Another week passed before I recovered my speech and my normal condition, although the effects of the shock did not disappear completely for some weeks. A woman friend of mine told me that Kornilov was expected to arrive in Petrograd the next day, and that his relations with Kerensky were strained, on account of their different views as to the restoration of discipline at the front. I telephoned to the Winter Palace for an appointment, and the War Minister’s adjutant reported my request to Kerensky, who said that he could receive me immediately, even sending his car for me.
Kerensky welcomed me heartily, expressing his gladness at my recovery. He asked me what was the reason why the soldiers would not fight. In reply I told him in detail the story of my fruitless offensive, how the men had called meetings and debated for hours and days whether to advance or not. I told only the facts, as narrated above, and Kerensky was deeply impressed. In conclusion I said:
“You can see for yourself that the committees stand for talk, endless talk. An army that talks is not a fighting army. In order to save the front it is necessary to abolish the committees and introduce strict discipline. General Kornilov seems to be the man to accomplish this. I believe he can do it. All is not yet lost. With an iron hand the Russian Army can be restored. Kornilov has such a hand. Why not give him the right to use it?”
Kerensky agreed with me generally. “But,” he said, “Kornilov wants to restore the old regime. He may take the power into his own hands and put back the Tsar on the throne.”
This I could not believe, and I said so to Kerensky. He replied that he had grounds for believing that Kornilov wanted the monarchy reestablished.
“If you are not convinced,” Kerensky continued, “go over to General Headquarters, have a talk with Kornilov, find out all you can about his intentions, and come back to report to me.”
I realized immediately that Kerensky was asking me to act for him in the role of a secret agent, but I was interested. The thought occurred to me again and again:
“What if Kerensky is right, and Kornilov really wants the Tsar back?”
My country was in a bad state, but I dreaded to think of a return of Tsarism. If Kornilov was for the old regime, then he was an enemy of the people, and Kerensky was right in hesitating to invest the General with supreme authority. I therefore accepted his proposal.
I was, however, uneasy at the thought of the errand I had undertaken and resolved to go to Rodzianko, whom I look upon as my best friend, and make a clean breast of it. When I told him of my conversation with Kerensky he said:
“This is Kerensky’s old game—suspecting everybody of being for the old regime. I don’t believe it of Kornilov. He is an honest, straightforward man. Still, if you feel in doubt about it yourself, come, let us go over together to Headquarters. Do not go as a spy, but tell Kornilov the truth to his face.”
We took a train for General Headquarters and were admitted to Kornilov soon after our arrival. I told him frankly what had passed between Kerensky and myself a couple of days before. Kornilov reddened. He jumped up and began to pace the room in a rage.
“The scoundrel! The upstart! I swear by the honour of an old soldier that I do not want Tsarism restored. I love the Russian muzhik as much as any man in the country. We have fought together and understand one another. If I were only given authority, I would soon restore discipline by punishing, if necessary, a few regiments. I could organize an offensive in a few weeks, beat the Germans and have peace this year even now. He is driving the country to perdition, the rascal!”
Kornilov’s words were like sword-thrusts. There was no question but that the man spoke from the depth of his soul. His agitation was real beyond a doubt. He continued to walk the room fiercely, talking of the certain collapse of the front if measures were not taken without delay.
“The idiot! He cannot see that his days are numbered. Bolshevism is spreading rapidly in the army, and it will not be long before the tide swamps him. Today he allows Lenin to carry on his propaganda in the army without hindrance. Tomorrow Lenin will have got the upper hand, and everything will be wrecked.”
We left Kornilov, and I had to decide whether to make a report to Kerensky or not. I must confess to a feeling of shame when I thought of how I had carried out the errand. I therefore asked Rodzianko to tell Kerensky of Kornilov’s attitude toward Tsarism and I boarded a train for Moscow, where I had been invited to review the local Women’s Battalion, organized in imitation of mine. There were many such battalions formed all over Russia.
When I arrived at the barracks and was taken before the fifteen hundred girls who had enlisted in the Moscow unit, I nearly fainted at the sight of them. They were nearly all rouged, they were wearing slippers and fancy stockings, they were wantonly dressed and very casual in their bearing. There were a good many soldiers about, and their behaviour with the girls was revolting.
“What is this, a house of shame?” I cried out in my grief. “You are a disgrace to the army! I would have you disbanded at once, and I shall do my best to see that you are not sent to the front!”
A storm of protest broke loose.
“What is all this, the old regime or what?” shouted some indignant voices.
“What’s that? Discipline? How dare she talk in that fashion?”
