The Consul explained that the Bolsheviks would not allow him to draw on the Consulate’s deposits in the banks, but, in view of my circumstances, he could supply me with some money for expenses. As to my visit to London, he said there were almost insuperable difficulties in the way, even for his own countrymen, let alone Russians.
But I would not alter my mind, and persisted in begging him to send me to his country. He promised to consider the matter and give a definite answer that night. He then invited me to dine with him at eight o’clock that evening.
When I returned for dinner the Consul informed me that he had already telegraphed to the British Consul at Vladivostok of my going to London by way of America, requesting him to aid me in every way he could. At dinner I told the Consul how Mrs. Pankhurst had come to know me, but kept to myself the real purpose of my journey, as I feared that the Consul would not want to antagonize the Bolsheviks by extending his protection to me. He gave me five hundred roubles (about £52 15s. 6d.), and I decided to leave immediately. A Siberian express was leaving at 12:40 the same night. I had a few hours left to get my girls to the station and to bid farewell to the Vasilievs.
My immediate destination was Tutalsk, on the Great Siberian Line. I was uneasy about the treatment our party might receive from the soldiers, who occupied three-quarters of the space on the train. But here again the mental transformation was obvious. The passengers discussed affairs sensibly. There were many officers on the train, but they were not molested. The soldiers were friendly to them and to us. The all-absorbing topic was the advance of the Germans. Lenin and Trotsky were cursed and denounced as despots worse even than the Tsar. There were many refugees from the newly-invaded provinces, and their tales further increased the mutinous spirit of the men.
“We were promised bread and land. Now the Germans are taking both away.”
“We wanted an end to the war, but Lenin has got us into a worse position than before.”
“We went to the Bolshevist offices and told them of our hunger, and they advised us to enlist in the Red Guard.”
“It is impossible to find work, all the factories are shut down or disorganized.”
These and similar sentiments were expressed on every side. Underlying them all was a greater hatred for the Germans than ever. There was no doubt in my mind that those men were ready to follow any trusted leader, with arms and food, against the Germans.
At Chelyabinsk the train stopped for a couple of hours. There were two regiments stationed there, and there were several hundred soldiers on the express. A meeting was quickly organized quite near the station, within a short distance of the place where I had been thrown off the train some three months ago. But how different was the mood of the masses now! There were thousands at the meetings. A refugee addressed the crowd. He made a stirring, sarcastic speech.
“Every one of us,” he began, “has something at stake in Russia. We all want to defend our country. We have all made our sacrifices. For three years I fought in this war. Then I was set free to return home. But I found my home in the hands of the Germans. I could not return. I lost my parents, my wife, my sisters! What do I now get for all my sacrifices?
“Liberty! I came to Petrograd. For three days I went hungry. I was not alone. There were many other soldiers who suffered the same fate. They gave us no bread. What have we gained?
“Liberty!
“I went to see the chief of the Government in Petrograd. But I was not admitted to him. I was nearly beaten to death and thrown out of the building. Why?
“Liberty!
“The Germans are taking everything they can lay hands on, and at the same time the Red Guard is being strengthened in order to fight—whom, the Germans?—no, the so-called bourgeoisie! But are they not our own brethren, our own blood? In whose name are we urged to slaughter our own people while the Germans ravish our land?
“In the name of Liberty!
“Our country has been disgraced and ruined and still we are being called upon to destroy our own educated and intelligent classes.
“Is this liberty?
“I hear that in Moscow a thousand invalids were thrown out into the street. These invalids are soldiers like yourselves and myself, only maimed and crippled for life. Why were they thrown out?
“For the sake of liberty!”
We were all deeply impressed by this speech. Not a single voice was raised in protest. Every heart felt that the liberty we had received was not the kind of liberty we had dreamed of. We wanted peace, happiness, brotherhood, not civil war, foreign invasions, strife, starvation and disease.
Another speaker arose and said:
“He is right. We have been deceived and disgraced. We go hungry and no one cares. But how can we get out of this shameful situation? We should have to overthrow the present leaders, and reestablish the front. The Japanese are already moving into Siberia, and the Germans are occupying Russia, all because we are divided. We shall be under some foreign yoke if we don’t join our forces. We quarrelled with our officers, but how can we ever hope to do anything without officers? We might make peace with them, but where can we get arms to overthrow our present leaders, who have surrounded themselves with bands of Red Guards?”
For a moment the vast gathering remained silent. It was a pathetic calm. There was a painful sense that our much-cherished freedom
