6 March 1917. Alexander Blok

Alexander Blok

The 13th engineering and construction squad of the Union of Zemstvos and Towns, Pinsk marshes, Minsk guberniya, Russian Empire

This wretched feeling I have comes first and foremost from the apathy I’ve fallen into. I want to finally get around to living, not just existing. I want to do something worthwhile…. Writing is difficult, because everyone around me is screaming in my ear, 20 people are hammering in nails, playing chess, speaking over the telephone, chopping wood, playing on the mandolin – and all at the same time!

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Maurice Paleologue

10, Kutuzov embankment, Petrograd, Russian Empire

Petrograd is short of bread and wood, and the public is suffering want.

At a bakery on the Liteïny this morning I was struck by the sinister expression on the faces of the poor folk who were lined up in a queue, most of whom had spent the whole night there. See more

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Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin

has finished painting "Morning"

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Alfred Knox

On Saturday morning, M. Diamandi (the Rumanian Minister) telephoned that he wanted to see me. I went to him at 3p.m. I am sorry for him,for he is a gentleman, honest and a patriot, and he feels his position acutely, for he was largely instrumental in bringing his country into the war, that has proved so disastrous for it, while its intervention has so far brought nothing but inconvenience to the Entente. He talked for one and a half hours. First he pointed out See more

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Elizaveta Naryshkina

Alexander Palace, Tsarskoye Selo, Russian Empire

At two I set off to the Alexandrov Palace for the reception. His Majesty departs tomorrow. I was preparing to accompany him, but the Empress told me this would not be necessary and brought him to me herself to say goodbye. He was very amiable and kind. It seemed to me that his Majesty has lost weight and is looking older.

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4 years ago

Grand Duchess Olga Alexandrovna

recalls the celebrations for the three-hundred-year anniversary of the Romanov dynasty (6-8 March 1913):

Petrograd, Russian Empire

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In the People's House opened on the 300th anniversary of the Romanov dynasty. St. Petersburg, Russian Empire, 1913

There was such glitter and such splendour, but everything seemed false and laboured. Aliki was quite worn out and almost fainted during the ball. As I looked at all the festive illuminations, and attended one ball after another I had the strange feeling that, although we were celebrating in the same way as we had for centuries, some new and terrible circumstances were appearing around us, due to forces beyond our control.

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Stefan Zweig

8, Kohgasse, Vienne, Austria

Alexander Pushkin, the father of Russian literature is of noble blood. Leo Tolstoy is the son of the old aristocratic family. Turgenev, a landowner. Dostoevsky, a bureaucrat’s son. But all of them are nobles nonetheless. For literature, art, and all kinds of creative works in the Russian empire in the 19th century empire have belonged to the nobility. See more

As do other privileges such as the landed estates, rivers and mineral resources, forests and arable land, and even real people, the serfs who cultivated the land for them. All power, all the wealth, honor, knowledge, and all spiritual values have been given to hundreds of noble families, ten thousand people out of many millions of people. They represent Russia in the world’s eyes, its abundance, its nation, its power, its spirit.

Hundreds of families, ten thousand people. But beneath this thin layer lives and works the Russian people, millions of the masses, an unconscious gigantic force. These millions of grains of sand are scattered across the huge expanses of Russia. They are the millions of hands that multiply the wealth of this giant country day and night. They uproot the tree stumps, pave the roads, crush the grapes, and mine the ore. They reap and sow the snow covered black earth and fight in the Tsar’s wars. They serve and serve, and serve their masters, as well as all the peoples of today’s Europe with dedication and forced labor. But one thing distinguishes the Russian people from the other fraternal peoples: they still don’t have their own voice. For a long time, it’s been other people from their midst who were sent as messengers—writers, orators, and scholars. But millions of Russians still can’t express their wishes in the written word and have no right to express their thoughts on the fate of their country. They have nothing to convey and no way for to express their great and rebellious soul. This mysterious, vast ocean of people are overwhelmed by passion, but mighty and voiceless, disenfranchised, and desolate, and live and work secretly on the Russian land. Their souls are devoid of language, existence, and conscious thought. Their masters, the nobles, the powers that be speak for all voiceless. Until the 20th century, we learned about the Russian people by just listening to the voices of its noble writers—Pushkin, Tolstoy, Turgenev and Dostoevsky.

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Vasily Shulgin

If someone wants to jump into a pit, you should exert all your efforts to hold him back. If, however, it becomes clear that he is determined to jump, you should push him, in the hope that just maybe your extra efforts will carry him over to the other side.

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5 March

The Tsar’s brother takes a liking to a balalaika player

The Emperor is unhappy at the fact that the British ambassador is interfering in domestic politics

One of the Empress’s ladies-in-waiting: “We all seem out of sorts. What fun it would be to have some champagne!”