FALL OF TSARISM

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVIII, Issue 83, 20 March 1928, Page 8

FALL OF TSARISM

EMPRESS’S TRAGIC FATE

PASSION THAT MADE BOLSHEVISM

The pile of wreckage we call Russia was created by three people, the Empress Alexandra, Rasputin, her evil genius, and Lenin. And the greatest factor in the evolution of the Bolshevist State was the wonderful love of the Empress for her husband. This is the revelation of M. Poliakoff in “The Tragit Bride,” perhaps the greatest Royal love story ever told.

Had Nichalos 11. married any Princess other than the daughter of the Grand Duke of Hesse, had he been a roue tolerated by the woman compelled by fate to share his throne, Soviet Russia might never have existed. Tsarism was killed by love, the grand passion of the otherwise very ordinary ruler of Russia. Such was the infatuation of Nicholas for his Hessian bride that his love increased instead of diminishing with the years. BARRING THE WAY. In the hours of Russia’s crisis which began ten years before the war, it was the Empress who barred the way to all the reforms. Hers was thevoice that stilled all thought of soncessions through which the Romanoff might still have held the affection of his people.

Alexandra was reactionary and threw all her influence into the scale against change in the direction of national freedom. But even here ner policy was dictated by solicitude for her husband and her son, and not to innate lov© of tyranny. Her one desire was to safeguard the throne of the husband, who down to the last tragic hours was her faithful lover ami slave. Poliakoff, enemy of the Romanoffs, does one great service to humaauity r He slays for ever the poisonous insinuations concerning one of the purest-minded of women and the rascally monk Rasputin. He shows clearly that while tbe spell cast over the Empress by Rasputin was wholly evil, there was nothing immoral in their relations. Here, too, great love was the guiding motive. The Empress, always a dabbler in mysticism, believed tbe strange mixture of prescience and licentiousness was an ambassador from Go'd s and as such could safeguard her husband’s throne and the Royal houpe, AMBASSADOR OF THE DEVIE. Rasputin was an Ambassador of the Devil. That va s the mistake of “the tragic bride.”

in M. Poliakoff’s st,cry > one follows the cuurt>i’ u >.\Htly-mauc histoiy brightened by the love letters of an oft-harassed Tsar to his beloved ” Wifey.” Even in .1914 when Europe was cutting the cards for the greatest of all gambles, Nicholas pours out his anxieties to ”My very own beloved ono, ” and the outwardly cold and beautiful Tsaritsa, whose pet nickname was ”Sunny” wrote back giving counsel and advice—alas! «ot often of the wisest —to “Ever Nicky, my own, Your very own deep-ly-loving old wifey, Alix.”

When the Fires of Fate were burning from end to end of Europ-e, and Nicholas 11. was confronted with dif Acuities and dangers arising out of the great conflict, he did his utmost to prevent, his letters from the Front to “Sunny” and the replies of ins Empress breathe the same spirit o£ abiding love. When things were going badly at the front, tbe Empress writes telling her hsusband that she does not like his new War Minister. Yet she ends her complaining note: “I cover yon with tender kisses. Ever yours, your old wifey.” Here is another extract from a letter to the Tsar after he had returned to the front.

“Sleep well, my Sunshine, Russia’s Saviour. Remember last night how tenderly we clung togetner. I shall yearn for your caresses. . . I kiss you without end and bless you. Holy Angels guard your slumber. 1 ain near and with you for ever and none shall separate ujs. Your very own w.'le, Sunny.”

This was the woman the vulgarminded would have us believe was the vntval mistress of Rasputin. BRAINLESS BUREAUCRATS. The cheering crowds at the Winter Palace had melted away, the ghosts of armies annihilated by the criminal blundering of the brainless bureaueiats by whom Nicholas was sur-rc-iindcd, wore stalking the land, leaving everywhere- evidence of the great shadow that had passed. Hungry mobs were parading thb streets of Petrograd, Liberal leaders of tho Duma were at the font imploring the Tsar to listen to the voice of reason before it is too late. Yet the Empress remained obdurate. Her letters to her husband breathed hatred and defiance of de mocracy and their effect on his weaker mind was enormous. When the hapless Tsar had been set aside by the leaders of the Duma, his Empress counsels a policy of procrastination. fehe writes:— “Clearly they do not want to let you see me unless you sign a constitution or some horror like that. . If you are forced to make concessions you are in no case obliged to carry them out because they have been ob famed from you in a shameful fashion. We are all in good spirits, not broken by circumstances only we are aitxious for you and feel unspeakably hurt for your sake, my holy martyr. God Almighty may He assist you. . My heart aches very much. . .

I am now going to speak to the soldi’

AN IMPRESSIVE ACTION. This last sentence, as M. Poliakolt prints out, is a wonderful tribute to the courage of the Empress. It is her only reference to the occasion on wl icl. she took one of her daughters by the hand and went out to confront the angry mobs at the Palace gates. Her action so impressed the threatening legions that the ydispersed. A few days later Nicholas was in tioduced to his retinue as Colonel Romanoff. The throne was dust. The cx-lsai was the prisoner of the Lib-eral-minded Karensky. But the ex tremist revoluntary tail was wagging the dog. The hour of Bolshevism was at hand, Karensky faded out of the picture. The Romanoffs were in tha grip cf the chiefs of the Soviet Government. Then comes the Calvary in the cel lars at Ekaterinburg, the butchery of the Royal family by the Soviet Comnvssar and his too eager minions and or.ee again note the triumph of great love over futile human hate.

The ashes of “Sunny” and “Nicky ” the ailing little lad who was their light and joy, and four beautiful daughters lie in a mine shaft in the forest, whither they were hurled by their murderers. The Bolsheviks little recked they had fulfilled the greatest desire of “the tragic bride.” On the day when kings, kueens and people gathered to' see her married, she wrote m the diary of her husband: — “No more separations. At last bound for life and when this life is ended to remain together for all eternity. 1 ’

The wind soughs in the pine trees that wave over the forest tomb of the Romanoffs—a fitting Requiem for the Emperor and Empress who loved too well.