It was a warm day with a cooling rain. During the morning I took a walk with Alexis. Until lunch I gave him a history lesson. In an hour we chopped up one of yesterday's fir trees. We returned home, a little early because of the rain. At 6:30 we went to vespers. Before dinner, Alix received modest presents.
There are mountains here, but they’re somehow unpleasant. I don’t know what’s lacking—maybe sunshine. In general, I didn’t much like Norway: it doesn’t hold a candle to Sweden. That one’s really fun.
It’s a bit colder today—I went out for roses once again. I have never seen such splendor before.
My course of action as well as General Alekseyev’s did not correspond with the views of the Provisional Government, and a collaboration with General Brusilov was unthinkable in view of the total divide between our views… Brusilov and I lived through many trying but, more importantly, joyful days of military happiness together—unforgettable days, and now it has become difficult for me to speak with him, with this different Brusilov, who has so improvidently lost not only for himself (that’s unimportant), but also for the army, all the former charm of his name. See more
Occasionally, as he was reading his report to us, Brusilov would interrupt himself and say in agitation:
“Anton Ivanovich! So you think I don’t find it repulsive to brandish the red flag? Well, what to do? Russia is ill, the army is ill. We must heal it. And I know of no other medicine.”
The question of my significance meant more to him than I did. I declined to state my own wishes, saying I would go wherever I was told.
To the Editor of The New York Times:
The Associated Press correspondent the other day informed the American public that the army and navy officers suspected of actively sympathizing with the autocracy who are held in the Kronstadt prisons are treated horribly. See more
I am utterly out of sympathy with the so-called Kronstadt republic, but I protest against the attitude of those who try to raise American public opinion against revolutionary Russia.
The correspondent asserts that the cells are overcrowded, unventilated, windowless, etc. No doubt they are. But one must not forget that these prisons were built not by revolutionary Russia but by the Government of the Czar, and were originally intended for revolutionists. Had the builders known that the time could come when they themselves would have to inhabit those prisons, they would surely have made them more comfortable.
Admiral Kurosh, one of the prisoners, complained to the correspondent that the prison food (the correspondent admits that it is the food of a private soldier) has ruined his health. I am very sorry if it did. But in times of war and revolution even civilians must be satisfied with the food they get. “Babushka” Breshkovskaya, Vera Zasulich, Maria Spiridonova, Vera Figner, Herman Lopatin, Prince Kropotkin, and multitudes of others during many years of their imprisonment would have been lucky to get the kind of food that Admiral Kurosh gets.
And, as the correspondent tells us that the prisoners are allowed to read newspapers, to buy tobacco, to write and receive letters (although censored,) and even to complain to The Associated Press correspondent, I really do not see where the “horrors” are.
Russia, which has known the tortures of Riga prisons, the executions of Rennenkampf, the horrors of Siberia, would surely not be amazed by such “horrors” as those described by the correspondent. And if the American public will read George Kennan it will admit that the revolutionists are very good-natured people after all.
Editorial Staff of Russky Golos