Why this Book is Written. (continued 2)

“Grichka” possessed the reputation of being a popular preacher. That was not so. He had never been ordained a priest; he was a pure adventurer, and did not belong to any ecclesiastical order. Therefore he had no licence to preach in a church. He was simply a Siberian peasant convicted of theft, blackmail, and outrage, who had set himself up to be a “holy man.” And as such, all Russia, from the Empress downwards, accepted him and swallowed any lie that he might utter. Truly the whole situation was amazing in this twentieth century.

He preached often to his “sister-disciples” in their salons, and sometimes at “At Homes,” where fast society women who had fallen beneath the pious scoundrel’s fascination hoped to make other converts. To such “At Homes” only young and pretty women were ever invited. Rasputin had no use for the old and angular.

One evening one of these reunions for recruiting purposes was held by the yellow-toothed old Baroness Guerbel, at her big house in the Potemkinskaya, and to it a young married woman, wife of an officer named Yatchevski, who was well-known in Petrograd, had been invited. Her husband, hearing of this, called three of his own burly Cossacks, and next night they concealed themselves close to Rasputin’s house. There they waited until the bearded “holy man” emerged to go upon his usual evening visit to the Winter Palace; when the men suddenly sprang upon him, and hustling him into a narrow side street, stripped him of his finely embroidered silk shirt, of the usual Russian model, his wide velvet knickerbockers, and his patent-leather top-boots. After that they administered to the fellow a sound and well-deserved thrashing, having first gagged and bound him. Afterwards they placed him, attired only in his underwear, upon a manure heap in a neighbouring stable-yard, while the clothes they had taken from him were packed in a big cardboard costume-box and delivered by special messenger privately to the Empress at the Palace.

Her Majesty was, of course, furiously indignant that her dear “Father” should thus be made, sport of. At once a rigid inquiry was ordered, but the perpetrators of the well-merited punishment were never discovered.

Rasputin was ever active as head of the camarilla. The attention of the Holy Synod had time after time been called to the amazing exploits of this pious charlatan, until at last it was deemed expedient to hold yet another inquiry, into the fellow’s conduct.

Supplied with German money, he employed spies on every hand to keep him informed of any untoward circumstances, or any undue inquisitiveness. So he quickly heard of this proposed inquiry and consulted Bishop Teofan, brother of one of his favourite “sister-disciples,” who lived in Siberia. That night both Monk and Bishop sought the Tsar and Tsaritza. Rasputin declared angrily that there was a most formidable plot against himself. He therefore intended to leave Petrograd, and return to Siberia for ever.

“Because by divine grace I possess the power off healing, thy Church is jealous of me,” he declared to the Emperor. “The Holy Synod is seeking my overthrow! Always have I acted for the benefit of mankind, and so through me thy dear son is under God’s grace. But the Russian Church seeks to drive me forth. Therefore, I must bow to the inevitable—and I Will depart?”

“No! No!” cried the Empress in despair. Then, turning quickly to her husband, who had left some important business of State, which he was transacting in his private cabinet with the War Minister, Her Majesty exclaimed:

“Nikki. This ecclesiastical interference cannot be tolerated. It is abominable! We cannot lose our dear Father! Order a list of his enemies in the Church to be made, and at once dismiss them all. Put our friends into their places.”

“If thou wilt leave matters entirely to me,” said the sham saint, addressing the feeble yet honest autocrat, “I will furnish the list, together with names of their successors.”

“I give thee a free hand, dear Gregory,” was the Emperor’s reply. Within twelve hours all those in the Russian Church who had sought to unmask the pious rascal found themselves dismissed, while in their places were appointed certain of the most drunken and dissolute characters that in all the ages have ever disgraced the Christian religion, their head being the arch-plotter Bishop Teofan.

About this time, after many secret meetings of the camarilla at Rasputin’s house, Protopopoff succeeded in bribing certain generals at the front with cash—money supplied from Germany, to prevent a further offensive. In consequence, at a dozen points along the Russian lines the troops were defeated and hurled back. This created exactly the impression desired by the camarilla, namely, to show to the Russian people that Germany was invincible, and that a separate peace was far preferable to continued hostility. It was to secure this that Rasputin and his gang were incessantly working.

Scandal after scandal was brought to light, and more than one officer of the high Russian command was arrested and tried by court-martial. Rasputin and Protopopoff had now become more than ever unscrupulous. Generals and others who had accepted bribes to further Germany’s cause were secretly betrayed to the Ministry of War, care, however, always being taken that they could produce no absolute evidence against those who had previously been their paymasters.

A notorious case was that of General Maslovsky, who, before the war, commanded the Thirteenth Army Corps at Smolensk. He, with General Rosen, commandant of the Twenty-third Army Corps at Warsaw, had been induced by a “sister-disciple” of Rasputin’s—a pretty young Frenchwoman—to accept a large sum paid into his account at the Volga Kama Bank in Moscow, provided that the Russians retreated in the Novo Georgievsk region. This they did, allowing great quantities of machine-guns, ammunition and motor lorries to fall into the enemy’s hands.

In order to create scandal and public distrust, the “holy man” secretly denounced these two traitors, who were arrested and tried by court-martial at Samara. The prisoners in turn revealed the fact that big payments had been made by the young Frenchwoman. So she, in turn, was also arrested. Rasputin, however, did not lift a finger to save his catspaw. She declared that she had simply been the tool of the mock-monk, but the latter privately informed the President of the Court that the young Frenchwoman was a well-known spy of Germany known to the Court, and whom he had held in suspicion for a considerable time.

No word against Rasputin’s loyalty was ever believed, for was he not the most intimate and loyal friend of both Emperor and Empress? Therefore the court-martial found the prisoners guilty, and the trio paid the penalty of all spies—they were shot in the barrack-square of Samara!

This is but one illustration of Rasputin’s crafty intrigue and cool unscrupulousness. Possessed of a deeply criminal instinct as he was, it was impossible for him to do an honest action. He never failed to betray his friends, or even send them to their graves upon false charges secretly laid, if by so doing he could further his own despicable ends.

The dissolute rascal, possessed of superhuman cunning, held Russia in the hollow of his hand, and aided by his fellow-scoundrel, Protopopoff, he could make or break the most powerful men in a single hour.

That he was in active communication with Germany, and that the vile plots against the Russian arms were being manufactured in Berlin, is plainly shown by the following letter, which after his death was discovered, together with a quantity of other highly incriminating correspondence—which I shall disclose later—in a small safe concealed beneath the stone floor of the well-stocked wine-cellar at the house in the Gorokhovaya.

It is in one of the sentence-ciphers of the German Secret Service, but fortunately in the same safe the de-cipher was found, and by it that communication as well as others is now revealed.

The letter is written upon thin pale-yellow paper, so that it might be the more easily concealed. It had probably been bound up in the cardboard cover of a book and thus transmitted. This letter before me reads as follows:—

“Number 70. August 16th, 1916.

“Your reports upon the activity of Krusenstern (Commander of the 28th Army Corps), and also upon the friendship of Sakharoff and Yepantchine (two prominent members of the Duma), is duly noted. The firm of Berchmann Brothers, of Kiev, are paying into the Crédit Lyonnais in Petrograd 120,000 roubles to your account, with a similar sum to your friend S. (Boris Stürmer, Prime Minister of Russia).

“Instructions are as follows: Suggest to S. this plan against the Duma. From the archives of the Ministry of the Interior he can obtain a list of the names and places of residence of thousands of Russian Revolutionists of the extreme school. These he can, if we order it, place in prison or have them tried by court-martial and shot. He will, however, act most generously and secretly. He will, under promise of protection send them forth as his agents, well supplied with funds, and thus arrange for a considerable number of pro-German Social Democrats to enter Petrograd and work alongside the Russian Anarchists, Tolstoyans, Pacifists, Communists and Red Socialists. With such a widespread propaganda of wild and fierce agitators in the munition factories, we shall be able to create strikes and commit outrages at any moment instructions are given. They should be ordered to continually urge the working men to strike and to riot, and thus begin the movement that is to make Europe a federation of Socialist republics. This plan attracts the working-class, and has already succeeded on the Clyde and in Ireland. Your only serious opponent is Gutchkoff, but you will arrange with the Empress that his activities be at once diverted into another sphere.

“Enlist on our side as many members of the Duma as possible. Furnish from time to time a list of payments made by you, and the firm of Berchmann will sustain your balance at the Crédit Lyonnais.

“We await the result of your good services, which are highly appreciated by His Majesty, and which will be amply and most generously rewarded when we have Russia in our hands, which will not be long.

“Messages: Tell S. (Stürmer, the pro-German Prime Minister and a creature of the Empress) to be extremely careful of the Grand Duke Dmitri. He holds a compromising letter written by Nada Litvinoff regarding her attempt to suborn Brusiloff. The woman Litvinoff is reported to be staying at the Regina Hotel in Petrograd. No effort should be spared to obtain and destroy that letter, as it is very compromising. Professor Miliukoff should be removed. Ten thousand roubles will be paid for that service. J. or B. might be approached. Both are in need of money.

“Instruct Anna (Madame Vyrubova) to tell the Empress to receive a woman named Geismann, who will demand audience at noon on August 30th. She carries a verbal message from the Emperor. It is important that you should know Countess Zia Kloieff, of Voronéje. She possesses influence in a certain military quarter that will eventually be most useful and highly essential.

“H— (a spy whose identity is up to the present unknown) has fixed August 29th, at 11:30 a.m., for the disaster at the shell-filling factory at Krestovsky. An electric line is laid beneath the Neva, and all is prepared.

“Salutations from all three of us.—N.”

Such were the secret instructions received from Berlin by the murderous charlatan who posed as one of the most loyal Russians in the Empire.

His reply, of which a copy is appended—for strangely—enough he was a businesslike rascal—is as follows. It is brief but to the point:—

“Yours and remittances received. S. already at work. Have informed Her Majesty. All is being prepared for our great coup. The more disasters and loss of life in munition factories the better the impression towards yourselves. S. has already sent four hundred extreme revolutionists to the front with money and instructions. Have noted all your points. Martos takes this to Helsingfors, and will await your reply with any further orders.

“Have had no instructions concerning the Englishman C. Please send. Suggest imprisonment upon false charge of espionage. If so, please send incriminating papers to produce as evidence.—G.”

The scoundrel’s reply here before me is, in itself, in his own handwriting, the most damning evidence against him.

That Stürmer and Protopopoff acted upon those instructions has since become apparent. Events have shown it. Puppets in the hands of the Emperor William, with money flowing to them in an ever-endless stream from businesslike sources entirely unsuspected by the highly patriotic banks handling those substantial amounts, they were swiftly yet surely undermining the greatness of the Russian Empire and seriously cutting the claws of the Russian bear. The “Russian steam-roller,” as certain English prophets—oh! save them!—were so fond of calling the Muscovite army in the early days of the war, was growing rusty for want of proper lubrication. Rasputin and his friends were placing its machinery in the reverse gear by their marvellously well-concealed intrigues, and their lavish distribution of money to those long-haired revolutionists who had honestly believed that by removing the autocrat they would liberate their dear Russia.

No plot more subtle, more widespread, or more utterly amazing has ever been conceived in the whole world’s history than the one which I am here disclosing.

A convicted criminal, a mere unmannered and uncouth peasant from far Siberia, held both Emperor and Empress of Russia beneath his thumb. He gave to both of them orders which they weakly obeyed. If one of the erotic scoundrel’s “sister-disciples” asked a favour—the appointment of lover or of husband to a lucrative post—he went at once to the Emperor, and actually with his own illiterate hand wrote out the orders for His Majesty to sign.

And to that unkempt blackguard, who seldom indulged in the luxury of a bath. Her Majesty the Empress bowed her knee, honestly believing that the Almighty had endowed him with powers superhuman, and that he could cause disaster or death whenever he willed it.

Further amazing and incriminating letters are before me as I write, and I shall print more of this secret correspondence in order that readers in Great Britain may know the depths of Germany’s villainy and the exact methods by which Russia has been betrayed.

The official dossier concerning the crimes and conspiracies of the arch-scoundrel is astounding. It becomes increasingly amazing as one turns over its voluminous pages, its confidential reports, its copies of telegrams dispatched under fictitious names, since obtained from the telegraph bureaux of Russia, and its originals of secret instructions from Berlin.

In the latter one finds the subtle hand of the notorious Steinhauer, the head of the Kaiser’s spy-bureau, the fair-bearded, middle-aged Prussian who accompanied the German Emperor to Buckingham Palace on his last visit to London, and who was one of the select party of German motorists who came to tour England with Prince Henry of Prussia at their head.

It devolved upon myself to accompany and watch that tour very closely. Even then one department in Whitehall had not been chloroformed by the dope of the Sleep-quietly-in-your-beds Party—a department in the formation of which I had had some hand. Steinhauer I had met in Germany, though he did not know me, and when he came to England with His Imperial Highness, as Herr Eschenburg of Stuttgart, driving his big red “Mercedes,” I considered that it was high time to keep a strict eye upon him—which I did. What I discovered of his movements and of his associates has been of greatest advantage since the outbreak of war.

No more expert spy exists in all the world today than “Herr Eschenburg of Stuttgart”, whose real name is Steinhauer, known in the German Secret Service as “Number Seventy.”

The dossier here placed at my disposal shows that Herr Steinhauer visited Rasputin in Petrograd four times before August, 1914, while his underlings arrived at the house in the Gorokhovaya many times after the two Empires had come to grips.

Rasputin, in his unique position as autocrat aver the Autocrat, felt himself the personal agent of the Kaiser, and as such seems to have somewhat resented Steinhauer’s rather arrogant orders. Indeed, he complained bitterly to the German Emperor, who, in reply, propitiated the Siberian peasant by explaining that he was so occupied by the campaign against his enemies that he left all matters of detail to “our trusted and loyal friend Steinhauer, whose actions and orders are as my own.”

On August 28th, 1916, there arrived in Petrograd a pretty dark-haired young Dutch woman named Hélène Geismann. She presented a letter of introduction to Rasputin that evening at his house, and was promised audience of Her Majesty the Empress at noon next day.

The monk was at Tsarskoe-Selo when the young woman called. It was a meeting day of the higher, or Court Circle of the “sister-disciples,” such séances being held at five o’clock each Friday afternoon.

Three new “disciples” had been initiated into the mysteries of the mock-pious rascal’s new “religion.” Their names were the Baroness Zouieff, and Mesdemoiselles Olga Romanenkoff and Nadjezda Tavascherne, the two latter being of the noblest families of Moscow, and all moving in the Court entourage.

Nicholas II was away at the front, therefore Rasputin on such occasions ruled the Empire, and actually signed with his own hand orders and appointments, as His Majesty’s representative. When the Emperor was absent the dirty, unkempt peasant, who called himself a monk, usurped his place in the Imperial household.

Through this unprincipled scoundrel and blackmailer Germany was cleverly working to undermine and effect the fall of the Muscovite Empire. No expense was being spared, nor were there any scruples. Germany intended that the Russian defensive should crumble.

When the Empress received the young woman Geismann, an emissary from Berlin and the bearer of several documents, including an autograph letter from the Kaiser, the “Holy Father” was also present. The superstitious, neurotic Empress could do nothing without the advice of the man who had by his mock-piety and his sensuous “religion” so completely entranced her. She, like her weak, narrow-minded husband, had become completely hypnotised by the dissolute charlatan, in whose hands lay absolute power.

When the Kaiser’s messenger presented the secret letter to the Empress, she also handed another to Rasputin.

This was found among the contents of the safe in the basement of “Grichka’s” house, and is in German, as follows:—

“Strictly private and confidential.

“General Headquarters in France, Montmedy, August 10th, 1916.

“Your excellent service to our Empire has been reported to me by Herr Steinhauer. I congratulate you, happy in the knowledge that the Empress Alexandra has, in yourself, such a good and wise counsellor. You have done much, but there is still more good work for you to accomplish.

“Your friends must see that there is an increasing lack of material and ammunition, that information reaches Berlin regarding orders for guns, explosives and automobiles placed in England, in order that we can watch for them near the Finland coast, and destroy them. Disasters on railways, in munition works and elsewhere are advisable. Steinhauer is sending you six trusted agents to effect these. Your friends must afford them official protection, and they must be also afforded opportunity.

“I have also sent certain suggestions to Her Majesty the Empress which she will discuss with you. Your two most dangerous enemies at the moment appear to be Prince Yuri Lvov, who has a great following, and the man from Tiflis, M. Cheidze. If their activities could be ended, you would be in far less danger. It may be possible for you to arrange this. Consult with the Empress. It is my Imperial will that the payment arranged between us shall be doubled from this date. Salutations.

“Wilhelm R. and I.”

Could any letter be more incriminating? The Kaiser, with his constant appeals to Almighty God, was suggesting outrage and assassination to his paid agent—the man who, aided by the Prime Minister Stürmer and the blackmailer Protopopoff, held the future of Russia in his unwashed hands!

For half-an-hour the young Dutch woman, the Kaiser’s secret messenger, was kept waiting in an ante-room while the Empress consulted with her “Holy Father.” Then at last Her Majesty handed the woman an autograph letter to take back to the Emperor William. All that is knows of the contents of that note is that it contained a promise that Germany should triumph.

What chance had poor suffering Russia against such crafty underhand conspiracy? Every one of her proposed military movements were being betrayed to Germany long before they were executed, and thousands of lives of her fine soldiers were daily being sacrificed, while the arch-traitor Rasputin continued his career of good-living, heavy-drinking, and bi-weekly “reunions.”

At these meetings the blackguard usually crossed his hands upon his breast, and with appalling blasphemy declared himself sent by the Almighty to deliver Russia from the invader.

Towards all—to society, to those of the immoral cult that he had founded, to Russia’s millions, he posed as a stern patriot. Every one believed him to be so. If not, surely, he would not be so closely intimate with their Majesties they argued. Nobody in Russia dreamed that he was the agent of the Kaiser, or that the Empress had full knowledge of the great plot in progress.

In the following month there occurred a number of mysterious disasters. Four explosions occurred in rapid succession; two at Petrograd, one at Moscow, and one at Kostrovna, all involving considerable loss of life, while troop trains were derailed at several important junctions, and other outrages committed, by which it was apparent that German agents were actively work. Yet the police were powerless to detect the perpetrators of these dastardly acts. Truly the black eagle of Prussia had struck its talons deep into Russia’s heart.

Late one night Rasputin was carousing at his house with the Prime Minister Stürmer and two “sister-disciples,” young married women whose names were Baroness Gliuski and Madame Pantuhine, well-known in Petrograd society for their loose living, and who were helping the plotters and receiving large sums from German sources for their assistance. The “Father” had only an hour before returned from Tsarskoe-Selo, where he had knelt at the bedside of the poor little Tsarevitch and then performed a pretended miracle. The truth was that Madame Vyrubova had administered to the boy in secret several doses of that secret drug with which the mock-monk had provided her. In consequence, he had become ill and his Imperial mother had once again called Rasputin to “heal” him. This the fellow did, for Madame Vyrubova withheld the dose, and within four hours of Rasputin placing his dirty hands upon the poor boy’s brow and uttering those cabalistic nine words of jargon from one of the blasphemous prayers which the scoundrel had written for use by the “sister-disciples,” the heir had recovered. And in that way, with his degenerate confederate, the rascal worked his “miracles.”

The four were seated around the monk’s dining-table, smoking and drinking, the two women ever and anon devotedly kissing the “saint’s” dirty hands, when his body-servant entered with a note for his master. As Rasputin read it his face fell.

“Danger!” he gasped.

“What is it?” inquired the bearded Prime Minister eagerly, putting down his glass of champagne untouched.

“Letchitzki! He is arrested!”

“Letchitzki!” echoed Boris Stürmer, who was in uniform, as he had been to a diplomatic function at the United States Embassy that night. “This is indeed serious for us! Why is he arrested? Who has dared to do that?”

“Goutchkoff, Minister of Munitions, has ordered his arrest for embezzlement—ninety thousand roubles!”

“Curse Goutchkoff!” cried Stürmer, starting up. “In that case, our friend Protopopoff, as Minister of the Interior, is powerless to act in his interest!”

“Is it really very serious?” asked the fair-haired young Baroness, who was at that moment holding the “saint’s” hand.

“Serious!” cried the uncouth Siberian peasant, who had so completely hypnotised both the women. “Very. If his trial took place he would certainly expose us! We cannot afford that. He has sent me this secret message placing the onus of his release upon me, and I must secure it at once. He has documents, letters I have written him. If they were found, then the whole affair must become public property!”

“That must not be!” declared Stürmer. “At any moment Miliukoff, or that young lawyer Kerensky, may get to know.”

“Kerensky was again arrested yesterday at my orders for his speech in the Duma,” said Rasputin. “I agree. The prosecution of Letchitzki must not proceed. It is far too dangerous.”

“Is there anything I can do?” asked the pretty Baroness, one of the most unscrupulous women in Russia.

“Yes,” replied the monk. “You know the Minister Goutchkoff. Go to him early to-morrow morning, and appeal on Letchitzki’s behalf. Take with you ninety thousand roubles which I will give you as soon as the banks open. Pretend to the Minister that he is your lover, that he has embezzled the money to pay for presents to yourself—then hand over the sum missing.”

“Excellent idea!” declared Stürmer. “You are always ingenious when cornered, Gregory!”

“By that we shall clear the way for further action. We must both see the Empress at once. It is not yet too late,” Rasputin added, and the merry quartette at once broke up, the “sister-disciples” to their own homes, and the monk to drive to the Palace.

Both conspirators, so well-known, passed the sentries unchallenged, and traversing the long corridors to the private apartments, went by the gigantic Cossack on duty at the end, and through the big swing-doors to the luxurious wing of the great Palace.

It was already long past midnight, and the only person they could find was the Tsar’s eldest daughter, the Grand Duchess Olga, who had with the eldest of her sisters entered Rasputin’s “sisterhood” a year before. Every one, including the servants, had retired. The Princess, who was reading an English novel in her own little sitting-room, appeared surprised to see the “Holy Father” at that hour, but took from him an urgent message to the Empress.

Ten minutes later the Tsaritza, in a dainty lace boudoir-cap and rich silk kimono, entered the room where the pair of scoundrels awaited her.

When alone, Rasputin revealed the fact of Letchitzki’s arrest, adding:

“Thou canst realise the great danger to us all. If that man is brought before the Court believing that we have not endeavoured to save him, he will, no doubt, reveal and produce certain letters I have sent to him. Our plans will then become public, and Russia will rise and crush us! At present they do not suspect thee of any pro-German leanings. Thou art the great and patriotic Tsaritza. But if this prosecution proceeds, then assuredly will the truth become known!”

“But, Holy Father, what can I do?” asked the weak hysterical woman, alarmed and distracted.

“Thou must telegraph at once to thy husband to order the prosecution to be dropped,” said the crafty scoundrel, standing in that erect attitude he was so fond of assuming, with one hand upon his breast and the other behind his back.

“I will do all that you wish,” was her eager response, and she sat down at once to write the message to the Tsar who, on that night, was with his gallant soldiers at the front.

“Paul Letchitzki, Under-Secretary of the Ministry of Munitions, has been arrested for embezzlement of public funds,” she wrote. “It is highly necessary, for our peace, that the prosecution shall be instantly stopped. Every moment’s delay means danger. I will explain when you return. Telegraph your order for his immediate release and the end of all proceedings against him. I await your acknowledgment.—Alec.”

Then, having read the telegram, of which both men approved, she gave Rasputin her golden bangle from her wrist. From it was suspended the tiny master-key of the escritoire in her boudoir.

“Will you, my Holy Father, fetch me my private cipher-book?” she asked the mock-monk, at the same time bending and kissing his hand.

The fellow knew where the little book was kept in such privacy, and in a few moments he had brought it. Then Stürmer at once sat down and put the message into cipher, afterwards taking it himself to the clerk in the telegraph room on the other side of the Palace, for transmission to the Emperor.

At ten o’clock next morning a reply in code was handed to the Empress. When, with the aid of her little book, she de-coded it, she read:

“I cannot understand how the prosecution of a thief of whose name I am ignorant can affect us adversely. I have, however, at your desire ordered his release and the suppression of all proceedings.—Nikki.”

To this, the Tsaritza, after she had sent a copy of the reassuring despatch to Rasputin, replied:

“I thank you for your kind generosity. How noble of you! Accused was an innocent victim of his enemies, and our action shows that you are open and just. Our Father and myself anxiously await your return.—Alec.” The moment Rasputin received the message from the hands of the trusted Cossack, Ivan Khanoff, the personal guardian of the young Tsarevitch, whom the Empress trusted with all her private correspondence, he telegraphed to Boris Stürmer at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, telling him of the order of the Tsar.

And both laughed triumphantly at each other over the telephone. Yet both certainly had had a very narrow escape of exposure, and for the first time the Tsaritza saw the handwriting on the wall.

Chapter Five.

Rasputin’s Secret Orders from Berlin.

Some pages of Rasputin’s dossier concern his intimate friendship with the Imperial family, and more especially with the Tsar’s daughters, whom the Empress herself had placed beneath his “tuition” and influence.

It seems that the monk Helidor—who because of his patriotism fell out of favour when Rasputin commenced to perform his conjuring tricks, which the Imperial Court believed to be miracles—still retained his friendship with the Grand Duchess Olga, and the governess of the Imperial children, the honest and straightforward Madame Tutcheva.

To Helidor—who afterwards revealed all he knew to the Revolutionary Party—the young Grand Duchess confessed her love for a certain very handsome officer, Nicholas Loutkievitch, of the Imperial Guard. She saw him often in the vicinity of the Palace, and also when she went to church, and he used to smile at her.

“Holy Father,” she said one clay to Helidor, “what can I do? I love him. But alas! love is forbidden to me—for I am an Imperial princess. It is my torment.”

Helidor had tried to console her by saying that she was young, and that she would love many times before she found the man who was to be her husband. It was surely not strange that the handsome young Grand Duchess should be attracted by a handsome man, for after all, even Imperial princesses are human.

Helidor, who belonged to the Pravoslavny Church, under Bishop Teofan, saw Rasputin a few days later and incidentally mentioned the youthful infatuation of the young Princess.

“Oh! I have already cured all that!” said the scoundrel with a laugh. “Her infatuation has been dispelled. I have cast the devil out of her.” Then Rasputin boastingly disclosed to Helidor certain things which left no doubt in the latter’s mind as to the true state of affairs existing at Tsarskoe-Selo, or the truth of what Madame Tutcheff had alleged.

Indeed, among the filed pages of the dossier which deal with this particular incident, is a letter which I venture here to reproduce. Rasputin, with all his mujik’s shrewdness, preserved many letters written to him by women of all grades, hoping that when cast out of the Imperial circle he could use them for purposes of blackmail. Here is one of them:

“Palace of Peterhof.

“March 23rd, 1916.

“Holy Father,—Dear true friend, we are all desolate without you. When are you returning from Pokrovsky? You promised to be here on the third, yet we have had no word from you. Dear true friend and father, how is Matroysha (Rasputin’s peasant wife)—and the children? Give my love to them. Tatiana and I are sending them some things by the courier to-day. Each time we go to Anna’s (Madame Vyrubova) all is but blank despair. We miss our sweet and helpful reunions, and long always for your return. You, my holy Father, are my inestimable friend. I no longer think of Nicholas, but of you alone, and of our holy religion. My mother is desolate without you. Pray for me. I kiss your dear hands. Your loving daughter, Olga.”

I copy this from the great mass of papers before me—the documentary evidence of the tragic story of the downfall of the great Imperial House of Romanoff—in order that the reader may be able to form some slight idea of the marvellous, almost incredible grip which Germany had upon the Tsar’s family, his household and his nation through the medium of the verminous peasant who had declared himself a Heaven-sent apostle of God.

The moral atmosphere of the Court was shocking. Rasputin, chief agent of the Kaiser, was posing, just as the Kaiser himself posed, as a God-fearing, prayerful man sent by Divine-right as a deliverer. The monk’s mission was, however, to deliver Russia into the hands of Germany.

The next pages of the dossier contain advice notes of German funds paid to the “saint” through the most unsuspicious channels.

As instance of these I copy the following dates and extracts, the actual letters of advice themselves being of a pretended business character and of no importance:

April 6th.—Payment to His Excellency Boris Stürmer by Jules Wick, Morskaya 57, advocate, sum due from the estates of the late Baroness Nikeleuko, of Doubno.—78,600 roubles.

April 18th.—Payment made to Gregory Rasputin by Nicholas Pokotilo. Address Select Hotel, Ligovskaya 44, Petrograd, representatives of Messrs Solovoioff, of Odessa.—62,460 roubles.

June 1st.—Payment to His Excellency D.A. Protopopoff made for rent of lands at Vyazma, by Alexander Koltchak, agent of the estate of Prince Tchekmareff, less 15 per cent, commission to Messrs Montero and Company, of Kieff;—21,229 roubles.

June 3rd.—Payment to Vera Zoueff, dancer at Luna Park, by G. Merteus, Nevsky 81, Petrograd.—13,000 roubles. (The woman who passed as a Russian was one, Bertha Riehl, a German dancer, and a secret agent of Berlin.)

June 17th.—Payment to Sophie Tatistcheff (who had married Baron Roukhloff, one of the Tsar’s secretaries who had control of his Majesty’s private correspondence), by Safonov’s Bank, in settlement of an insurance claim for property destroyed by fire at Poltava.

I have copied these in their order of sequence, but the items number over one hundred, and reveal payments of huge sums of German secret service money to Rasputin and his friends, thus forming a most illuminating disclosure as to the manner in which Russia was rapidly being undermined.

With such dark forces at work in the very heart of the Empire, it is indeed marvellous that General Brusiloff could have effected his superhuman offensive between Pripet and the Roumanian frontier. He started with his four armies early in June, 1916, and by the middle of August had captured 7,757 officers, 350,845 men and 405 guns. Berlin became seriously alarmed at such a situation. All Rasputin’s plotting with Stürmer, Count Fredericks, Protopopoff, Countess Ignatieff, Madame Vyrubova, and a dozen other less prominent but equally importunate officials, together with all the steady stream of German marks flowing into Petrograd could not stem the Russian tide on the German and Austrian front’s. The Russian “steam-roller” seemed really progressing.

The Kaiser grew seriously alarmed. At the instigation of Count von Wedel, his right-hand in espionage and unscrupulous propaganda, a secret message was sent to Rasputin—a message which he preserved among his other papers. It runs as follows, and is in the German cipher of the Königgratzer-strasse of which the mock-monk kept a de-cipher in his interesting safe. Hence it has been available:

“F.G. 2,734—22.

“Memorandum from ‘Number 70,’ August 29th, 1916.

“It is deemed of extreme urgency that the offensive of the Pripet should at once cease; and be turned into a victory for the Central Powers as promised us in your despatch of July 1st. You are not keeping faith with us! What is wrong? S. (Stürmer, the Prime Minister) is inciting the Russians to victory in his speeches.

“His triumphant telegrams to Asquith must cease. They only serve to encourage the Allies. This advance must not continue. Further, the munition factories at Vologda and Bologoye have not yet been destroyed as we ordered. We know that K. (a clock-maker named Kartzoff who blew up the explosive works at Viborg in which 400 lives were lost), who did such good work in that direction, is arrested and shot, together with the woman R. (Mdlle. Raevesky, whose father was in the Ministry of the Interior under Protopopoff). We note that you gave information to the police concerning both persons, because they became lovers and were likely to open their mouths and thus become dangerous to us.

“Secret Instructions:— That to Nicholas Meder be entrusted the task of destroying the Vologda and Bologoye works, and that Madame Fleischer, who lives in Volkovo, be appointed as his assistant—each to receive six thousand roubles for their services.

“As your efforts to prevent the offensive in the Pripet region have failed up to the present, it is ordered that General Brusiloff be removed by the means already employed in other enemy countries. Send a trustworthy messenger to Doctor Klouieff, living in the Vozkresenskaya, in Kazan, to ask for ‘a tube.’ He will know. The contents of the tube introduced into any drink will produce tetanus—with a rapid end. Klouieff is German, and may be entirely trusted. Brusiloff has a body-servant named Ivan, Sawvitch who is a friend of Boris Koltchak, a soldier in the 117th Infantry Regiment of Muisk. Koltchak, who has been in our service for five years, is to be ordered and facilities rendered him to visit his friend Sawvitch at General Headquarters, and to introduce the contents of the tube into Brusiloff’s food or drink. For this service you are ordered to pay in secret twenty-five thousand roubles upon its completion. The man Sawvitch is in love with the sister of Koltchak, a fact which will ease certain difficulties. Be careful, however, of Marya Ustryaloff, who is jealous of the woman in question.

“General Korniloff may be removed by the accidental explosion of a hand-grenade, in the same manner in which General Zhukovsky was removed in March last at Pultusk. This service could be entrusted to the soldier Paul Krizhitsky, of the 17th Grenadiers of Moscow, who is a despatch-rider and constantly at the General Headquarters. He should examine the bomb—a pine-apple one, in preference, and release the pin by accident. For this service you can pay in secret up to eighteen thousand roubles.

“Further, it is urgent that you should induce the Emperor at once to order the release of the men Polenov and Levitsky, and the woman Erich, who were arrested in the Hotel Brosi at Vitebsk. Their papers, if found, must be restored to them. The documents are probably stored in the strong rooms of either the Ootchotny Bank, in the Hevsky, or at Lampe’s. So get hold of them, as they contain facts incriminating S. (Stürmer) and V (Madame Vyrubova). It is of most urgent importance that the prosecution in question be dismissed, and further, that those who instigated it should be degraded in pursuance of our policy. For this service you will be granted a generous extra payment. S.—70.” The signature, scribbled in blue ink upon these remarkable instructions, is that of the notorious Herr Steinhauer, the Kaiser’s chief spy and controller of the whole secret ramifications of Imperial Germany throughout the civilised world. I venture to publish it in these pages in order to show the devilish cunning of Germany, and their frantic efforts, by any underground and dastardly means, to stem the tide of war which threatened to overwhelm them.

In consequence of these instructions Rasputin immediately set to work to execute the wicked command of His Imperial Master in Berlin.

On the day following that secret message being delivered into his hands by a woman dressed as a peasant, as, descending from his carriage, he entered a house in the Nevski, he walked into the Emperor’s private study and, placing his hand across his breast in that mock-pious attitude he so often assumed, he said:

“Friend! Thou hast always been held by thy people to be a just and honest ruler; but in Vitebsk those who act in thy Imperial name are acting illegally and persecuting two poor men and a woman with motives of revenge. God has placed His holy protecting hand upon our dear Russia, and has given victory unto our gallant Brusiloff. But if injustice be done in thy Imperial name then the Divine Providence will most assuredly withdraw protection from us.”

“What is this, Holy Father?” asked the Emperor in great surprise.

“At Vitebsk two men, Polenov and Levitsky, together with a woman called Erich, three patriotic Russians who have, been engaged in Red Cross work—have, because of the ill-will of the Governor Wauthier, been apprehended, and false charges instituted against them.”

“Of what nature?”

“Of communicating with the enemy—a vague charge which to-day may be made against even the most patriotic,” replied the monk, the “Holy Father” of the Empress, standing in that same attitude he had at first assumed. “From the Holy Father of the monastery at Vitebsk I have received a confidential, and urgent report that the Governor Wauthier, an ill-living official, has instituted these false charges in order to conceal his own disgraceful misdeeds, which the woman Erich has threatened to expose.”

Then, after a pause, the dissolute monk and secret agent of the German Emperor said in that insolent, familiar manner he assumed when addressing the Tsar:

“Friend! This Governor, against whom the Holy Father at Vitebsk sends me secret information, should be dismissed and disgraced, and thy three innocent subjects released. If thou wilt permit injustice in thy Empire, then the success of thy arms cannot be maintained.”

“Holy Father,” said the weak impotent monarch, “the Governor shall be dismissed. Pass me over a telegraph-form.”

And Rasputin took from the writing-table one of the forms upon which the Tsar wrote his autocratic orders, and actually at the monk’s dictation His Majesty wrote an order for this release of the prisoners and the dismissal of the innocent, patriotic Governor, against whom the lying agent of the Kaiser had, according to his instructions from Berlin, laid a charge!

Truly the great patriotic Russian Empire had already fallen beneath the “Mailed Fist,” even though thousands of her sons were daily sacrificing their lives to secure her freedom.

On the day following, Petkoff; who had already opened his separatist propaganda among the Ukrainian prisoners, in favour of Germany, arrived hot-foot in Petrograd, and spent some hours with Rasputin at his house, where the Prime Minister Stürmer and His Excellency Protopopoff were also closeted. The secret meeting was held at three o’clock and lasted until eight, when one of the Imperial carriages came from the Winter Palace, as it did daily, to convey the “Holy Father” there.

The Emperor had left again for the front three hours before, but the Empress remained. The dirty monk at once sought her, explaining that Germany had reached the last limits of her power upon the eastern front, and urgently needed a slackening of the Russian offensive.

“It is truly God’s will that our friends the Germans shall not be crushed!” declared the cunning blackguard. “Are we not told that if we are smitten by an enemy upon one cheek we should turn the other? I declare to thee that if we press our enemies further, then the wrath of God will assuredly fall upon thy house—and upon thy son the Tsarevitch,” he said in his low base voice, crossing himself piously the while.

Indeed, that night, so deeply did the charlatan impress the poor Empress that she sat trembling at the fate which must be Russia’s should Brusiloff’s victory be maintained.

Incredible as it may seem, the Kaiser now held Russia in the hollow of his hand. No despatch from Petrograd to the Allies; no order for material; no communication of whatever sort, Imperial, diplomatic or private, but copies were at once transmitted to the Wilhelmstrasse, where the negotiations were known as soon as they were in Downing Street—and sometimes sooner!

Within a fortnight of Rasputin’s grim prophecy of Russia’s downfall if she further defied the Imperial power of Germany, the cunning plot to infect General Brusiloff with tetanus was attempted by the soldier Koltchak, while in a train conveying him from Borisoff to Petrograd, on a flying visit to consult with the Minister of War. Happily the plot failed, but the coffee in which the deadly culture had been placed was, alas! unfortunately drunk by a certain Major Dobrovolski, who died mysteriously and in great agony four days later; the General, of course, being entirely ignorant of Berlin’s vile plot against him.

An attempt was also made upon General Korniloff at Chernitsa ten days later. A soldier who had no business near, handled a hand-grenade carelessly, just as the General happened to be riding by. The bomb exploded, killing the General’s horse on the spot, but he himself escaped with a deep cut over the left eye. Everybody, of course, believed it to be a pure accident, therefore the affair was never reported.

These two attempts upon the lives of Russia’s military leaders, the documentary evidence of which exists, were only the forerunners of several others even more ingenious and more desperate, as I shall later on disclose in these pages.

The failure of the attempts to assassinate Brusiloff and Korniloff, and the continuation of the Russian offensive, now caused the greatest consternation in Berlin, where it was believed that Rasputin was neglecting the work for which he was being paid so heavily.

A message was conveyed to him through Swedish sources telling him of the Kaiser’s extreme displeasure at the failure of the plans, and reminding him of His Majesty’s words when he had had secret audience and accepted the Imperial proposals to become chief agent of Germany in Russia. Certain further instructions were also given as matters of extreme urgency. The Russian progress had aroused the most serious fears in Berlin.

Meanwhile the monk’s ambition knew no bounds. With marvellous cunning he was busy blackmailing a number of unfortunate society women who, having entered his cult, had afterwards abandoned it, and while being the practical ruler of Russia, because of the Tsaritza’s devotion to him, yet he was daily plotting with his pro-German friends for the nation’s downfall.

At each of the reunions of his sister-disciples he would strut about and play the part of “saint.” On each occasion he would declare: “If you repulse me, God will abandon you! I am the chosen of God—sent to deliver Holy Russia!”

To those who were sceptical he would speak more plainly and convincingly, saying “If you do not obey me, then I will see that you are punished by my friends.” So by this means he surrounded himself by an increasing number of hysterical women whose wealth he exploited, and from whom he took bribes to procure high places, distinctions and decorations for their husbands and brothers or their lovers.

Indeed, before him the highest officials in the Empire bowed, crossed themselves, and kissed his hand—not because he was a priest—but because they constantly feared lest they should incur his displeasure, well knowing that if they did, they would at once be superseded.

At Peterhof, or at Tsarskoe-Selo, the actions of the bearded blackguard were believed to be inspired by Providence. This dissolute Siberian fakir, the Madame Vyrubova, and her Imperial mistress, the Tsaritza, formed a trinity which ruled the Empire at war; and thousands of brave Russian soldiers died in consequence.

The pro-German propaganda, fostered in secret by the dissolute three, was permeating every department of the State, and was even being spread among the armies at the front. At each success of the Russians the Empress would grow irritable and despondent, while the slightest success of the enemy caused her to be wildly jubilant. One day, at one of the séances of the higher circle of Sister-Disciples held at Tsarskoe-Selo, news was conveyed to Her Majesty that the Germans were retreating and that their fortified base at Vladimir Volgnsk, near Lutsk, had been captured. Thereupon the Empress cried in great distress:

“Why is this allowed! Why is this advance against the Germans not stopped? Russia will never crush Germany. She shall not do so! Holy Father! pray for our dear Germany!”

“O Sister! In thy heart harbour neither fear nor distrust, for indeed God hath revealed unto me that there will be a separate peace and the ultimate triumph of the German arms,” replied the mock-saint, assuming his most pious attitude, with his hands crossed upon the Russian blouse of rich dark blue silk deeply embroidered with gold, which it was his habit to wear at the séances at Court. “While on my pilgrimage last week with Father Macaire, in the Monastery of Verkhotursky, I had a vision.”

“A vision!” echoed the Empress, while her daughter Olga and a dozen ladies of the Court sat agape and eager. “Holy Father, tell us of what has been revealed,” urged Her Majesty.

“I saw hosts of men entering a great city as conquerors—hordes from the west bringing to us all the benefits and a higher civilisation. I saw His Majesty the German Emperor advance and grasp the hand of thy Imperial husband the Tsar, and kiss him fraternally upon both cheeks. And over all was set the halo of God’s glory, and Russia rejoiced that she had cast off the yoke of her Allies.”

“God be thanked!” gasped the Empress hysterically. “Then we need no longer fear. Truly Heaven is good to send thee to us, dear Father!” she added, taking his rough hand, with its bulgy knuckles and unclean nails, and kissing it fervently, while all her Court echoed the words so constantly used at the gatherings of the cult: “Holy Father! God be thanked that we are thy chosen sisters.”

On the following day, however, Rasputin having returned to his house in Petrograd, a secret meeting was held at the house of a man named Roukhloff, situate in the Vereiskaya. The meeting was convened by certain of the monk’s enemies in order to expose him as an impostor and a charlatan. It must be remembered that none dreamed that the scoundrel was the direct secret agent of the Kaiser himself, or that Stürmer and Protopopoff were anything else than fine sterling Russian patriots. All three were urging every one to “get on with the war.”

And with this in mind it induces one to wonder whether a similar farce is not to-day being played in certain political circles in other countries of the Allies!

Rasputin had many friends, but he had also made many bitter enemies. As an outcome of that secret meeting, the man Roukhloff, son of a functionary in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, defied the authorities and publicly denounced the “Saint” as “a dangerous erotic humbug.” The effect was electrical. The Emperor, with the Empress, Count Frédéricks, and Madame Vyrubova, was in the Imperial train, travelling to the Crimea. The moment of that hostile attack was well-chosen, and for a time the “Saint’s” position was a precarious one. But as soon as it became known in Petrograd that he had been denounced, his house was crowded by his faithful sister-disciples, who would have no word said against him.

He at once announced his intention to return to Siberia, and addressing them with his usual mock piety, said:

“The people of Petrograd have cast out the man sent to them by God. I will return to my monastery at Pokrovsky, and pray for their salvation. Assuredly God will punish the disbelievers. You, my sisters, keep faith in your belief. If I never return—then pray for me.”

An hour afterwards the impostor left for the Nicolas Station, accompanied by a crowd of women-believers of all classes, but instead of travelling to Siberia he changed his route at Moscow and hurried in the track of their Majesties. Meanwhile, the ill-living Archbishop Teofan, who had declared that he “heard in the Holy Father Rasputin the voice of God,” and that to hound him from Petrograd meant the incurring of the Divine displeasure and the downfall of the Empire, and Bishop Hermogène, another of the monk’s creations who had also belauded him, now both saw an opportunity of denouncing the monk’s duplicity and malpractices, and thereby securing the favour of the people for themselves.

This they did, and in consequence a great sensation was caused in society, both in Petrograd and in Moscow. In the Duma, Rasputin was openly denounced by M. Goutchkoff, a man of large experience and who had worked in the Manchuria campaign and done much to assist the Grand Duke Nicholas and General Alexeieff in the munition crisis of 1915. He was Director of the Committee of War Industries, and had, introduced into this committee some highly capable Labour delegates, who were now no longer blinded by the halo of sanctity which Rasputin had assumed for himself.

Thus a storm suddenly burst over the head of the holy rascal who had practised his abominations under his pseudo-religious cloak, and who was at the same time secretly plotting for the triumph of Germany.

But so cleverly did he juggle with the future of the Russian Empire that he went post-haste across Europe, down to Yalta in the Crimea, and on arrival drove through the pine woods to the Imperial Palace. He arrived there at six o’clock in the morning, after a long and fatiguing journey. But such was his iron nerve and strong constitution that he was as fresh as when he bade farewell to his clinging devotees in Petrograd who had so fervently kissed his dirty hands.

He had the audacity to go straight to the Tsar’s dressing-room, and there met His Majesty as he was coming from his bath. Naturally Nicholas II was surprised, and on inquiring the reason of his unexpected visit, the “Saint” exclaimed:

“They have driven me, the man of the Lord, from Petrograd! I go back to Siberia to dwell there in peace. But God will now assuredly weak vengeance upon Russia, and all that she holds most dear—as well as upon thy son and heir.”

“But, Holy Father!” gasped the Emperor, “what has happened? Tell me.”

As the Tsar sat in his red bath-wrap, the unwashed “Saint” made explanation that both the Church and the Duma had declared him to be an impostor, adding:

“I will not trouble myself over those who defame me. They are as dust. God has sent me to Russia, and the Russians have despised me.”

“But who are your enemies?” asked His Majesty anxiously.

That was the question which Rasputin intended that the Emperor should ask. At once he explained that the Archbishop Teofan and Bishop Hermogène had both turned against him, and in consequence the Tsar called his servant to bring him a telegraph-form at once.

“Whither shall I send those persons?” asked His Majesty.

“Nowhere. Let them work their evil will against thy Empire. God will himself punish them!” replied the fakir and ex-thief who had self-assumed the title of “Father.”

“I shall leave to-night for Siberia, and shall not return.”

“No. Forgive them, Holy Father,” urged the Emperor apprehensively. “For my sake and for Russia’s sake forgive them. I will send Teofan, your false friend, to the Taurida, and Hermogène shall retire to the monastery of Tobolsk. Helidor, too, is no friend of yours. He shall be sent to prison.”

“Thy will shall be done regarding the two first, but spare Helidor. He may yet be useful unto thee,” was the crafty mujik’s reply.

“Is there any other enemy who should be removed?” inquired the Emperor. “Tell me, Holy Father—and I will deal with him if you will still remain with us. If you leave, poor little Alexis will die.”

The mock-saint, sprawling his legs in the Emperor’s dressing-room, reflected for a few moments. He knew that by his own hand Russia was ruled.

“Yes,” he said presently. “God has told me to forgive my enemies. I will do so if thou wilt assist me. Too little consideration is given to our friends.”

“All consideration shall be given them. To whom do you refer?”

The monk drew from beneath his, long black habit a scrap of paper already prepared, and consulting, it, said:

“I wrote down here yesterday certain appointments which should be given to those who support thee, against thy enemies.” It was a list of favours which the rascal had promised to women for their male acquaintances, and from each he would receive a generous douceur, according to the means of the person indicated.

“You will note Ivan Scheveleff, of the Imperial chancellerie. He has served thee well for the past five years, and should have the title of Excellency, and consequent promotion,” said the religious rascal. “Again, there is Sergius Timacheff, of the Imperial printing works, who should be appointed a privy councillor; and Madame Grigoiovitch, who is in the Peter-and-Paul prison, should be released and amends made to her for the false charge upon which she was convicted at the instance of Michael Alexandrovitch.”

“I will telegraph orders in each case,” was the Emperor’s reply, as he lit a cigarette prior to his valet entering.

“And the salary of the Minister Protopopoff is far too little. It should be increased by at least one-half. He is thy most devout and devoted friend and servant of Russia.”

“That shall be done,” was the monarch’s weak reply. Little did His Majesty dream that Protopopoff was one of Russians traitors.

“Brusiloff should be watched, as there is evidence of treachery against him. Before the war he was friendly with a man named von Weber, an agent of Germany. Nekrasov, Minister of Communications, is also a traitor, and should be dismissed,” said the monk, thus denouncing two of Russia’s strongest and most patriotic fighters, who were perfectly innocent.

“It shall be done,” replied the Emperor quietly. “Father, I am glad you have, told me.” Indeed, owing, to the false statements of pro-German police officials, General Brusiloff was within an ace of arrest a week later. The Minister Nekrasov, however, received his dismissal, Protopopoff being one of his enemies, and in that manner was the monk playing Germany’s game.

Thus the evil power of this arch-scoundrel was paramount. By his influence men were made and broken daily. Indeed, to-day dozens of men who because of their suspicion of the saint’s “divinity,” incurred the blasphemer’s displeasure are, languishing in gaol in various remote parts of the Empire, while German agents occupied some of the “highest offices in Russia,” while the head of the Church of holy Russia had been appointed by the unwashed blackguard himself.

As proof of this interview at Livadia, the dossier of Gregory Rasputin, the Siberian Cagliostro, which is before me, contains the following letter:

“Rizhsky Prospect, 37.

“My dear Father,—I have heard that you have left upon a pilgrimage to your own monastery in Siberia. May God be with you, and bless you. To-day my title of Excellency is officially announced. My bankers have passed to yours the sum of 30,000 roubles. There will be a further sum of 10,000 roubles passed if you will kindly send me, under cover, those two letters of the Countess Birileff. I await your reply.—Ivan Scheveleff.”

Rasputin’s mania for filing his correspondence is the basis of our true knowledge of his astounding career and activity, for the next folio in the dossier is a copy of a blackmailing letter he wrote a few weeks after his visit to the Crimea, to the man Sergius Timacheff. It reads as follows:

“Friend,—It is now many days since His Majesty appointed you Privy Councillor of the Empire, but I have received no word from you or from your bank as we arranged. If I receive nothing by next Thursday, the facts concerning your son’s implication in the Platanoff affair (the blowing up of a Russian battleship in the Baltic by German agents) will be passed on to the Admiralty. If double the sum we arranged passes to my bank before the date I have named, I shall remain silent. If not, I shall take immediate action.—G.”

The “holy” blackmailer was becoming more and more unscrupulous. Behind him he had the Emperor and Empress, soothed to sleep by his marvellous cunning and his mock miracles. Incredible as it seems, he was able to evade all the many pitfalls set for him by his enemies, because he swept them all from his path by Imperial orders and stood forth alone as the “Holy Father,” sent by Providence to create a new and prosperous Russia.

He had no fear of death. He wore a shirt of mail, and the Palace police, the same ever-alert surveillance as that placed upon the person of the Tsar himself, kept a watchful eye upon him, though through Protopopoff they had orders to relinquish their watchfulness at any moment the “Saint” deemed it necessary.

He frequently deemed it necessary if he held his conferences with Stürmer, Protopopoff, Anna Vyrubova, and the small camarilla of persons who were being so richly rewarded by mysterious incomes from estates they did not possess—or, plainly speaking, by money from Berlin.

Rasputin saw that in order to keep faith with his “sister-disciples” in Petrograd, it was necessary for him to journey again to his Siberian village. He therefore declared to the Emperor that he had much business there, and promised that he would return to Peterhof as soon as the Imperial family arrived there.

When the Tsar of all the Russias had bent and kissed the monk’s filthy hands, and promised that his orders should be despatched at once by telegram to Petrograd, the monk sought the Empress, told her what had occurred, explaining how his enemies had denounced “the man sent by God.” The Tsaritza sat appalled. Could the Russian people have denounced her “Holy Father”? To her it seemed impossible. She bent before the rascal and wept bitterly.

“Oh, Sister!” he said in his deep voice, “I will retire to Pokrovsky until these enemies of Russia have been discomfited and defeated. Then, verily, I will return to stand beside thee and fight as thy friend, as God has commanded me.”

Then he took his leave and travelled to the so-called “monastery” he had established in his far-off Siberian village—the big house in which a dozen of his female devotees were so eagerly awaiting him.

Chapter Six.

Rasputin’s Secret Instructions from Berlin.

Now that Rasputin’s amazing career is being here investigated, chapter by chapter, the facts disclosed seem almost incredible, but, of course, such a situation could only have occurred in a country where nearly ninety per cent, of the priest-ridden inhabitants are unable to read or write, and which is in most things a full century behind the times.

Surely in no other country in all the world to-day could an illiterate, verminous mujik, who had actually been convicted and punished for the crimes of horse-stealing, falsely obtaining money, and assaulting two young girls, be accepted as a Divine healer, a “holy” man, and the saviour of Russia. Here was a man whose whole life had been one of scandalous ill-living, a low drunken libertine of the very worst and most offensive class, actually ruling the Empire as secret agent, of the Kaiser!

By the clever ruse of establishing his cult of “sister-disciples” he had so secured the ears of the weak-kneed Emperor and his consort, that whatever views he declared to them they at once became law. So amazingly cunning was he that he realised that the only way in which to retain the hold he had established at Court was now and then to absent himself from it, first making certain “prophecies,” the fulfilment of which could be effected by his secret friends.

As often as he uttered a prophecy and left Petrograd upon one of his erotic adventures—to found provincial circles of the cult of Believers—so surely would that prophecy come true. He foretold the downfall of one official, the death of another upon a certain date, a further relapse of the Tsarevitch, and so on, until their Majesties held him in awe as heaven-inspired. In the high Court circle of which he was the centre, this “Holy Father” could do no wrong, while his most disgraceful exploits, scandals unprintable, were merely regarded as mundane pleasures allowable to him as a “saint.”

No reign since the days of the Caesars was more fraught by disgraceful scandals than those last days of the régime of the ill-fated Romanoffs. The Roman empresses were never traitors as the Tsaritza most certainly was. Can any one have sympathy with the once-Imperial, afterwards exiled to Siberia—that same zone of that illimitable tundra to which the Tsar of all the Russias had exiled so many of his innocent and patriotic subjects, men and women who fought for Russia’s right to live, to expand, and to prosper? Let us remember that in Siberia to-day lie the bones of a hundred thousand Russian patriots, persecuted under the evil régimes of Alexander and of Nicholas. In the days of the ex-Tsar’s father I went to Siberia, and I visited the convict prisons there. I saw convicts in the mines chained to wheelbarrows by forged fetters, and I saw those poor tortured wretches who worked in the dreaded quicksilver mines of Nertchinsk, their teeth falling out and their scalps bare. Of what I myself witnessed, I years ago placed on record in black and white. Those reports of mine will be found in the public libraries of Great Britain. But to-day they do not concern the reader of this book only inasmuch as they furnish proofs, with others, of the oppressive hand of the Romanoffs upon the devoted and long-suffering people of Holy Russia—“Holy”—save the mark! The erotic rascal Rasputin was in himself a striking example of the men who control the Paroslávny Church.

This mock-pious blackguard, to whose artful cunning and clever cupidity has been due the death of hundreds of thousands of brave Russians of all classes in the field, held the fortunes of the great Empire within the hollow of his dirty paw.

The contents of the big dossier of his private papers disclose this satanic scoundrel’s double-dealing, and the true terms in which he stood with the Wilhelmstrasse.

To me, as I study the documents, it is astounding how accurately the Germans had gauged who were their actual friends in Russia and who were their enemies. Surely their sources of information were more astounding and more complete than even the great Stiebur, the King of Spydom, had ever imagined.

It sterns that while Rasputin was living a dissolute life at the “monastery” he had established in his far-off native village of Pokrovsky, he received many telegrams from Tsarskoe-Selo, both from the Emperor and Empress, urging him to forgive his traducers and to return. To none of these he responded. One day, however, he received a telegraphic message which came over the wires as a Government one, marked “On His Imperial Majesty’s Service,” from Madame Vyrubova. Its copy is here before me, and reads:

“Return at once to Petrograd. A dear friend from afar, awaits you. It is most urgent that you should come back at once. There is much to be done.—Anna.”

Such an urgent summons showed him that his presence was required. He knew too well that the “dear friend” was a German agent sent in secret to see him.

Therefore he bade farewell to his dozen “sister-disciples,” the head of whom was the opulent “Sister Vera,” sister of the dissolute Bishop Teofan whom Rasputin himself had created. Teofan was a fellow-criminal of his who had been imprisoned for horse-stealing in Tobolsk, and now he wore richly embroidered ecclesiastical robes and bent the knee before the altar daily.

In consequence of this message from his friend Anna, Rasputin hastened back to Petrograd.

Now Madame Vyrubova was Rasputin’s tool throughout. Hers had been a strange history. Her past had been shrouded in mystery, yet I here disclose it for the first time. As Mademoiselle Tanéieff, daughter of the director of the private chancellerie of the Tsar, she became five years before one of the maids-of-honour of the Empress. A pretty, high-spirited girl, she at first amused and afterwards attracted the neurotic spouse of the stolid, weak-minded Autocrat. In due course she married a rather obscure but good-looking naval officer named Vyrubova—a lieutenant on board the cruiser Kazan. The husband, after a year at sea, learned certain scandals, and therefore he went one night boldly to the Emperor—who happened to be at Peterhof—and asked that he might divorce his wife.

His Majesty was both surprised and angry. He made inquiry, and discovered a very curious state of affairs—a scandal that had been hushed up and is now revealed by the new light shining upon Russian Court life and the internal scandals of the Empire.

Briefly put. His Majesty found that his wife the Empress had fallen in love with a certain General O—. The dark-haired Madam Vyrubova had acted as go-between for the couple—a fact which her husband knew, and threatened to expose as a vulgar scandal if the Emperor did not allow his divorce! It seemed that General O— had rather slighted the Empress, and had taken up with a certain Princess B—, who had been on the stage, and who was declared to be one of the prettiest women in all Russia. The General had followed the beautiful princess to Cairo. A week later at Assouan, in Upper Egypt, he had been seized by a mysterious illness and died. The explanation given to the Emperor by the husband Vyrubova was that the General had fallen a victim to the jealousy of his wife the Empress.

The Tsar made secret inquiry, and to his surprise found that all the officer had asserted had been correct. Madame Vyrubova had at the Empress’s orders followed the General and arranged his death. Therefore His Majesty could do nothing else than allow the officer to divorce his wife, who, truth to tell, was the catspaw of the poisoner Rasputin, who held her in his grip.

These widespread ramifications of the mock-monk’s influence and his power created by the judicious expenditure of German palm-oil are utterly astounding. The more deeply one delves into this voluminous dossier, the more amazing does it become, until the enemy’s wicked attempts to undermine Russia, our ally, almost stagger belief.

When Rasputin at last returned to Petrograd, in response to the orders of the handsome Anna, he was handed a secret communication from Germany.

This confidential despatch, as it lies here before me, speaks for itself. It is in a German letter-cipher, different from all the others, and for a considerable time it defied all efforts, to decipher it. At last it was accomplished by the Russian Secret Police, and it certainly reveals a most dastardly series of amazingly cunning plots. Here it is:

“Memorandum 26874.327.

”‘Number 70’ is sending to you Sister Molfetta, of the Italian Red Cross, whose number is 168. She will leave Berlin on the 3rd prox, and travel by way of Gothenburg. Please inform P. (Protopopoff) and request him to give her his protection and prepare her dear passport. She will stay at the house of B. (Bukoff, a furrier in the Vereiskaya, who was a German agent and assistant to Rasputin); you will call upon her there.

“The object of her mission is to cultivate friendly relations with the barrister Alexander Kerensky, who, though at present obscure, will, it is here believed, shortly make his influence felt very strongly against us. The woman 168 has orders to compromise him, and afterwards create a public scandal in order to discredit him in the eyes of the public.

“Further, we seriously view the strength of Kerensky and the influence he may exert in the prosecution of the war, therefore we leave it to your personal discretion whether or not he should be removed. Number 168 possesses the means, and will act upon your orders.

“Secret Instructions.—You are to inform His Majesty in confidence that M.I. Tereshchenko (now Minister for Foreign Affairs) is dangerous, and should be arrested. If his house in Kiev is searched, compromising papers which have been placed there by S. (a German agent named Schumacher) will be discovered. Tereshchenko is threatening to expose your friend S. (Stürmer, Prime Minister), and should it once be suppressed by imprisonment.

“The letter herewith enclosed please give into the hands of Her Majesty the Empress in secret. Also inform her that the wishes she has expressed in her last letter to His Majesty shall be carried out.

“You are to inform S. and P. (Stürmer and Protopopoff) that the shortage of food in Russia is, owing to Birileff’s indecisive policy, not sufficiently marked. He must be dismissed upon grounds of incompetence, and they must appoint a new Food Controller who will, connive, by holding up supplies, to create a famine. An epidemic, if spread in Moscow, Kazan, Kharkow, Odessa, and other cities at the same time as the famine, would greatly contribute towards Germany’s success. The matter has already been discussed, and an outbreak of cholera suggested. You should consider the suggestion at your end, and if you decide upon it, the necessary steps can easily be taken, though we consider nothing should be done in Petrograd, because of yourselves and the Imperial family.

“The bearer of this will remain in Petrograd four days, and then bring back any news you can send regarding the future situation. Matters are now becoming desperate with us. Hindenburg has decided that at all hazards we must withdraw troops from your frontier, and send them to the west. We rely upon you and your friends to create a famine, for which you will receive increased gratuities, as in the case of the retreat from Warsaw.”

Thus will it be seen that the “holy” blackguard, the right-hand and adviser of the Emperor Nicholas, was posing as the saviour of the great Russian Empire, whom Great Britain was supplying with munitions of war, and while he was everywhere declaring that Brusiloff’s strategy would wreck the German offensive, yet at the same time he was plotting famine and pestilence in the very heart of the Empire!

None knew this secret—except the German-born Tsaritza. From her, Rasputin held back nothing. In secret he showed her all the despatches he received from the Königgratzer-strasse. His influence upon Her Majesty at this stage is made vividly apparent by significant remarks which he made to Stürmer on the night after his return to Petrograd, and the delivery into his hands of that cipher despatch from Berlin as revealed above.

“My dear Excellency!” he said, tossing off a glass of vodka and eating some caviare at the great carved sideboard in his own room before sitting down to dinner, “you have been speaking of the Tsar and the Tsaritza. To the Tsar I am Christ, the saviour of Russia and the world! Their Majesties salute me; they bow to me and they kiss my hand. What higher sphere can I achieve? The Imperial children prostrate before me; they kiss my hands. Ah! my dear Excellency, I could disclose to you things which—well, which I could not relate without blushing!”

It was at this period, when a friend of the “holy” peasant, Striaptcheff, a fellow-thief of Pokrovsky and a man convicted of burglary, pressed his attentions upon the “Holy Father” and demanded an appointment. Incredible as it may appear, yet the criminal in question was six days later appointed as a bishop of the Russian Church, with the usual fat emoluments, and he could scarcely read or write. Truly Holy Russia was progressing beneath the Rasputin régime. She had a burglar as bishop.

Meanwhile, the monk proceeded at once to carry out his secret orders from Berlin.

We know that the camarilla held council a week later, and that Stürmer, Protopopoff, Striaptcheff—who had now become inseparable from Rasputin—as well as Manuiloff, an ex-journalist who conducted the secret police under Stürmer, were present at the monk’s house. At the meeting the false Red Cross sister from Berlin was also present.

It was agreed that it would be best to remove Kerensky, who, though a headlong enthusiast, would be a very difficult man for a woman to compromise. It was known that he possessed secret sources of knowledge regarding the intention of the camarilla to betray Russia into Germany’s hands, therefore the woman Molfetta was given orders to carry out her plot, to secure his assassination at the hands of a renegade Jew of Warsaw named Levinski, who was ready to commit any crime if paid for it.

The attempt was made three weeks later. While Kerensky, who lived to become afterwards Prime Minister of the new Government, was turning the corner by the Alexandra Hospital to cross the Fontanka to the Sadovaya, late one night, on his way home to the Offitzerskaya, he was shot at three times by the fellow Levinski. Each shot happily went wide, and as a result Alexander Kerensky still lives to pilot Russia to her freedom.

The manner in which the traitorous camarilla brought about a famine in the capital, and in certain districts in the Empire, until the people of Petrograd paraded the city crying “Give us bread, or end the war!” is well known to all. But how they attempted to carry out the dastardly orders of Berlin to create an epidemic of cholera at the same time, I will reveal with quotations from official documents in the next chapter.

Chapter Seven.

The Plot to Spread Epidemics in Russia.

In my work of unmasking Rasputin I find that constant secret communications were at that time passing between the “holy” scoundrel and his infamous paymasters in the Königgratzer-strasse, while messages were continually being exchanged in strictest confidence between the Kaiser and the German-born Tsaritza, who lived beneath the thraldom of this common horse-stealer.

Berlin, with all its devilish inventions for unfair warfare prohibited by the Hague Convention, had not overlooked the fact that owing to the primitive sanitation of Russia, epidemics had very often been widespread and most difficult to stamp out; therefore the suggestion to artificially produce outbreaks of bubonic plague and Asiatic cholera in the heart of the Empire had been suggested to that traitor, the Prime Minister Boris Stürmer, and his fellow-conspirators of the “camarilla,” of whom the Siberian charlatan known as “Holy Father” was the head. While the Imperial Court bowed its knees to the erotic rascal, yet strangely enough the people doubted him, and in secret jeered at him. The satanic suggestion from Berlin, however, appealed to the camarilla of pro-German plotters.

The Russian army was gallantly holding out, even though many traitors held highest commands. The Germans had reached the height of their offensive power on that front, and a separate peace with Russia was in Berlin admitted to be, highly necessary, if the ultimate success of their arms was to be achieved. Therefore, if a devastating epidemic broke out, then Stürmer would have excuse to go to the Tsar and strongly urge the necessity for peace as the only salvation of the Empire.

Hence the necessary steps were at once taken by the conspirators who were in the habit of meeting almost daily in the Gorokhovaya. Proof of what was on foot is disclosed by the following secret despatch from Berlin, which is included in Rasputin’s private papers, which so fortunately fell into the hands of the patriotic party of Russia. I here reproduce it:

“Memorandum 26932.366.

”‘Number 70’ has placed your communication and suggestions before a high quarter, and they are all approved. He is sending you, by way of Malmo, Karl Jöhnke, whose number is 229, a bacteriologist of the Frankfort Institute, who will arrive in Petrograd on the 18th, and seek you. By the same ship will arrive, consigned to our friends the firm of Yakowleff and Company, wholesale fruiterers, of the Nikolskaya, in Moscow, one hundred and twenty-six barrels of Canadian apples, with ninety cases of Canary bananas. These will be distributed in the ordinary course of trade to Kazan, Kharkow, Odessa, and other centres. See that P. (Protopopoff) grants easy facilities for rapid transport to the consignees in Moscow, as they are perishable.

”‘Number 229’ has full instructions to deal with Ivan Yakowleff, who is our ‘fixed post’ in Moscow, and who is receiving his instructions in secret by the messenger who brings you this. The fruit must not be handled or eaten, as it has been treated and is highly dangerous.

“Cholera should occur within three weeks of the arrival of the fruit. We rely upon P. taking steps to facilitate its rapid delivery. Some of it should be presented to charitable institutes for distribution among the poor.

“Inform A. (Anna Vyrubova) that Korniloff (General Korniloff, whom all know to be one of the most successful of Russian generals) suspects her concerning the Zarudni affair and has at his house some correspondence which is incriminating. It is in a cupboard in his bedroom and should be secured at once. (G. Zarudni was active in political law cases before the Revolution, and has since been appointed Minister of Justice in the Kerensky Cabinet.) Zarudni is working against both S. (Stürmer) and yourself. If an accident happened to him it would render the atmosphere more clear. The same applies to his friend N.V. Nekrasov, who is on the Duma Budget Committee and on the Railway Committee. Both may upset our plans.

“Against General Ostrogradski, Inspector-General of Cavalry, a charge of treason should be made. The bearer brings documents in order to arouse suspicion that he has sold military secrets to Austria. These can be produced at his trial. His continued activity against us, and his hatred of yourself are both dangerous.

”‘Number 229’ will make personal reports to you concerning the negotiations with Roumania and also regarding the efforts we are making to prevent war material from England reaching Russia.

”‘Number 70’ notes with gratification that the explosion at the nitro-glycerine works at Viborg has been effected, and that the factory was totally destroyed and most of the workmen killed. Please pay E. (an analytical chemist named Paul Eck, who was a friend of Rasputin’s) the sum promised.

“It would be best if their Majesties removed to Tsarskoe-Selo. Anna Vyrubova should cultivate Boris Savenkov, Commissioner to the Seventh Army. (This suggestion shows the remarkable foresight of Berlin, for to-day Boris Savenkov is acting Minister of War.) You yourself should lose no time in becoming acquainted with Countess Vera Kokoskin, who lives at Potemkinskaya, 29. She is eager to meet you. Admit her as a disciple, for being an attractive and ambitious woman, she has considerable knowledge of what is in progress in certain quarters in the Duma. Being in want of money, and being blackmailed by a penniless lover named Sievers, she would probably be ready to become our friend. ‘Number 70’ therefore throws out this suggestion, yet at the same time impresses upon you and your friends the necessity of the creation of the epidemic and the bringing in of Roumania on the side of the Allies.”

Those final words of that cipher despatch disclose a cunning that was indeed unequalled. I know full well that readers may be inclined to pause and to doubt that such dastardly methods could actually be pursued against civilisation. To such I can only point out that boxes of the same microbes were found in the German Legation in Bucharest, and were officially reported by the United States Legation in that city.

The fierce German octopus—so carefully fostered and so well prepared—had alas! stretched its thousand searching tentacles upon the patriotic Russian people who were ruled by their weak and careless Emperor, while the pro-German Empress listened to every rumour, and in her heart hoped for a separate peace with Germany as the only salvation of her land. Truly the Romanoffs have proved themselves a weak-kneed and irresponsible dynasty. Alexander, however, was never weak. In the long-ago days when I had audience with his late Majesty one morning in his small reception-room in the Winter Palace, he wore a rough drab shooting suit; bluff and full-bearded as any of his ministers, he talked to me fully of his regret that the Nihilists should be ever plotting to kill him, and assured me of his own personal efforts to free his people from a corrupt Church and an iron bureaucracy.

“Please tell your British people that as Tsar I am doing the utmost in my power to improve and civilise my dear Russian people, to whom I am devoted, and to whom I will if necessary give my life.”

Those words of the father of the Tsar Nicholas will be found reproduced in the columns of The Times after my joining as “Russian Correspondent.”

But let us examine the result of the secret order to Rasputin from Berlin which I have reproduced above.

In the first place I find among the papers, a letter dated from the Potemkinskaya, 29, as follows:

“Holy Father,—I thank you for your introduction yesterday to Her Majesty the Empress, and to the Grand Duchess Olga. Truly we are all your kindred spirits and disciples, who know at last the joys and pleasures of the life which Almighty God has given unto us. Anna was most charming, and I saw His Majesty as arranged. At your suggestion I mentioned the Gospodin Sievers, and the Emperor has promised to appoint him Vice-Governor of Omsk. All thanks to you, dear Holy Father. I shall be at our reunion at your house to-morrow, and my daughter Nada, who is in search of the Truth, will accompany me. Till then, I kiss your dear hand.—Vera Kokoskin.”

This letter speaks for itself. Another document is a letter to Rasputin dated from the Hôtel Metropole, Moscow, and is in plain language as follows:

“The consignment of fruit from your generous donors has duly reached the Maison Yakowleff and is being distributed in various charitable quarters and is much appreciated in these days when prices are so high. Some of it has been sent to the director of the Borgoroditsky Convent at Kazan, and also some to the Society of St. George at Kiev. Please inform and thank the donors.—Karl Jöhnke.”

Eagerly the camarilla awaited the result of their dastardly handiwork. The allotted three weeks passed, but no epidemic was reported. Evidently the monk wrote to the German bacteriologist, who was posing as a Dane, for the latter wrote from the Hôtel Continental at Kiev:

“The fruit, owing to delays in transit, was not in a condition for human consumption. This is extremely regrettable after all the trouble of our kind donors.”

Therefore, while certain isolated cases of cholera were reported from several cities—as the sanitary records prove—Russia had had indeed a providential escape from a terrible epidemic, the infected fruit being distributed over a wide area by charitable organisations quite unsuspicious of its source.

Failure to produce the desired result induced Rasputin and his paymasters in Berlin to adopt yet another method of forcing Russia into a separate peace.

Brusiloff had recommenced his gallant offensive, and the situation was being viewed with increased apprehension by the German General Staff. Roumania was still undecided whether or not to throw in her cause with that of the Allies. The great plot to destroy Roumania is again revealed by documentary evidence contained among Rasputin’s papers, and also in the despatches received in Bucharest—where, of course, the clever intrigue was never suspected.

A message in cipher received by Rasputin, on August 8th, the day of General Letchitzki’s great triumph, reveals a truly Machiavellian plan. It reads thus:

“Memorandum 27546.112.

“Matters in the Dobroudja are approaching a serious crisis. Urge S. (Boris Stürmer, the Prime Minister) to suggest at once to the Emperor, while at the same time you make a similar suggestion to Her Majesty, that Roumania must be forced to take up arms against us. She must not be allowed to remain neutral any longer. S. must send a despatch to Bucharest so worded that it is our ultimatum. If she does not join the Allies immediately she must fight against Russia.”

Accordingly, three days later, after the Holy Father and his unholy fellow-conspirator had had audiences at Tsarskoe-Selo, Stürmer sent an urgent despatch to the Roumanian Government demanding that it should join the Allies, without further delay. At Bucharest no plot was suspected, and indeed on the face of things, it seemed no unusual request. Even people in Great Britain were daily asking each other “When will Roumania come in it?”

The reason she had not joined was because she was not yet prepared. Germany knew that and with Rasputin’s aid had laid a plot to invade her. She was, while still unready, forced into the war by Stürmer. Nineteen days after the despatch of that cipher message from Berlin she formally declared hostilities against Austria-Hungary.

Berlin was delighted, and the sinister “dark force” of Russia rubbed his dirty hands with delight. The plot he saw must succeed. Truly it was a vile and devilish one, which not even the shrewdest diplomat suspected, namely, to deliver Roumania and her resources of grain and oil to the enemy. As an outcome of the conspiracy the Russo-Roumanian army, owing to treachery in the latter, at once retreated under pressure from Mackensen’s forces, and very quickly, almost before the Allies were aware of it, Roumania and the Constanza railway were in the enemy’s hands. Disaster, engineered by the camarilla, followed disaster after that “Now or never” ultimatum of Stürmer’s. The promises made to the brave Roumanians were broken one after the other. Why? Because with Rasputin, Protopopoff and certain Generals suborned by the mock-monk, the Prime Minister’s intention was to use the great retreat and the rapid absorption of Roumania as a means to force the Tsar and his Empire into a separate peace.

Indeed, Rasputin—in attendance daily at Tsarskoe-Selo—by declaring to the Empress and his sister-disciples at Court that he had been accorded a vision of the Tsar and Kaiser fraternising, and interpreting this as a divine direction that peace should at once be made with Germany, had very nearly induced His Majesty to sign a declaration of peace, when one man in the Empire discovered the dastardly manoeuvre, the Deputy Gospodin Miliukoff, whose actions I will describe in a further chapter.

Chapter Eight.

The Mock-Monk Unmasked.

Documentary evidence contained in the papers which the monk so carefully preserved shows conclusively that he paid a secret visit to Berlin in the first week of October, 1916. While the brave Russian army were fighting valiantly, ever and anon being betrayed by their leaders, treachery of the worst and vilest sort was afoot in the highest quarters.

That German potentate, the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, who occupied an important position in the entourage of the Tsar, was acting as counsellor to the Tsaritza, and at the same time, aided actively by the woman Vyrubova, was working to delude the Emperor and defeat his gallant armies. At Russian Field Headquarters the Tsar was cheered everywhere, and his officers were enthusiastic. It was known that the German offensive had spent itself, and it was believed by those who were being bamboozled that, when all was ready, Russia would press on to her well-deserved victory.

But the day of Russia’s great offensive never arrived. Great Britain and France were supplying her with guns and munitions conveyed up to Alexandrovsk with much difficulty, and the Allies were daily hoping that the “Russian steam-roller” would once again start upon its westward course. London, Paris and Rome were in ignorance of the amazing plot of the pro-German traitors.

Meanwhile the mock-monk, in the garb of a Dutch pastor, had arrived in Berlin to make arrangements with the enemy for Russia’s final conquest.

By the scoundrel’s fatal weakness for preserving letters addressed to him, in the hope that when he fell out of favour at Court he might use them for blackmailing purposes—for after all this “holy” man had started life as a common thief—we have again evidence of his treachery in the following letter dated from Tsarskoe-Selo, October 18th, the day following the Allied landing in Athens. Addressed to Rasputin, it is in German, in the fine handwriting of the Tsaritza, and reads as follows:

“Holy Father,—At last we have welcome news of you! This morning your messenger reached us bringing me a letter, and one for Anna. What you tell us is indeed good news. We are glad that you have seen William (the Emperor), and that he has been so gracious to you. Your news regarding the forthcoming offensive against the British is most encouraging. The British are Germany’s real enemies. Tell His Majesty that all goes well, and that Stürmer quite agrees that we must have a separate peace and is taking every step towards that end.

“Nikki is still at the front encouraging the troops. How foolish, and yet we have all to show a bold front. The news of the landing at Athens has disconcerted us, though it has caused great joy in Petrograd. Inquire if nothing can be done further in an attempt to spread disease in the more populous regions. This would kill enthusiasm for the war and force peace quickly.

“Dmitri (the Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovitch, who was Rasputin’s fiercest enemy) has been sent by Nikki to Samara. It would be a relief to us all if he never returned. He with Nicholas (the Grand Duke Nicholas Michailovitch) are plotting to defeat us. But Germany shall win. It shall be as you, my dear Father, saw in your vision.

“Pray for us, O Father. Give us your benediction, for while you are absent we are all dull and lonely. Tell William to send you back quickly and safely to us. Give my best greetings to the brave Hindenburg. It is horrid to be compelled to sustain an anti-German attitude when one knows that our Fatherland is unconquerable, even though the Russian flag be bathed in blood.

“Inform the General Staff that the secret agent Erbach-Fürstenau, who fell into General Neudorff’s hands last month has at my instigation been acquitted by the court-martial and will very shortly escape back to Germany. I have personally arranged that the papers seized upon him shall be destroyed.

“Charges are being levelled against General Sukhomlinoff. He has been betrayed by a man named Kartzoff. In order to suppress the latter’s further activity, he has been arrested for treason at my instigation and sent without trial to an unknown destination. So we have one enemy the less. It is reported that Manasevitch-Manuiloff (private secretary to Prime Minister Stürmer) has been arrested for attempting to blackmail his chief. But I will see that Nikki stops the trial.

“My dear boy Alexis is improving. Anna is with him constantly. He sends his greetings and asks for your prayers. I kiss your holy hand. Your sister Alec.”