Nicholas and Alexandra

this telegram to the Tsar, he expressed his approval of it and of the measure I had taken in Kiev.”

Nicholas also quickly confirmed Kokovtsov’s official position, naming him as Stolypin’s successor. One month later, the new Prime Minister visited the Tsar at Livadia to discuss future policy. “I … was accorded a most hearty welcome. The members of the court … vied with each other in their graciousness to me,” Kokovtsov wrote. “…  The next day, after lunch, the Empress who found it painful to stand for any length of time, sat down in an armchair and called me to her side.… A part of this conversation impressed itself upon my memory because it … showed me the peculiar, mystic nature of this woman who was called to play such an extraordinary part in the history of Russia.…

“The Empress said … ‘I notice that you keep on making comparisons between yourself and Stolypin. You seem to do too much honor to his memory and ascribe too much importance to his activities and his personality. Believe me, one must not feel sorry for those who are no more. I am sure that everybody does only one’s duty and fulfills one’s destiny, and when one dies that means that his role is ended and that he was bound to go since his destiny was fulfilled. Life continually assumes new forms, and you must not try to follow blindly the work of your predecessor. Remain yourself; do not look for support in political parties; they are of so little consequence in Russia. Find support in the confidence of the Tsar—the Lord will help you. I am sure that Stolypin died to make room for you, and this is all for the good of Russia.’ ”

In 1911, when Stolypin ordered an investigation of Rasputin’s activities, the outcry against the starets was still a matter for private conversation. By 1912, when Kokovtsov inherited Stolypin’s office, the scandal had burst into the public arena. In the Duma, broad hints at “dark forces” near the throne began to creep into the speeches of Leftist deputies. Soon the “Rasputin question” dominated the political scene.

“Strange as it may seem,” wrote Kokovtsov, “the question of Rasputin became the central question of the immediate future; nor did it disappear during my entire term of office as Chairman of the Ministers’ Council.” Censorship had been abolished by the Manifesto, and the press began to speak openly of Rasputin as a sinister adventurer who controlled appointments in the Church and had the ear of the Empress. Newspapers began to print accusations and confessions from Rasputin’s victims and the cries of anguished mothers. Alexander Guchkov, leader of the Octobrists, obtained copies of Iliodor’s letters allegedly written by the Empress to Rasputin; he had them copied and circulated through the city. “Although they were absolutely impeccable, they gave rise to the most revolting comments,” said Kokovtsov. “…  We [Kokovtsov and Makarov, the Minister of Interior] both believed that the letters were apocryphal and were being circulated for the purpose of undermining the prestige of the sovereign but we could do nothing.… The public, of course, greedy for any sensation, was according them a very warm reception.”

As the attack on Rasputin intensified, the Moscow newspaper Golos Moskvy denounced “that cunning conspirator against our Holy Church, that fornicator of human souls and bodies—Gregory Rasputin” as well as “the unheard-of tolerance exhibited toward the said Gregory Rasputin by the highest dignitaries of the Church.” Nicholas issued an order banning any mention of Rasputin in the press on pain of fine. But Rasputin made much too good copy for editors to worry about fines; they published and cheerfully paid. The unprintable stories, passed from mouth to mouth, were infinitely worse. The Empress and Anna Vyrubova, it was said, shared the peasant’s bed. He ordered the Tsar to pull off his boots and wash his feet and then pushed Nicholas out of the room while he lay with Alexandra. He had raped all the young Grand Duchesses and turned the nurseries into a harem, where the girls, mad with love, fought for his attentions. “Grishka,” the diminutive of Gregory, appeared in obscene drawings chalked on walls and buildings; he was the subject of a hundred smutty rhymes.

Nicholas was bitterly offended at the dragging of his wife’s name and honor through the mud. “I am simply stifling in this atmosphere of gossip and malice,” he told Kokovtsov. “This disgusting affair must be ended.” Neither Nicholas nor Alexandra understood the meaning of freedom of the press; they did not understand why the ministers could not prevent the appearance in print of what they both knew was inaccurate and libelous. On the other hand, for the ministers, the Duma and even the Dowager Empress, the solution lay not in repressing the newspapers, but in ridding the throne of Rasputin. Once again, Marie invited Kokovtsov to call on her, and for an hour and a half they discussed Rasputin. “She wept bitterly and promised to speak to the Tsar,” Kokovtsov wrote. “But she had little hope of success.” “My poor daughter-in-law does not perceive that she is ruining both the dynasty and herself,” said Marie. “She sincerely believes in the holiness of an adventurer and we are powerless to ward off the misfortune which is sure to come.”

Inevitably, the demand rose for an open debate in the Duma on the role of Rasputin. The Duma President, Michael Rodzianko, a massive figure weighing 280 pounds, was a former cavalry officer of aristocratic family whose political views were not much different from those of a Tory country squire in England. To him, the idea of a public debate in the Duma on Rasputin’s relations with the Imperial family seemed highly offensive. Seeking advice, he too visited Empress Marie and heard the same depressing views that Marie had addressed to Kokovtsov. “The Emperor … is so pure of heart,” she concluded, “that he does not believe in evil.”

Nevertheless, Rodzianko persisted and he was granted an audience with the Tsar. So important did he consider his mission that before going to the palace, he went to pray in the cathedral before the holy icon of Our Lady of Kazan. At the palace, Rodzianko bravely told the Tsar that he meant to “speak of the starets, Rasputin, and the inadmissible fact of his presence at Your Majesty’s Court.” Then, before going any further, he said, “I beseech you, Sire, as Your Majesty’s loyal subject, will it be your pleasure to hear me to the end? If not, say but one word and I will remain silent.” Nicholas looked away, bowed his head and murmured, “Speak.” Rodzianko spoke at length, reminding Nicholas of those such as Theophan and Iliodor who had condemned Rasputin and suffered for it. He mentioned the major charges against Rasputin. “Have you read Stolypin’s report?” asked Nicholas. “No,” said Rodzianko, “I’ve heard it spoken of, but never read it.” “I rejected it,” said the Tsar. “It is a pity,” said the Duma President, “for all this would not have happened.”

Moved by Rodzianko’s honest fervor, Nicholas gave way and authorized a new investigation of Rasputin’s character and activities to be conducted by Rodzianko himself. Rodzianko immediately demanded and received the evidence which had been collected by the Holy Synod and passed along to Stolypin to form the basis of his earlier report. The following day, an official of the Holy Synod appeared and ordered Rodzianko to hand the papers back. “He explained,” Rodzianko wrote, “that the demand came from a very exalted person. ‘Who is it, Sabler [Minister of Religion]?’ ‘No, someone much more highly placed.’ … ‘Who is it?’ I repeated. ‘The Empress, Alexandra Fedorovna.’ ‘If that is the case,’ I said, ‘will you kindly inform Her Majesty that she is as much a subject of her august consort as I myself, and that it is the duty of us both to obey his commands. I am, therefore, not in a position to comply with her wishes.’ ”

Rodzianko kept the papers and wrote his report, but when he asked for another audience to present it, the request was denied. He sent it to the Tsar, nevertheless, and Sazonov, the Foreign Minister, was present when Nicholas read it at Livadia. Afterward, Sazonov spoke to Grand Duke Ernest of Hesse, the Empress’s brother, who also was present. Sadly, the Grand Duke shook his head and commented, “The Emperor is a saint and an angel, but he does not know how to deal with her.”

   Two years after his appointment as Prime Minister, Kokovtsov toppled from power. Once again, it was Rasputin who poisoned this political career. Upon appointing Kokovtsov Minister of Finance, Nicholas had told him, “Remember, Vladimir Nicolaievich, that the doors of this study are always open to you at any time you need to come.” When Kokovtsov sent the Tsar his proposed budget speech to the Duma in 1907, Nicholas returned it with a personal note reading, “God grant that the new Duma may study calmly this splendid explanation and appreciate the improvement we have made in so short a time after all the trials sent to us.” The Empress also was initially well disposed toward Kokovtsov. During their first interview after he became Finance Minister, she said, “I wished to see you to tell you that both the Tsar and I beg you always to be quite frank with us and to tell us the truth, not hesitating lest it be unpleasant for us. Believe me, even if it be so at first, we shall be grateful to you for it later.”

But Alexandra’s warmth and her desire to hear the truth faded quickly once the newspapers began their attack on Rasputin. Kokovtsov himself understood clearly what had happened and even sympathized with Alexandra:

“At first, I enjoyed Her Majesty’s favor,” he wrote. “In fact, I was appointed Chairman of the Ministers’ Council with her knowledge and consent. Hence, when the Duma and press began a violent campaign against