3 November 1917. Zinaida Gippius

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

Zinaida Gippius

Sergievskaya 83, Petrograd, Russian Republic

Tomorrow, on Sunday, a grandiose prayer of Cossack units with a cross procession has been organised. Tomorrow is the “day of the Soviets” (not an uprising, the uprising is scheduled for the 7th, however, “equivocally” it has been promised earlier, if necessary).

The Cossack procession, of course, is a demonstration. Neither side wants to “start”. And the situation is getting intense - it is becoming unbearable.

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Alexandra Feodorovna Anna Vyrubova

Tobolsk, Russian Republic

We are all well. I have been suffering from neuralgia in the head but now Dr. Kostritzky has come to treat me. We have spoken often of you. They say that life in the Crimea is dreadful now. Still, Olga A. is happy with her little Tichon whom she is nursing herself. See more

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W. Somerset Maugham

Scotland, United Kingdom

The patriotism of the Russians is a singular thing; there is a great deal of conceit in it; they feel themselves different from other people and flatter themselves on their difference; they speak with self-satisfaction of the ignorance of their peasants; they vaunt their mysteriousness and complexity. See more

They repeat that with one face they look to the west and with the other to the east; they are proud of their faults - like a boorish man who tells you he is as God made him - and will admit with complacency that they are besotted and ignorant, incoherent of purpose and vacillating in action; but in that complex feeling which is the patriotism one knows in other countries, they seem deficient. I have tried to analyze what this particular emotion is myself consist of. To me the very shape of England on the map is significant, and it brings to my mind pellmell a hundred impressions, the white cliffs of Dover and the tawny sea, the pleasant winding roads of Kent and the Sussex downs, St. Paul’s and the Pool of London; scraps of poetry, the noble ode of Collins and Matthew Arnold’s Scholar Gipsy and Keats’ Nightingale, stray lines of Shakespeare’s and the pages out of English history, Drake with his ships, and Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth; Tom Jones and Dr. Johnson; and all my friends and the posters at Victoria Station; then some vague feeling of majesty and power and continuity; and then, heaven knows why, the thought of a barque in full sail going down the Channel—Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding—while the setting sun hangs redly on the edge of the horizon. These feelings and a hundred others make up an emotion which makes sacrifice easy, it is an emotion compact of pride and longing and love, but it is humble rather than conceited, and it does not preclude a sense of humour. Perhaps Russia is too large for sentiments so intimate, its past too barren of chivalry and high romance, its character too indefinite, its literature too poor, for the imagination to embrace the country, its history and culture, in a single emotion. Russians will tell you that the peasant loves his village. His outlook goes no further. And when you read histories of Russia you are amazed to find how little the feeling of nationality has meant to one age after another. It is a startling incident when a wave of patriotism has arisen to drive out an invader. The general attitude has been one of indifference to his presence on the part of those not actually afflicted by it. It is not by chance that Holy Russia bore so long and so submissively the yoke of the Tartar. Now it causes no indignation that the Central Powers may seize portions of Russian soil: the possibility is dismissed with a shrug and the words: "Russia is large enough anyway."

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Nikita Okunev

Prosvirin lane, Moscow, Russian Republic

Yesterday, everyone in Petrograd and Moscow was waiting for a "Bolshevik uprising." Scared philistines imagined armed robberies hitting every apartment, carnage, unrest - in a word, something like a Massacre of St. Bartholomew.

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Vladimir Korolenko

1, Malo-Sadovaya st., Poltava, Russian Empire

Our Russian front is paralyzed. Germans used it as a chance to hit Italy.

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John Reed

Smolny Institute, Petrograd, Russian Republic

A great soldier meeting at Smolny on the 3rd resolved:

"Saluting the creation of the Military Revolutionary Committee, the Petrograd garrison promises it complete support in all its actions, to unite more closely the front and the rear in the interests of the Revolution. See more

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George Buchanan

4, Dvortsovaya embankment, Petrograd, Russian Republic (British Embassy)

"Verkhovski, the Minister of War, has resigned. He had always contended that if the troops were to be kept in the trenches they must be told what they were fighting for, and that we ought, therefore, to publish our peace terms and to throw the responsibility for the continuance of the war on the Germans. See more

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Alexander Zamaraev

Totma, Vologodskaya guberniya, Russian Republic

I went to work at the mill.

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2 November

Lenin was again ordered to be arrested

The first meeting of the Military Revolutionary Committee took place

23rd anniversary of the death of Alexander III

1916: Year in Review.

From one revolution to another

Russia in 1917

in Petrograd

in Moscow