in the main hall of the Mogilev headquarters. Nicky wants to address his former general staff with a farewell speech. By 11 o'clock the hall is full: generals, staff and company officers, and people from the retinue. Nicky enters, calm, composed, with something akin to a smile on his lips. He thanks his general staff and asks everyone to continue their work "with the same assiduousness and self-sacrifice." See more

Summoned into their presence, I found Maria Fyodorovna weeping uncontrollably in her seat; he, meanwhile, was on his feet, stock-still, gaze fixed on the floor, cigarette (naturally) in hand. We embraced. I didn’t know what service I could render him. His calmness testified to the fact that he was firmly convinced of the rectitude of his decision, although he did reproach his brother Mikhail Alexandrovich for leaving Russia without an Emperor when he refused the throne. See more

I telegraphed Nicky and put himself at his complete disposal. At the same time, I called my brother Sergei Mikhailovich on the phone. His voice sounded very worried:

“The situation in Petrograd is getting worse and worse,” he nervously said. “Street clashes continue, and you can expect the troops to go over to the rebels at any moment."

“But what about cavalry guard? Can you also not rely on them?"

“There’s something weird and mysterious about way the order of their dispatch to St. Petersburg was canceled. The cavalry guard didn’t think to quit the front."

The bread queues in Petrograd have been getting longer and longer, although the wheat and rye has been rotting all along the Great Siberian Railroad and in the south west regions. The city garrison, which consisted of new recruits and reserves was not, of course, a reliable enough force to maintain order in the event of serious disturbances. I asked the military command if they were planning to bring more dependable regiments back from the front line. I received the reply that thirteen guard cavalry regiments were expected to come from the front shortly.

I finally got an invitation from Alix for breakfast in Tsarskoe Selo. Those breakfasts! It seems half a year of my life has been lost at breakfast in Tsarskoye Selo!

Alix was in bed and promised to see me as soon as I was done eating. There were eight of us at the table: Nicky, myself, the Heir, the Emperor’s four daughters and an aide-de-camp. They were all in good spirits and completely ignorant of political events. See more

Mikhail Alexandrovich and I spoke to his Majesty again. It was a waste of time.  When it was my turn to speak I was so agitated I could not a say a word.

“Thank you, Sandro, for the letter you brought me from Kiev” – this was the only reply his Majesty gave to my many pages of advice.

Age: 51
Lives in: Kiev, Russian Empire
Nickname: Sandro

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