When I left the Palace on November 6 I was under the impression that the New Bolshevik rising had completely miscarried. But the next morning the situation changed almost miraculously.
It appeared that all the reports which the generals had given to Kerensky were misleading. hardly a single unit in the Petrograd garrison executed the orders given them on Kerensky's instructions.
The troops guarding the arsenal joined hands with the Bolsheviks, who got possession of all the artillery and ammunition and enormous stocks of rifles. Every regiment or company of soldiers in the city had passed a resolution supporting the Bolsheviks, who accused Kerensky's Government of wishing "surrender Petrograd to the Germans so as to enable them to exterminate the revolutionary garrison."
The Bolsheviks spread the rumours that the government was preparing to move to Moscow. Although a very small minority in each regiment took part in these meetings the effect was to paralyse the Government, because the vast majority of soldiers remained passive. They said they would not interfere in the struggle for fear that "brotherly blood" might be shed.
In this way the telegraph and telephone passed into the hands of the Bolsheviks almost without fighting during the night of November 6, and there were no armed forces upon which the Government could rely for its defence. Personally I am under the strong impression that there was a strong element of disloyalty among the military command in Petrograd.
When I arrived at the Palace on the morning of November 7 I found that its food supplies had been stopped, so that the guards had left, being unable to get food. Kerensky had set out on a dangerous mission to bring loyal troops from outside the city.
The new commandants began to organise the defence of the Palace, and for that purpose I, too, went to the wing of the Palace in which the offices of the Palace administration were situated to obtain a plan of the immense building in order to place guards at all possible entrances.
But to my great amazement I found the vast offices absolutely deserted by the administration, and the doorkeeper informed me that none of the officials had even put in an appearance that day.
Some of the old servants of the Palace, who had formerly served the Tsar and were well acquainted with the vast building, volunteered to serve as guides. "You will find no traitors among us," they said to me, and they proved loyal to the end. Fresh units of cadets were called into the Palace. Food was ordered by telephone, but on the way to the Palace it was commandeered by the Bolsheviks.
I was sitting in my study. The next room to mine was that of Konovaloff. The Ministers gathered from time to time in his room or mine, and through the window watched the crowds on the bridges. The situation grew more and more critical. Five thousand sailors arrived from Kronstadt, and the cruiser Aurora entered the Neva and lay with guns directed upon the Winter Palace.
The Fortress of SS. Peter and Paul was now in the hands of the Bolsheviks, and its guns were also turned upon the Palace. The Government offices on the other side of the square were gradually surrendering to the Bolsheviks, whose troops were little by little surrounding the Palace itself. The palace guards had erected a huge barricade along the principal gates and facades leading to the square from accumulated reserves of timber, and the two opposing forces were awaiting the final onslaught.
Within the Palace the ministers were almost all by now assembled. All our telephone lines were already disconnected except one, through which we occasionally received some disturbing tidings. It began to grow dark. During the day I had several times been obliged to warn the members of the Government from crowding to the windows, as by so doing they were likely to attract unwelcome shots. And now we carefully drew the curtains to hide the few electric lights we were obliged to make use of.
At seven o'clock the Cabinet held its last meeting, which was of a memorable character. It was held in the famous Malachite Hall, where the sittings were usually held. This meeting was held in darkness except for the rays which shone through the open door from a lighted vestibule which had no windows.
The Minister of Labour, a Socialist, raised the question whether some of them should not leave the Palace to mix with the populace and try to influence them. Some other Socialists supported him. But after a close debate it was decided that the Ministry should stand and fall together. The welcome news that some food had been scraped together was brought, and at about eight o'clock the Ministers went upstairs to Kerensky's apartments to partake of a scanty meal. By arrangement I was to leave the Palace at eight o'clock. When that time came all the ordinary exits were either besieged or barricaded.
My faithful attendant, who was well acquainted with every corner of the Palace, managed to get me through into the central courtyard, which was filled with loyalist guards, and thence I was conducted to the huge iron gate, strongly guarded by loyal sentinels. In front of the gate was a high wooden barricade. Astout female nurse was just being hoisted over this barricade to proceed to her duties in the military hospital situated in one part of the Palace.
I stood for a moment gazing into the darkness. A hand touched me, and somebody said: "Don't stand here. You may be hit by a bullet." I thanked the sentinel and went along by the barricade in the direction of Millionnaya Street, the only passage still kept by the loyalists. They were barring the street, but they allowed me to pass through.
When I had proceeded a short distance I heard the order given behind me "Take aim!" I heard the click of the rifles, and two big soldiers who were proceeding some steps in front of me gathered up the skirts of their coats and took to their heels. I looked back and saw the line of loyalist soldiers aiming straight before them in my direction.
I realised that the two soldiers in flight were bolsheviks. Luckily for me they had disappeared in the darkness, and the soldiers did not shoot. I went on and when I reached the next corner I found it guarded by the Bolshevik Red Guard. These were ordinary young workmen, wearing belts and rifles slung across their shoulders.
They did not stop me, and I went on in the direction of the Hotel d'Europe, where I was staying. Everywhere at the street corners were stationed Bolshevik soldiers or sailors or detachments of the Red Guard. I reached the hotel unmolested.
Later in the evening, when I was ready to return, I learned that the General Staff had already surrendered to the sailors before I left the Palace, and that the Palace itself had been completely surrounded, so that it was impossible for me to enter it.
I learned that a friend of mine who had gone with Mme. Kerensky in a cab to the Palace had been arrested, with her, by the Bolsheviks and taken to the Smolny Institute. During the night the booming of guns began.
I knew they were the guns of the Aurora bombarding the Palace. An ultimatum was sent to the Ministers to surrender. They refused. Bolsheviks began to penetrate into the Palace through some unknown entrance, and from the upper floor, where the apartments of Kerensky and of Babushka (Mme. Breshkovsky, the grandmother of the Russian Revolution) were situated, they began to throw hand grenades into the hall below.
These Bolsheviks were arrested by the loyalists. The Aurora discharged a number of shots at the Palace. A violent fusillade of machine-guns and light artillery was also directed against it. A battle ensued, during which there were some hundred casualties on either side. Gradually the Bolsheviks forced an entry and invaded the Palace. On their way they pillaged every room they entered. The Ministers retired from one room to another, until at last they were arrested and conveyed to the fortress.
The Palace was pillaged and devastated from top to bottom by the Bolshevik armed mob, as though by a horde of barbarians. All the State papers were destroyed. Priceless pictures were ripped from their frames by bayonets. Several hundred carefully packed boxes of rare plate and china, which Kerensky had exerted himself to preserve, were broken open and the contents smashed or carried off.
The library of Alexander III, the doors of which we had locked and sealed, and which we never entered, was forced open and ransacked, books and manuscripts burnt and destroyed. My study, formerly the Tsaritsa's salon, like all other rooms, was thrown into chaos. The colossal crystal lustre, with its artfully concealed music, was smashed to atoms.
Desks, pictures, ornaments - everything was destroyed. I will refrain from describing the hideous scenes which took place in the wine-cellars, and the fate to which some of the captured women soldiers were submitted.