We were all invited to a gala dinner at the palace at Tsarskoe. As doyen of the diplomatic body, I had the honour of being placed on the Emperor's right, and His Majesty talked to me during the greater part of the dinner. The only questions, to which I called his attention, were the food crisis and Russia's man power. As regarded the first, I told him that, according to my reports, there was such a scarcity of foodstuffs in some provinces that the supplies were not expected to last more than a fort- night. This shortage seemed to be due to lack of co-ordination between the Ministries of Agriculture and Transport and to the absence of any organized system of distribution. The latter duty, I suggested, might with advantage be entrusted to the Zemstvos. The Emperor agreed that the Minister of Agriculture ought to avail himself of the services of the latter, adding that, if workmen ran short of food, strikes were certain to follow.
With regard to the second question, I observed that Russia was not making the most of her vast man power, and that, though she badly needed certain metals, her mineral wealth was not properly exploited. Had His Majesty, I asked, ever contemplated follow- ing Germany's example, and instituting some form of obligatory auxiliary service for all? The Emperor replied that he had already had this question under his consideration, and that he hoped that it might be possible to take some step in the direction which I had indicated. It was, he added, but right that in times of national crises everybody should serve the State to the best of his abiUties. The rest of our con- versation was of a non-political character. For myself, personally, a melancholy interest attaches to this dinner, for it was the last occasion on which I ever saw the Emperor. At the same time it is some satisfaction to me to remember his marked friendliness at what, unsuspected by either of us, was to be our last inter- view. It was as if His Majesty wished to show me that not only he did not resent my outspoken language at my recent audience, but that he appreciated the motives which prompted me to speak so frankly to him. ith a view to expediting matters, the conference had been split up into three commissions — political, military, and technical. It was the last named, deal- ing as it did with the all-important questions of trans- port and munitions, that accomplished the most useful work. In his speech at the opening of the conference, General Gourko stated that Russia had mobilized four- teen million men, had lost two millions in killed and wounded, as well as two million prisoners, and had at present seven and a half millions under arms and two and a half millions in her reserve depots. He did not hold out any hope of her army being able to take an offensive on a large scale till the new divisions, about to be formed, had been finally constituted, trained and equipped with the necessary guns, rifles and munitions. All that it could do meanwhile was to hold the enemy by actions of secondary importance. The putcome of the conference was a series of recommendations with regard to the war material and credits which it was proposed that the Allied Governments should place at Russia's disposal.
In the evening a concert of Strauss’s music: Till Eulenspiegel, Salome, A Hero’s Life. A full half of those present were Frenchmen, Englishmen and Russians, so that each half of the audience would have been perfectly within their rights to torpedo the other half.
A rush of blood to the head. Sad thoughts: the Empress is abhorred. I believe danger will come from an unexpected source: Mikhail. His wifeNatalia Sheremetyevskaya, with whom Mikhail Romanov entered into a morganatic marriage, was the daughter of a Moscow lawyer. The marriage with Mikhail was her third. is “very much a member of the intelligentsia”, and, as such, lacks any constraints. She’s already wormed her way through to Maria Pavlovna. Her box at the theatre is teeming with Grand Dukes; they’ll connive together with Maria PavlovnaGrand Duchess Maria Pavlovna was the center of opposition to Empress Alexandra Feodorovna of the Romanovs.. She’ll see to it that she’s accepted by the Empress-Mother and the Emperor. I sense that they’re plotting. Poor Misha will, in spite of himself, be implicated in this plot; first he’ll be regent, then he’ll be emperor. They’ll accomplish everything.
An “intimate” lunch at the GorchakovsMikhail Gorchakov, aristocrat and public advocate of the monarchy.’. Delicious food, first-rate wine, a highly well-mannered maitre d’hotel such as are found in the best bonnes maisons, and an ecstatic (if sometimes exhausting) host. Akitsa and I are both terribly fond of these feasts, which extend long into the evening, are executed with great taste and accompanied by countless comforts (such as the oh-so delicious chocolates we enjoy after the meal). Not a word, thank God, was mentioned of the war; most of the time we spoke of friends and acquaintances.
Rumours have been circulating the world over to the effect that the Empress is a German sympathiser, with relevant evidence adduced. These rumours, which resist refutation, will undoubtedly find their way into the field army, and the consequences of their propagation may prove highly deleterious. It has been claimed, for example, that during one of my reports to His Majesty, the Empress entered his office, upon which I discontinued my report. His Highness, so it is alleged, proceeded to tell me that he had no secrets from the Empress, to which I am supposed to have responded that, on the other hand, did have such secrets. But, far from bespeaking the existence of any “fire”, as per the famous proverb, this tittle-tattle is “smoke-free”, too; during my time as Chief-of-Staff, the Empress has not been present at a single one of my reports to the Tsar, conversations at table excepted.
N. had a big dinner, I received these gentlemen of the conference in the evening.
At eight o'clock state banquet at Alexander Palace. As a matter of fact, the state part of it was displayed only in the liveries, lights and plate, for the menu was simplicity itself, a thoroughly bourgeois simplicity which contrasted forcibly with the ancient and far-famed splendour of the imperial cuisine. The Tsar looked as he does on his good days; he feared, I am told, that the delegates would give him unwanted advice on internal politics; he is now reassured on the point. The Tsarina is not well and remained in her room.
Dinner ended at last and we went into the next room where coffee was served. The Emperor lit a cigarette and passed from group to group. While these dull conversations were in progress, the Empress received the chief delegates in turn in her room.